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•••••NOVEMBER 9, 2022•••••
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Applesauce My daughter’s family recently bought a house on the outskirts of Duluth. My two granddaughters, Addison and Evelyn, were excited to tell me about it. In addition to bigger bedrooms, it has a huge yard “and a magic forest,” Addie claimed, speaking of the wooded area. “Guess what, Papa? Our new yard has five apple trees,” Evelyn was excited weeks away. I wasn’t even to share. “We can pick some sure if they’d have apples apples, and you can make left by then. apple pie.” I’ll admit to being kind of particular (snobbish, actually) when it comes to the apples I use for pie. Granny Smith apples are always my preference. I like the tart flavor, and Granny Smith apples don’t get mushy like some other varieties when baked. But Evelyn tugged my heartstrings the day she was born. If she wants apple pie made with her apples, then that’s what we’ll use – no matter the variety. (As long as they’re not road apples.) That might sound silly, but this is the prankster who, at four years old, pulled a rubber chicken out of her coat, shook it in my face, and cracked up laughing! I proceed with caution. Moving day was still six
When moving day came, there was plenty of strong help and vehicles. The crew quickly moved a family of four and two cats, across town. After the work was done, we had a feast of pizza. Then, the kids gave us a tour of the property. It was the first time I had noticed the apple tree next to the house; it was thick with bright red orbs. “Wow, that tree is really loaded with apples,” I said. “Have you tried them? Are they any good?” Sydney said they were.
the ground, and laughing. “That’s bear poop.” Sydney seemed a bit alarmed. “Bears are coming this close to the house?” “Of course, they are,” I said. “You have a tree full of apples, and bears love them.” I smiled at my daughter, “Hey, welcome to country living in northern Minnesota, kid!” I reached up into the tree to grab an apple.
After polishing the apple on my shirt, I bit into the fruit. It was so crisp; it snapped with each bite I took. “This is a really good apple,” I said. I finished eating the apple and chucked the core off into the tall grass on the yard’s The apples lower on the tree edge. Then I picked another, were pretty well-thinned; polishing it on my shirt. Sydney said the deer were eating them. “It’s not just (Just the Other Day cont’d on deer,” I said, pointing to pg 3)
NOVEMBER 9, 2022
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The flavor was sweet but a little tart; the texture was perfect. I was trying to identify the variety. I asked my daughter if she knew, but she did not. Finally, halfway through the second apple, I figured it out. “Oh my, these are Honey Crisp apples!”
the apples and sell them,” I suggested. But, when you’ve just moved a family of four to a new house and still don’t know where anything is, picking apples is not a priority. I picked a dozen apples to take home with me.
The following Friday, we brought a big pot of chili to Sydney’s house. After supper, I presented an apple “Is that good,” Sydney pie. (Of course, I brought asked. the ice cream, too.) Every“Good? It’s awesome! I think one loved the apple pie. they’re the best apple for “Are these apples from our eating,” I answered. “Honey tree,” Sydney asked. I told Crisp are always the most her they were, indeed. “This expensive apples at the is really good,” she said! “I store.” I looked at the tree thought you always used again. Some branches bent Granny Smith Apples?” over from the weight of so “I do use Granny Smiths,” many apples, especially toward the top, where the deer I said. “Honey Crisps also and the bears couldn’t reach make an excellent pie, but who wants to pay the price?” them. “You should pick all
PAGE 3 A few days later, with my apple picker, I went to their house to pick apples with my granddaughters. Addison took an apple from my box, “Papa, this one is no good. The birds have been eating this apple,” she said, showing me the marks. We took a break and went to the kitchen with the apple. I washed it, cut out the bad spots, and cut it into slices. The three of us ate the bad apple. “See, we can still use the apples even if the birds pecked at them.” Then we went back to the apple tree The girls gathered apples that fell to the ground while I used the picker to reach into the tree. “Ev picked up an (Just the Other Day cont’d on pg 4)
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when I was a kid, all these products came in glass jars. apple, wrinkled her face, and You just can’t use plastic showed me, “Papa, I think a jars in a canner. Granted, I’ll try anything once, but not bird pooped on this one.” that. “Hey,” I had a thought. “People gave me various “Birds will do that,” I said home-canned goods; I still with a smile. “It will wash had all those jars.” off and be fine; go ahead and put it in the box.” We kept picking until we had all I shuffled through the cabinets, finding nine jars with the apples I could reach. “I Wapello County has over 500 active warrants. Warneed a longer pole to get the lids and rings. Some were pints, and others were halfrant Wednesday’s are designed to help law enforcetop apples,” I said. We had pint jars. I know you’re not ment locate wanted persons, with the public’s help. Do nearly a bushel of apples; supposed to reuse canning NOT attempt to apprehend these individuals. Instead, that was enough. lids, but I didn’t have any call the Ottumwa Police Department at (641) 6830661 or Wapello County Sheriff’s Department at (641) When I got home, I realized 684-4350 if you have any information on their where- I had way too many apples. So I kept what I could use abouts. Your tips can be made anonymously. and gave the rest to a friend. Lana and I had the same intentions; applesauce! (Just the Other Day cont’d from pg 3)
Warrant Wednesday
Lana peeled and cored her apples before cooking them. “It took hours, over a few days,” she said. I used Mom’s method.
