cider

Picking apples didn't happen this year. It just wasn't in the cards with everything going on. September's always a busy month for us with back to school and Sam's birthday but this year it was just bonkers. But don't feel too sorry for us -- we've had a steady influx of locally grown apples from neighbors, friends, work pals, I even bought six bushels of apples for the charrette and they were a huge hit with everyone that came into the gym. We've munched on Honey Crisps and compared the tartness of a Jonagold with the pucker of a Granny Smith. Still, I was feeling a teentsy bit blue that fall was in full swing and an apple had not been plucked from a branch.

But that all changed on Tuesday night because my old friend Nance invited the family to come to her house to press some apple cider. Nance's owned a cider press for years and I've been invited to cider making gatherings in the past but just couldn't swing it. But this year, I knew it needed to happen. And boy am I glad it did.

We arrived at Nance's place in Little Village at 6 pm. She has a slightly overgrown garden where she cultivates and cares for everything from chickens to currants. The boys, especially Ben, were in heaven. "It's like a forest in our city," Ben said, "with a rooster!"

Fighting the fading light, we quickly set to work chopping up apples that were grown on Nance's parents' farm outside of Barrington. There were seven of us cutting up small imperfect heirloom apples, so we filled our bins and buckets pretty swiftly. Ben hung out with the chickens and Sam found a bench and dove into a book.

Then the fun really began. With a fat, full moon floating overhead, we started feeding the chopped apples into the antique press named "Lawrence" (after its original owner) painted a wonderful turquoise blue with original wooden components. We took turns tamping down the apples and turning the giant wheel that pushes the apple pulp into the wooden basket. Sam quickly put his book down (it was too dark to read anyhow) and was turning that wheel with all his might. Once the basket was filled with chopped up apples, then it was time to squeeze the cider out of the pulp and into buckets and jars.

Sam hopped onto this task as well. It really took a lot of upper body strength to squuueeeeeeeze all the juice out of the apples. When the cider started trickling down the wooden channel and into a glass jar, we all sighed collectively, it was such a lovely sound. And it smelled divine.

Nance had asked us each to bring a jar so that we could take home some cider. I brought one Ball jar for our family. But she was so impressed with Sam's determination, hard work and the joy he was getting out of pressing the cider, that she sent us home with three jars. Three! What a gift.

Of course it's the most delicious cider we have ever tasted. And we are savoring it, having wee jelly jar glasses of it breakfast & supper so as to make it last. We clinked our glasses the morning after our cider making, our arms sore from pounding, turning, pulling. "To apples, to cider, to Nance for inviting us." I asked Sam if he would like to go back again and press cider next year and he said, "Oh yeah, that was awesome." Yes it was.  We will find time to pick apples next year. And hopefully bring some over to Nance's for another cider pressing party.

 

Comments

[Jennifer Tawse]

Crisp words, sweet and happy moments of your apple and kid filled world i October 2011. Love reading your posts and the words have this presence-truly! It's the simple things that make you full of cheer, yes?

[Bonnie Tawse]

yes, simple is best for me!