The Taste of Home

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.

Hot Baked Cinnamon Apples

What do you associate with home? Share in the comments!


About Melissa ra Karit

I'm a queer, poly, genderqueer Witch. I'm a sex-positive feminist, an activist, and a writer. I believe that when we attend to our individual good, we approach the world with good in our hearts and change the world for the better. Opinions expressed here are solely my personal opinions, and do not represent the views of any organization with which I am affiliated.
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2 Responses to The Taste of Home

  1. jainabee says:

    What a wonderful legacy of apples you have. I’m partial to the Gravensteins…
    Though my first home was in an apple orchard near Watsonville, and I spent most of my childhood in apple-y Washington State, I only ever saw/tasted waxy, pulpy, tasteless Red Delicious (a terrible hoax, eh?) until my late teens. What I do remember enjoying was the nectar from purple clover blossoms in the vacant lots of the suburban mill towns in which I lived. They were everywhere, and always a source of sweetness and delight, even on the grimmest, most overcast days.

  2. There is a Gravenstein Apple Festival in my hometown every year, as well as an apple-named parade.

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