No, this isn’t about Bridget Bardot or Eve, the original vamp. Eve, after all, was only the middleman, er middlewoman. The real draw for Adam was the apple. This is the time of the year when our thoughts and our recipes turn to the juicy, tempting fruit.
Even the variety names sound like a party in my mouth: Gala, Jazz, Golden Delicious, or my personal favorite, Pink Lady. How could I not love an apple with such a refined name? Even my granddaughter loved them. When asked if she wanted seconds, the four-year-old said, “Oh, yes, please. I’m a fool for apples.” I couldn’t have said it better myself! As a kid, I especially liked green apples sprinkled liberally with salt. That made me no stranger to the “green apple two-step,” but it was worth every bathroom trip. My favorite fall treat, however, was an apple smothered in caramel and impaled on a stick, like a little vampire put out of its misery. The contrast of the rich, buttery caramel and the juicy apple couldn’t be beat.
When I lived in Virginia, we sometimes went apple-picking in a nearby orchard. The attached photo shows one of our outings, a perfect fall day and a productive one, too. That year I picked an entire bushel, and froze lots of apple pies to enjoy throughout the winter.
Besides tickling our taste buds, apples play an important role in our culture. Think of all the expressions we use: “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” I have it on good authority that no doctor ever said that. It was the product of a creative advertising mind. How about “She’s the apple of her father’s eye”? We all know what that means, but how could an apple be in anyone’s eye? Then there’s William Tell. I wonder what kind of father would put an apple on his son’s head and aim an arrow at it. It’s a good thing Child Protective Services wasn’t around. Don’t even get me started on Johnny Appleseed and Snow White eating the poisoned apple.
The only time I’ve ever hated apples was when I was trick-or-treating. There was always some well-meaning grown-up who gave me an apple instead of candy. Only worse were the folks who dropped the apple into my paper bag, tearing the bottom.
At this point in my life, trick-or-treating isn’t an option. I’m just concentrating on keeping my face from looking like one of those apple dolls! Old School, indeed.
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