The Applesauce Adventure.

Out in the middle of cornfields and dairy farms, if one drives long enough, one will come to this country orchard.  The simple sign by the one side of the road...

...and the acres of orchards are the only indication that this was our destination.

We walked in the side room of the barn and discovered what it was we were looking for.  Apples of many varieties in huge wooden bins. 

Oh, and homemade wooden rocking chairs in the one corner.  Now, let me ask you, do you frequent any stores that offer crates of apples and homemade rockers in the same place?

We knew we wanted Cortland apples.  We found the Cortland bin, with red baskets on the side.
In the far corner were big plastic bags to help with the process.  Next we started the chore of
picking out the apples of our choice.  I informed my husband to go for the reddest apples, and the biggest, and the ones with no markings:). 

I smiled at the thought of two grown adults digging through huge wooden crates of apples.
For him, this was a brand new experience.  For me, this was the third time that I
visited the apple farm, although it had been at least three years since my last visit.

On the side small table, were containers of pure local honey for sale.  Never mind that some of the containers say "New York".  One just has to use whatever containers are available.

Homemade apple cider was also available.

I opened the small refrigerator door and saw the gallons filled and waiting to be purchased.

During the apple choosing process, the only other person we saw, was a lady who stopped by for some apples.  No owners, no helpers, and no other souls did we see.  When we were finished filling
our baskets, we looked around to see how to pay for our apples, because there certainly wasn't anyone to ask.  Then we saw it, a written sign on the side door of the refrigerator.  How trusting these dear folks are.  I walked through the wooden door of the farmhouse, and there I found a tablet and a steel box, in the small foyer.  The title at the top of the tablet page said, "Name, and amount of apples purchased".  At the top of the steel box was a slit for checks or cash.  What an unique and interesting experience!

Upon arriving home, I scrubbed the apples thoroughly, cut them in quarters, cooked them until boiling and soft.

I pulled out my trusty Norpro Sauce Master, and proceeded to make my applesauce, adding only enough sugar as needed, and a bit of vanilla to each batch.  The Cortland apples are sweet and don't need a lot of sugar.  They also produce pink applesauce, which for some reason, I like. 

"Pink delicious goodness", ready for the freezer.

From the country to the freezer in a few easy and yet time consuming steps.

I will tell you, that in the middle of these steps, my mother called and told me that I must go out
front of the house and see the amazing sunset.  So, one listens to one's mother, and I headed out
to capture the night's closing beauty.

As the sun went down, I hurried back inside to finish the chore I had started.

I thought so much of my grandma and my mother as I worked on the sauce.  All through the years, I have helped them with the making of applesauce.  My grandma canned it and we would line the shelves of her old, cold cellar in the bottom of her farmhouse with colorful, delicious looking full canning jars.  Each summer I would help her can the produce from her trees and gardens.  When I helped my mother to make applesauce, we would freeze it, instead of the canning process.  I remember the first year that she purchased the Stain Master food strainer, and how much easier it made the chore.

In contemplating whether this happening was blog worthy or not, I hoped that by me sharing it, not one single one of you will feel like you need to do this.  It just happens that it was something I grew up doing and for that, I am most thankful.  If you stop by my home, I would love to share some of the "pink goodness" with you.