Picking a Peck of Tradition

 I love family traditions.  For me, partaking in these annual events – sometimes silly, other times somber – invoke my senses, filling my spirit with all that is good and wholesome of a childhood.  My family traditions are little gems of sweet, fond memories, and for a while they were mine, all mine.  But now, the best part of these traditions is being able to share them with my own family…making new memories for my children to pass down to their little ones and to their little ones and so forth.  {Sniff, sniff.  All you mommas know what I’m talking about.  Tissues, please.}

For as long as I can remember, growing up we’d take annual fall trips to the apple orchard.  Since my first was born we’ve been several times, and each time coming away with new images instilled in my heart.  For our most recent trip, we journeyed to the closest orchard to us – two hours away.  Trying to be perfect little diligent parents, we prepared for the long car rides, packed a plentiful picnic lunch, and dressed the children in layers. {Y’all see where this is going, right?}

Well, true to Murphy’s Law what could go wrong, most indeed went wrong.  We chose to go the same day as the state’s apple festival, so naturally everyone and their mother was on the road which doubled the time it took to get there.  We were still on the road at lunchtime and the kids were starving, so we had to dig into our packed lunch, forgoing the picnic we had planned.  My husband We forgot to pack baby formula, of all things, and had to make a detour to the closest store.  By God’s grace, we finally made it to our destination in one piece.  Exhausted, we set out to turn around the mood of the day and boarded the tractor-pulled chariot out to the orchard.  My little princess does not do dirt, so we had to convince her that her outfit will survive even if she sits on hay.  Of course, we arrived much later in the day than anticipated so the sun was just beaming down on us.  I felt like a swampy mess afterwards.  On top of all that, all the Granny Smiths were picked through – my favorite cooking apple of choice.   

As I sit here complaining to y’all, the most wonderful, fantastical thing is that none of these mishaps even phased my children.  To watch them go on a treasure hunt for the most attractive apples…to witness their pure, youthful joy…to see them smiling from ear to ear just melted my heart, along with any negative, critical, completely adulterated opinions and jaded observations of the day.  Lamentations 3:22-23 quickly comes to mind, except I change “every morning” to “throughout the entire day”.   

The faithful love of the Lord never ends!  His mercies never cease.  Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE DAY. 

And for that, I am forever grateful.   

 

 

 

 

So what did we do with all those apples?  The first thing we made was Crockpot Applesauce.  I love this super simple recipe – only two ingredients.   

 

 

 

 

Start with some apples of any variety and size.  I picked out of our peck all the bruised and/or small ones.  Peel and chop them. 

 

Toss the peeled, cored, and chopped apples into the crockpot.  Put the lid on the crock pot and cook for two hours or until the apples are mushy enough to mash.

 

Mash the apples to the consistency of your liking.  {I prefer a chunkier texture.} I had the kids help me with this part.  They love helping mommy in the kitchen.

 

Add a healthy dash of cinnamon and mix.

 

Voila!  There you have it.  Homemade, all-natural, and delicious.

Got a thumbs-up!!

And what's better is that this applesauce can be used in other scrumptious recipes.  It's like an apple gift that keeps on giving.  My favorite is warming the applesauce and topping banana ice cream with it.  I'm even thinking about using it to make apple pie fries and serving it along side my ice cream with a  drizzle of caramel.  Decadence!!