Apple Cider Memories

This is the SHIZNIT!

I used to go apple picking in Amherst every autumn. Then we would go to our friend's farm in Shutesberry where he had an old fashioned wooden cider press, and make the best fucking cider!

Those were marvelous days. Cool crisp air, but warm sun. Leaves beginning to turn. Apples heavy on the trees. Macintosh, of course. Climbing orchard ladders and choosing apples without worm holes, because I'm fussy like that. Laughing with my Dad and our friends. Then back to Robert Brown's farm, where we would throw all the apples into the press and take turns cranking the press down to squeeze the juice out of the apples, leaving a pulpy mess behind that Robert would feed to his pigs.

Then into the farmhouse with the fresh pressed cider, toss some into a soup pot with some cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves, and sit around the fireplace drinking hot mulled cider, eating fresh popped popcorn, and more laughter and love and fun. Those were absolutely great times and I sorely miss them.

Can't get good cider in Texas (OR Macintosh apples!). All the cider they have looks and tastes just like regular apple juice. Here's a pic:

Apple Juice. That is all.

I miss that thick and pulpy tart brown cider. Man, that's the stuff!