Apple Sauce and All Things Fall

I meant to post a few days ago about the cold chill in the air and the ever increasing instinct in my body to snuggle under warm fabrics for the next few months when the sunshine came out and this was the result:

"O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"

I kid you not: I repeat those words in my head (or out loud) EVERY time the sun is shining and we get to run through the hills. Does his face not look like he could shout that joyous phrase at any moment?

Bonus points if you know who the author of those words are. It's been over twenty years since I first heard that poem and it sticks with me as my one of my favourites, mostly because of that line. It may have been a nonsensical poem, but I have never found better words in my life to describe the happiness that bursts out of my chest when we can enjoy the clean air and warm sun. How lucky are we?

Charles seems to think we are very, very much so.

We have been enjoying the sunlight as much as we can because soon we'll be cloaked in a dense blanket of fog that won't lift for months on end. Just like how it feels today. That's the biggest downfall of living in the Okanagan Valley: the dark, cheerless winters.

It may not be cold, it may not be snowy, but it is mentally draining to not see the sun for weeks. Believe me, having lived in Northern BC, I would take the cold and snow over the closed-in sky. I suffer terribly from S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder) every year and I think that's why I rejoice so much and drop all responsibilities as soon as the sun is out because I know my carefree days are numbered.

If my story sounds like yours, stay tuned, as I know I will be discussing SAD extensively as well as my methods of coping.

But for all the sun, it is fall, and that means...Winter is coming.

I truly don't know where that phrase is from. Not even the slightest clue. But I've seen it everywhere and it seems like quoting it is what all the cool kids are doing, so there it is.

But can you feel the change in the air? The gloom, the colours, swirling in a beautiful discordance.

For as negatively as my emotions are affected (or maybe because of it) by the weather, I am constantly in awe by the sublimity of it all.It is Sublime. Capital S. I won't go on about the provocations I feel out in nature at this time of year, but if you've felt it, you know what I mean.

Give them a trail and they'll endlessly explore together. Can't you just smell that forest?

With the change of seasons, I've also redecorated my home a little bit.First, I had to move some of my plants inside.

This is my fig "tree" and my daughter's watermelon plant. Yep, watermelon. Here's the thing with me and plants: we don't get along well. They try to live and I kill them. That pretty much sums up all my relationships with living green things. I have managed to keep a plant alive that my parents gave me FOUR years ago (it's a record) but that's because it lets me know when it needs water by lowering all its leaves and looking half-dead, but it always perks up again once it has water. It stays alive by playing dead. Works for grizzlies, works for me.

We used to live in Dawson Creek. At the Safeway where we shopped, there was always a display of potted plants and flowers right as you walked in the door. On the right hand side, usually on the floor, were the homely looking plants that really needed love. I gravitated towards those ones. I would bring them home, care for them for a few months, and then they'd be a crispy pile of leaves once I lost the rhythm of caring for them. (Thankfully, that particular trait of mine did not extend into motherhood as we're almost five years in and she's still here.)

My husband would always try to dissuade me from buying another plant after the last one was disposed of, but I would insist, or just buy one when he wasn't with me. One exchange that I will always remember went like this:

Me: "This plant really wants me to bring it home."
John: "Nope. That plant would really like to live."

I didn't get the damn plant.

John's a funny guy. Once when there was a spider running across our kitchen, I grabbed the closest thing to me to throw on it: an 18.9 litre jug of water. Then I asked him if he thought the spider was still alive and made him check. He stared at me, unblinkingly, like I was crazy (like usual, really), lifted the jug, and declared, "Nope, he's just playing crushed-to-death." See, funny guy. But he tolerates my antics and I appreciate it.

But this year I grew things. Kind of. We grew things. John and our daughter planted the melon plants but I was in charge of watering. Team work. And look!

A teeny tiny watermelon! Is that not the cutest thing?

They weren't planted until July, faaar too late in the year, but who knows, maybe they'll grow inside? I'll keep you posted.And this melon!

We have no idea what it is anymore. Two types were planted, only one survived, and our daughter ran off with the tags. Mystery melon. But again, they were planted so late, I don't expect it to grow much more than this as we're nearing 0 at night. And it's the sole survivor. There were a dozen tiny ones until the deer found them. Then there was two. And then there was one. I hope he can make it.

And finally, I can share with the world the vision I had a few months ago when peaches were in full swing and I was getting fed up with my fruit bowl. Behold, my 2 am brainwave:

It's a wine rack I picked up for $7 from a very nice lady selling it on Facebook. It was exactly what I had been searching for for months. Since moving to Kelowna, I've always kept a fruit bowl on the counter but that has lead to some fruit casualities: that one piece of fruit smushed in the bottom of the bowl that molds and spreads its white furry love to its surrounding friends. But no more! I cannot wait until next year's peach crop just to try them out on this rack. Although I am lucky to have a few last-of-season peaches still to enjoy.

Ah, there's nothing like local apples and the pears. Except for local cherries, apricots, nectarines, and peaches, but they already had their time to shine this summer, so let's focus on these fall beauties.

We are so lucky to live close to my grandma in Salmon Arm and she has a bounty of delicious produce for us every time we visit. The last time we went, we came home with a huge bag of apples from her tree. And they are delicious. They taste how an apple should taste. I know that sounds silly, but with selective breeding and overproduction, I find some apples super tasteless. But these are amazing. However, with the colder weather, I don't always want to eat a fresh apple and that's where baking comes in.

Fun fact: I used to dislike apples. The only time I would ever eat one was in apple pie, once or twice a year. Now I crave apples and love them dearly, eating them daily.But I still love apple pie. And I've been making them for as long as I can remember. My grandma on my moma's side is a pie-making machine. She used to make dozens of pies every fall. I have never seen so many pies in my life in one place as at her home during pie season.

Pie season is totally a thing.

I crave apple pies as soon as the weather turns, adding credit to the pie season theory. I really wanted an apple pie this week so with my bounty of apples, I made this galette for breakfast one day.

My daughter was SO excited to have pie for breakfast. Apple pie in this house is big deal.

The first time I made pie for my husband, he ate it all from the pan with a fork. By himself. I have then learnt that if I'm making a pie to always make two, one just for him and one for everyone else to share. Since those early days, he is now my constant apple peeler-- he's really good at it. And he'll do it with a smile because he gets a pie at the end of all his hard work. We've always been a good team.

But this galette was an experiment at a faster way to get that "pie" flavour. But I won't be sharing the recipe at this time. I'm sorry! I want to make it again when that dear man of mine is home in a few weeks for his final taste test before I share it with the rest of you. It needs the stamp of approval from his discerning taste buds.

The other thing I always make when the weather turns is apple sauce and thanks to my Instant Pot, it is so simple.

Recipe

6 apples, cut into chunks
Juice of 1 lemon
1 tsp cinnamon

Place on high pressure in the Instant Pot for 7 minutes. Then blend it all, either in a powerful blender or with a hand blender. Add in splashes of water to get your desired texture. You could strain the sauce to make it smooth, if you choose. I like the little skin pieces.

Enjoy warm on a cool day. It really is something special.

PS: my daughter LOVES to eat it mixed one to one with plain Greek yogurt and sprinkled with additional cinnamon. It's her favourite snack to bring to school. Try it. It's reminiscent of apple pie a la mode.

Stay warm and cozy, my friends. I'll be posting another recipe in three days <3