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I washed and quartered them. I tossed the pieces, seeds, skins, husks, stems, and all, into a pot. I put several cinnamon sticks and some nutmeg in the pot, too. Adding a cup or two of water, I covered the pot and cooked the apples until they were mush. The pot needs to be stirred often to prevent the apples from burning on the bottom. It takes about forty minutes to thoroughly cook the apples down.
While the apples cooked, I got the vintage green Cosco stool, pulled the steps out, then climbed up to the cabinet above the refrigerator. I had to shuffle through several items. (Bottles of wine and hooch.) There it was the back of the cabinet; Although I had more prodmy antique colander. I pulled uct than jars, I had a blast it out. canning the applesauce. It reminded me of days The aluminum colander is cone-shaped, with a handle long ago. Following Mom’s advice, I checked all the lids on the top side. It sits in a three-legged stand. The top after the jars had cooled. of the handle has a wooden Only one half-pint jar had ball to use as a grip. Next, I a bad seal – the rest were pulled out my turkey roaster good. So I ate the unsealed jar of applesauce. I had from the bottom cabinet. more applesauce in the refrigerator to be canned, but I I set the colander assemwanted even more. bly inside the turkey pan, then scooped two cups of apple mush into the hopper. John had extension poles in his garage. I used them With the wooden handle, I to pick all the Honey Crisp pushed the apple mixture apples left in the treetop. down, then began pressI stopped at the store to ing it through the tiny holes buy more jars with new lids with the handle. Instead of and rings, then went home. holding the handle, I rolled Finally, at nine-o-clock p.m., the ball top in the palm of I got started. my hand, making a circular motion inside the cone. I put the pot of cold applesauce on the stove to The turkey pan catches the reheat it for canning. While applesauce as it runs outside the cone. The colander it warmed up, I cut more works like a sieve, capturing apples and put them on the stove to cook and boiled waall the skins, seeds, stems, ter to sterilize the new jars. and husks. I ended up with Speaking of which, I ran out three gallons of perfectly smooth apple sauce. I hadn’t to the van to bring the two made a large batch like this flats of new jars inside. Unfortunately, I wasn’t watchfor probably thirty years! ing my applesauce closely “What will I do with all this applesauce,” I wondered? “I enough; It started to boil. don’t have that much room in the freezer - I know, I’ll can it!”
With the green Cosco stool, I retrieved my pressure cooker from the top shelf of the pantry. Of course, I haven’t done any canning for thirty years either – but canning is like riding a bike; you never forget, right?
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new ones. Besides, growing up, money was tight; Mom sometimes reused them. “You have to check each jar, whether it’s a new or used lid, to make sure they sealed properly,” she would say. So I had nothing to lose. In a worst-case scenario, the lids would not seal. Then I would have to refrigerate the apple sauce, get new lids, and recan it tomorrow.
