Apple pie season in MN

Simple Simon met a pie man going to the fair.....Just two days back on Thursday and Friday my friend Rachel and I made and baked 67 apple pies for our church to sell on Saturday at the city wide rummage sale. This was a repeat of our prior year feat when a farmer donated hundreds of pounds of dropped apples from the floods and some church hands gleaned them. We couldn't ignore that gift, somehow Rachel and I were conscripted to open a Methodist bakery. Maybe it's cause we are both retired and known as good cooks. Maybe it's that we are too willing to go along and help. But this is the last time...we are now officially out of business and I have recorded this on the web so that next year I can look back and vividly recall. Rachel and I are either slow learners or we are living proof of the adage that time heals all wounds including tired feet and legs and hands.

September and late August begin apple harvest here in this corner of MN which used to be the apple capital of the state. Now most of those orchards are gone to housing development. But the tradition of baking apple pies, apple squares and apple cakes continues. I don't know what's my excuse because I am not from here. Shades of the past and Apple Hill from CA. Or is it the recollection of the PA stories of Johnny Appleseed. Something about the first crisp coolness to the air and the memories of aroma of apple pies brings out our rolling pins.


We announced our retirement to all including her hubby, Glen, who helped us by peeling apples and who thought we could do this again this year. He recalled it being "fun" last year. I'm in charge of procurement which means making a Sam's run for 50 # sugar, 50 # flour, 12 # Crisco, 3 # butter and a large container of cinnamon and allspice. Then the local Woodman's for the pie tins. Glen purchased 70 # of apples, 40 # more than I wanted. But he considers this an outing of sociability and fun! That's because he sits on a stool and uses the apple peeling machine while I wash, cut and core apples, mix them with the sugar, cinnamon, allspice and flour and Rachel makes and rolls the crusts and slips the pies in and out of the oven. The day wraps with our massive clean up of the church kitchen and utensils. Glen says we are the three musketeers--I think we are the three stooges!

After standing on our feet for two long days in a row, 8:00AM till 5:30 PM I believe I've toughened up from last year. Thursday evening I was able to go to my monthly women's Bunko game and didn't feel too worn out. Oh those few glasses of Pinot wine hit the spot and rejuvenated me to shake those dice. I sure could have slept in longer Friday morning but there was not time to slip back and count apples jumping over the fences. By Friday evening I knew we had done something as did Rachel's feet and my arthritic right hand. So we advised Glen to sell the remaining bags of apples at the sale the next day and we closed up at 5:30 Friday. Slave labor ends.

All this to benefit our Missions committee with funds to distribute to needy deserving causes. I'm not even on that committee but I do this so Rachel won't be the lone ranger pie maker. Last year we had a little help both days but this year one gal's husband is facing hip replacement surgery and had presurgery appointments with him. Others did not answer their phones. Likely they remember last year's shifts and played "nobody home" when they saw my number on caller id. Our pastor's wife helped out for a few hours on Thursday taking pity on us and using this as a chance to get to know us.

Oh we make it pleasant and have several laughs. At the end of the day, we look like sugar and spice and not so nice. I thought I was the solitary sloppy cook--I am just like my grandma who wore whatever she cooked. Rachel does just the same; hoisting one 25 # sack of flour she overshot her bowl and somehow nearly dipped her nose in the sack. As it was she had flour on her glasses, through her hair. Well it didn't show up as she has white hair.

The pies were better this year and sold for $10 to $8. Last year one elderly lady who volunteered to help was stingy with the apples. She made Frisbees or pancakes, not pies. So Rachel tried to adjust some the next day by adding apples and remaking. We gave up and those pies nearly ruined our reputation. This year we knew we could regain it, but we did not solicit help widely lest she show up again. With volunteers you have to take what comes.

Friday while baking the aroma enticed sale of five pies from a small group meeting at our church. Saturday the men have a brat cook where the town comes out to feed amidst garage sale mania. Jerry & I went up to eat lunch. They also sold slices of pies this year. Finding no rummage of interest or vital calling, I even bought one of my own pies to bring home....well you wouldn't think I'd want to make another pie after home after this two day event. And there was Jerry drooling because unlike last year I'd not brought any samples home. We ate them ourselves to be sure we were not making inferior merchandise. Our pastor joined us for lunch Thursday and ate pie too. Friday he returned at lunch and sat smiling. But Friday there was no "free pie." The lure of the aroma did him in so he opened his wallet to buy a pie against his wife's advice that he did not need to eat pie every day. Makes you wonder if Eve really was tempted with just an apple hanging on the tree or if that slithery serpent baked an apple pie and the aroma was just irresistible.

It will take a couple days yet for my hand to be right again, and then I'll be making our own pies. I'd already made one apple pie and one pan of French apple squares a couple weeks ago. But for a couple days here in recovery mode, I'd just as soon not see an apple or the rolling pin.