After Apple Picking

Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
- Robert Frost

The last days of apple season are upon us, cider and jellies and jams are being made, but the pickings are slim in the orchards. The weather of late has been lousy, so we delayed our annual picking session knowing that many of our favorite varieties were pretty much done for the year.

In an omen of our success, I unearthed a saved copy of my friend Andrew Galarneau's article in the BuffNews about local U-picks. The girls used it to stuff the scarecrows they were making this morning. It didn't matter.

No matter how much we discuss other options, we alwaws end up at Murphy Orchards in Burt. It's a known quantity. They have pigs and goats and cows and ducks and chickens to feed. There are horses at an adjacent farm that love getting fed an apple.

It was actually a stop on the underground railroad.

The Northern Spys were really good, and we even found a few of the last of the Macs. Best of all, Mrs. Murphy herself gave me permission to snag a couple of hunks of fruit wood cuttings for this seasons smoking need. So for dinner, I pan-fried a couple of chops from that wonderful half-pig I bought this fall, with some fresh applesauce - no sugar needed, with some spaghetti squash we bought at the NT farmers market last week.

Yum.