An Apple a Day

One day, I'd like to live in the country and have a vegetable garden bigger than the two modest 4' x 4' raised beds and long, thin asparagus bed that I now tend in our little suburban yard. This future garden will be big enough to grow all the things that won't fit now, the space hogs, the sprawling vines and all those things I'd like to try because I've never tried to grow them before. Somewhere by the garden an orchard will fan out over a hill, lines of fruit trees that turn to a blizzard of white and pink in the spring. I will have apples.

Apples are fruits that speak of autumn, heaping baskets of greens, golds, and reds capture the colors of the trees as they turn and hold them for us to contemplate through the winter. Apple cider is a distillation of the crisp and snap of chilly days. Also a comfort from the cold, heated and spiced cider warms you on a bitter night like nothing else, except perhaps for a roaring fire, a soft, thick blanket and a couple cats.

In the fall and winter I usually eat an apple a day. This year I'm spending time getting to know apples and other fruits and vegetables that I know of but never come across in the supermarket. Apples are in high season at the farmers market. Early in the season, I tried a couple Ginger Gold apples, a pale yellow skin blanketed a spicy and delicately sweet fruit. They only appeared for a week or two and as soon as I tried them, they were gone.

Winesap, Honeycrisp, Pink Lady and Stayman apples are some I've recently sampled. This week I plan on trying some Mutsu apples, their bright green skins reminding me of tart Granny Smiths. Granny Smith apples are my favorites to use when baking and my favorite treat to make I stumbled on years ago in The German Cookbook: A Complete Guide to Mastering Authentic German Cooking by Mimi Sheraton. Using Pumpernickel bread crumbs adds a heavenly richness to the tang of the apples.

Apple and Black Bread Pudding

For making crumbs out of a moist and chewy bread, toast and cool 6 to 8 slices of pumpernickel then run through a food processor using the chopping blade until you get fine crumbs.

1/2 cup raisins
4 T dark rum
1 1/2 cups pumpernickel bread crumbs
3/4 cup sugar
1 tsp cinnamon
6 T butter (4 T melted butter & 2 T butter to dot top)
4 or 5 tart cooking apples
1/2 cup chopped pecans or walnuts (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 1 1/2 quart souffle or pudding dish. Soak raisins in rum for about 20 minutes. Peel, core and slice apples lengthwise, making slices about 1/4" thick. Mix breadcrumbs with sugar and cinnamon, then sprinkle with rum that has been drained off raisins and melted butter. Stir well, adding a couple drops of water if necessary to make a mixture as moist as wet sand.

Place about a third of the breadcrumb mixture in greased baking dish, followed by half of the apples. Sprinkle with half the raisins and nuts if you are using them. Add another layer of breadcrumbs, apples, raisins and nuts, topping with everything with the remaining crumbs. Dot well with butter. Bake about 30 minutes or until apples are tender and crumb topping is crisp and brown.

Enjoy warm with vanilla ice cream. Makes a stunning side for roast pork.

The Amber Light of Trees

The leaves have been spectacular the last two weeks, startling golds and crimsons waving in perfect blue afternoons. Even on the dull, rainy days like today some trees are still smoldering in the dim light. Fall is a season of changes, like any other season, but somehow more dramatic -a final flash and flare before winter sets in.

It's a quiet time for the garden. Time to tidy up the excesses of the summer, fix that hole in the fence, move some bulbs and get everything ready for a little rest before the Spring. Time to gather thoughts and take notes for next year. Only the parsnips remain in my vegetable garden, waiting for a good frost to bring out their sweetness.

Time to bake again, after months of fresh, cool foods and avoiding the heat of oven and stove. The markets are filled with ruddy pyramids of apples and the wonderfully quirky shapes of winter squash. It is time again for heady spices to warm the house on a chilly evening. There is a delicate and fleeting perfection in this time of year. The anticipation of Thanksgiving and holidays to come is not yet tainted by reality, all the pressures and disappointments of those holidays. Oh, what joy, to come back from a long walk in brisk wood to a cozy house full of baking smells and the warmth of family and friends.