There were many apple pies this summer, but only one pie from the abbey orchard. Though the five-year-old trees produced a respectable quantity of apples this year, the squirrels got them before we did. At present, the squirrels are stealing the figs.
Grocery store apples, as far as I’m concerned, are useless for pies. I like ugly, old-fashioned apples. Ken noticed an apple tree in someone’s yard about a mile up the road and was bold enough to ask if we could buy some apples. They gave them to us, of course. It was an old tree that had gone feral, and the apples were sublimely ugly. We got four pies out of those very local apples.
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