It seems hard to believe that I have been on the East Coast for going on four years, with over one third of that time in New England, yet I had never gone apple picking. It just seemed almost too quaint for me; I buy my apples from the farmer’s market or the grocery store, thank you very much! Well, I will admit when I am wrong. I went to pick apples, and I loved it!

Over the weekend, I went with some friends to an orchard in Glastonbury, CT, not knowing what to expect. Would I have to climb ladders to pick some measly apples; what would the varieties be; and just how large was an apple orchard anyway? All of my questions were answered– and apple picking did not disappoint! Rows of trees were so heavy with fruit, the branches were bending to the ground, simply begging you to pluck an apple from the tree. Varieties that I have never heard of, ones for baking, others for sauce, and more still, for eating out of hand, each more tempting and delicious than the other. And the orchard was acres and acres of apples and pears, some not even ready to be picked. But it made no difference, there was more than enough to choose from. Each apple tasted more apple-y than any apple I have eaten before; they were fragrant, crisp, tart, and scrumptious.

I picked and picked, grabbing an apple off of a tree, and crunching away as I walked through the grounds. I must have eaten at least four apples that day alone, not to mention some hot-from-the-oil apple fritters and an ethereal apple cider donut. I went home with over 12 pounds of apples and pears, and have already canned a batch of brandied apple rings, and I have plans for cranberry-apple butter. Now I can say with confidence– bring on the apples.