The next course of action was to wash all the apples. But, naturally, when a bunch of adults encounter a bucket filled with apples and water, a highly competitive game of dunking-for-apples ensues. Naturally.
After all the apples were {somewhat} clean, the pressing began.
It’s so fun for us to start new seasonal traditions with our new community. I can imagine, ten years fast-forwarded, doing exactly this, but with all our little kids doing all the work. Us grown-ups can just kick our feet back and eat apple fritters. Right, mom and dad?? Isn’t that what parenting is like??
Anyway, it’s pretty special to have found such a wonderful group of friends our age.
When I was little, the group of homeschoolers we met with every week had a cider pressing party at a farm in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to mark the beginning of the school year. It was completely incredible to our young minds that this sweet amber treat dripped out of all those white-fleshed apples.
It’s still just as amazing this time.
We drank it raw, in little sips, comparing batches and commiserating over how the mixture of apple varieties impacts the taste- like the snootiest of wine connoisseurs.
The best batch was one in which we tossed in a wide mixture of varieties. A few bitter ones, a few sweet ones, a few that tasted very similar to pear, a few tart ones.
And just as the sun got low in the sky and we were adding layers to our outfits, the hot apple fritters came out of the house. Steaming, golden brown and dusted in confectioner’s sugar.
They literally melt in your mouth. The recipe is coming up next! Happy fall!
