I grew up in apple country.
That’s how my dad used to say it, quiet and proud. Apples were our family’s work and love- my dad, grandfather, and great-grandfather all worked in apple orchards at one point or another.
I remember two houses from when I was little. One was big, with a meticulous garden on both sides and an apple orchard out back that marked how far my sister and I could go without an adult. That house was on Welter Court, off of Welter Lane, because someone up the family line built most of the houses out there.
The other house was, in comparison, small. It felt fuller, the table expanding for Thanksgiving and Christmas. There, the apple trees were down the small gravel road a bit, mixed with a plum, a pear, an Asian plum, and a cherry tree apiece.
I love apples. I prefer the sweeter kinds like Delicious and Galas. I love the crunch. I love apples spiced, baked, cooked into dishes, added to salads, reduced slowly to apple butter, and turned into apple cider. Apples taste and smell like home to me. Here’s an apple recipe for you.
What do you associate with home? Share in the comments!