Up until I lived in Philadelphia I had never owned a proper
winter coat. I had never experienced what it was like to have your whole body
be uncomfortably warm from the extensive scarf-hoodie-boots bundling and yet
have your face still completely frozen off from the wind.
I never knew what real fall was. Or real spring. I didn’t
know how different each season could smell. I didn’t know how much one person
could grow to hate that stupid awful horrible month of February where you can’t
understand why winter was ever invented and why in the heck it JUST KEEPS GOING
ON AND ON AND ON.
Among all these things I never knew or did, there was apple
picking.
Now, some people may think that apple picking is for children.
Well… Okay, it is.
BUT. It can also be for adults. I swear. A totally
acceptable activity for a 20 something year old to do with their parents.
When my parent’s came to visit me one fall weekend Senior
year, I made this very argument. They gave in without too much of a fight—the
power of being an only child I suppose—and we drove about an hour outside of
Philly until we found ourselves surrounded by orchards and fields of oranges
and reds and yellows.
The apple orchard we finally stopped in was filled with
people, mostly children.
I chose to ignore this.
We have a vegetable garden at home, this was nothing like that. It was enormous and foreign. Rows and rows of trees, all marked with the different apple varieties. In my little California world there were ever only two kinds—the red ones and the green ones. So this was news to me.
There was just something amazing about picking one right off
the tree, wiping it off with the hem of my dress, and hearing that crisp crunch
as I bit into it. There’s nothing like standing in an endless row of green with
apples trampled into the ground, fermenting into the grass all around you.
And
yes, kids like it too. Mostly because they could climb the trees, which, fair
play kids, I would too if I wasn’t clearly way past the age where apple picking
is still socially acceptable, let alone tree climbing.
There is also nothing like coming home to an apartment
warmed by a slightly busted radiator, standing in the kitchen in your fall sweater and socks peeling apples
for a pie or slicing them for a Panini like this.
I’m not standing next to a slightly busted radiator. Nor am
I wrapped up in a fall sweater. I did not pick these apples—not this time
anyway. I’m in my sun-warmed kitchen in the middle of a warm California October
wearing my torn off denim shorts.
But, it’s okay folks. It doesn’t matter where you are. This
Panini will still taste darn delicious.
Apple and Sharp
Cheddar Paninis
Serves 2
1 apple (I used a granny smith green apple), cored and
sliced
3-4 ounces sharp cheddar, shredded
4 thick-cut slices of good bread
butter
Butter the outsides of each slice of bread. Assemble sandwiches—lay
shredded cheddar on the unbuttered side, then layer the apple on top. Close sandwich
so that both buttered sides face out.
Place in a Panini maker or in a nonstick pan over medium
heat. Cook for 3-4 minutes on each side or until cheese is melted and bread is
golden in color. Serve immediately.