Apples! Again!

Last year I wrote about the varieties of apples we were getting, and you can read about here. This may turn into an annual thing.

This year as I was unloading the farm box, I noticed a yellowish apple with brown speckles, something you may see on a dusty tree living on a dusty ranch-type road. It had a sticker:

Ashmead's Kernel? I know kernels from linear algebra, but how do these words even make sense together? I had never heard of such a thing. I peeled the sticker off and took a big bite.

YES. An all-caps single word answer to the initial experience of the Ashmead's Kernel. The body was crisp, the meat tangy and sweet, with a tart ending that left you both thirsty and quenched. My my my, such a drab facade hiding such a wonderful thing.

The Ashemad's Kernel was first recorded in the UK back in the early 1700s, and is one of the very few British varieties that thrive in the US as well.

This year we haven't had the 18 separate varieties over two months like last year, but there have been a whole slew of new apples that, again, I had never ever heard of. For example:

The Northern Spy was developed in the 1840s near Rochester, NY. Our specimen was good, tart and sweet, but less transcendental that the Ashmead's Kernel, but the nearly mushy flesh may have played into that.

Another heretofore unknown to me apple variety:

The White Winter Pearmain. This apple was too mushy to get a full idea of how good it could be. The pearmain apple is from the UK originally, but this yellow one was only slightly more interesting than the yellow delicious you can find in supermarkets.

We also got a bag of the tiny and awesome Crimson Golds that we used to saute on a smoking pan with brandy and maple syrup for a pork garnish:

This year we also got a pair of Pink Pearls, but the pictures didn't come out so well. the cool thing with them is that the flesh has a pink band between the skin and the white flesh around the core. The flavor was as close to sweet tarts I've found in the apple world.

Also, I lined up one box's apple contents up like last year for a photo shoot. In this one particular box, we got seven different varieties with two each. The Arkansas Black's this year have been great, as have the Mutsu and the Calville Blancs.

Those Calville Blancs have been crisp and juicy, so I've been able to place the flavor, which last year it was tough because they were so mushy. Their flavor resembles lychees, which was a pleasant surprise. With each week the Ashmead's Kernels lose a bit of their incredible-ness, a reality I try to ignore.

APPLES!

Having Returned

At work we are associated with an improvement network, and I've been learning about improvement science. Previously I wasn't aware that there was such a thing.

A group email updating some information about upcoming events from a boss ended with: "I trust you are all resting nicely." I read it huddled in the car with a sleeping toddler as Corrie was checking into our night's stop that evening in Grants, a tiny mountain town in central New Mexico. It was after midnight and a blistering wind made the 34 degree night painfully frigid, at least for us beach denizens. We were on our way back to California.

"...resting nicely." I nodded to the email as it rested on the steering wheel.

I have a series of posts about Cassius's first trip to the Harrison Farm in Clarendon, TX, an hour south-east of Amarillo in the panhandle region of that enormous state.

It was magical. There was tractor riding, hornet battles, coyote howls in the darkness, and some pistol shooting. We got to the Petrified Forrest and later, Flagstaff. Cass even had a nice dinner with his Great Grandma Lorraine before we left Arizona for points east.

It was a great time, and one that will look better as time goes on and we begin to forget that we strapped our toddler into a car-seat for almost 40 hours, a full-time job's week worth of work.

But first I have at least one other post I have to get to before the Farm posts get going.

Urban Pumpkin Patches and the Petting Zoo

Somehow this year we missed our trip to Riley Farms for their U-pick for pumpkins and apples. I mean, sheesh, how'd we missed this? We were planning it for months, but when Corrie called to get some information she learned the apple harvest was over and the pumpkins were nearly done. Whoops, I guess.

We did get back over to Pa's Pumpkin Patch, our outskirts-of-town-urban pumpkin patch that parent drag their toddlers to every year:

They also had a petting zoo, where we subjected our Boy to sheep, goats...

...and chickens...

...among other critters.

Later on Corrie and Cass rode their tiny train as we introduced him to kettle corn:

As the season changes over we're beginning to see the holidays through the eyes of a person experiencing it for the first time. Last year Cass was here, but "experiencing" was limited at best. Even now, it's limited, but he has loads of fun doing these novel things.

Like Halloween. Our Boy missed Halloween this year, but mostly because he was sick. But also: we don't really live in a Trick-or-Treat area; he doesn't know what candy is; he doesn't really know what costumes are, and only has the mummy/chef outfit grandma sent him:

So, we're left with the for-the-parents pumpkin patches on the outskirts of town...

Did you see where I put that boat?

Apparently "abandoned on a random stretch of Eubank Ave" was the correct answer:

I drive on this stretch of Eubank everyday, and last Friday someone was there hammering away on the backside where a propeller might have been.

Strange scenes from the Southland...