I had everything ready to start. Oops. Having not canned anything for thirty years, I no longer own canning jars! Not a problem. When I was a kid, Mom would save empty jars for canning. Mayonnaise, peanut butter, jelly; any jar would work if the canning lids fit. But, of course,
Like an erupting volcano, bubbles of steam rose from the bottom of the pan, pushing upward, then bursting through the surface, splashing thick applesauce like hot lava. I shut off the gas burner and tried to stir the pot. A glob of hot sauce landed on the back of my fingers. “OUCH!” I rushed to the sink to rinse my hand under cold water. To make matters worse, I scorched the bottom of the pan, ruining the rest of that batch. “Is this project going south on me?” The jars I had canned the night before were still sitting on the counter. Then, suddenly, I started hearing the sealed lids pop. One, then
another. A few moments later, another, and another. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I complained with concern. “They were all good this morning.” I removed the rings to recheck the sealed lids. They all seemed to be tight, but these were used lids. As I checked them, I heard two more seals pop – but all the lids were tight. I started laughing as I figured out the source. The new jars had been kept outside, in the van, where the cold air had contracted, making the lids grip the jars. Then as new jars warmed in the kitchen, the air expanded, and the lids would pop as if they had been unsealed. My canned applesauce was fine; all my worry was for naught. By now, the new batch of applesauce was ready to run through the colander. I smiled as I watched the smooth applesauce run outside the colander and into the turkey roaster pan. When all the apples were strained, I canned the applesauce; of course, I saved a good portion to sample the next day. I cleaned the kitchen while I waited for the pressure canner to cool down. Then, I removed the jars from the canner, setting them on a towel by the full jars I had canned the day before. Next, I washed the canner and used the green Cosco stool to put it back on the top shelf of the pantry. I would let the jars cool down, then check the seals in the morning. It took four hours to clean, cook, press, and can another batch of applesauce. “I would have had more if I hadn’t scorched the rest of the first pot,” I said. I looked at all those jars of applesauce on the counter. It was one in the morning, and my hand hurt. “A small price to pay,” I said as I turned off the lights and started walking down the dark hallway. “That applesauce is going to taste amazing this winter. Not just applesauce, but Honey Crisp Applesauce.”
NOVEMBER 9, 2022
Avoid a Fight My wife and I were enjoying a fall late afternoon on the porch last week. The dogs slept close by soaking up the last of the day’s sunshine. My wife glanced up the driveway and quietly said, “there is a skunk headed toward the house.” Being a nonchalant as possible, I strode to the end of the porch and shut the gate. I was not sure at the time what I was going to do about the skunk, but I knew, I did not want the dogs involved. We have been there before and bathing a couple of dogs was not on the agenda for a relaxing afternoon. I have learned, it is best to not pick a fight with a skunk. Even if you win the fight, the lingering smell stays with a person for quite some time as reminder of what transpired. Skunks are famous for carrying rabies, so this is also a concern. This skunk appeared to be healthy, just mind-
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ing his own business as he sniffed along the ground looking for something good to eat. Where he was walking along the driveway, I thought he was probably hunting moles. Skunks can hear or smell a mole underground and dig them up for a quick meal. We have had problems with moles near the driveway for most of the summer. I was sure he was more effective at removing the moles than I had been, so I let him continue. The skunk hunted along the edge of the timber and came down in front of house, stopping under a hickory tree to eat a couple of hickory nuts. The crunching and rustling of the leaves finally woke up the dogs. When they spotted the skunk, they tore off to the end of the porch, barking and ready to attack. They seemed quite frustrated that the gate was closed, which only increased the ferocity of their barking. The skunk looked our way and decided to leave. He was willing to back off and avoid a fight, if possible, also. He seemed to be in no hurry but watched over his shoulder as he made his way up the hill and into the timber. I waited an hour or so after the skunk left before I opened the gate to the porch. The dogs
had not forgotten the skunk. The ran down to the hickory tree and smelled every inch of the ground. Jag picked up his scent trail and tracked him through the timber and up across the hay field. He must have lost the trail somewhere in the paintball woods as he did not stink when he came back, though we were prepared for the worst. We keep the recipe and necessary ingredients handy for the skunk spray removal wash. We have had to use it many times over the years. Since that afternoon when we were fortunate enough
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to see the skunk before the dogs did, there have been times we get a faint aroma of skunk in the air. We have not seen him since and are only hoping he chooses to stay away. Perhaps he wishes to avoid a fight as much as we do.
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'ottumwa's bacon-fest'
BACONTOWN
sat. nov 12 11a-5p bridge view
free admission free kids games 11-3 live music
AL R E SEV RS O D VEN ON C A B E R PA E ST R O P M S M K! ITE C U B A E AR
NEW THIS YEAR 2 INDOOR KIDS CARNIVAL RIDES!
Plus, we're giving away several cases of bacon
BECAUSE NOBODY MAKES MORE BACON THAN OTTUMWA , IOWA