Got up bright and early this morning--early enough that it wasn't bright at all, or even light out--to go up to Apple Hill with a friend.
We needn't have left so early. It's harvest season and I wanted to leave before the traffic lines back up several miles onto the freeway, but the reports of rain turned out to be true--not so much here in the Valley, but up in the foothills. It was coming down pretty hard, hard enough to scare the crowds away so that the traffic jams didn't materialize.
It's fun watching the apple coring and peeling machine work at Boa Vista Orchards, and also watch the men press apple "puddling" (apples that have been sliced and diced into a "slop") into cider and juice. We saw the leftovers, the "pudding" after it had all the juice squeezed out of it, and it looked something like sawdust, so much of the juice having been pressed out of it. I'm sure it's used as feed somewhere.
Bought Arkansas Black apples, cider, cooking sauces, pastries, soup mixes--you name it. Much of the non-perishables will go for Christmas presents, shopping for which I'm doing quite well this year.
Not a bad way to spend a morning.
I grew up near a cider mill and the leavings from the cider press were available and free, for gardeners' compost bins. It's wonderful stuff for that purpose. A side benefit, for country-dwelling deer hunters, is that deer love it. A family friend used to leave it on top of his compost (as opposed to mixing it in) until all of his family had their deer.
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