There is, in my Not humble opinion, few things more lovely on a cool, August day than ferreting out the first dropped apple and eating it. This may be because we have a wonderful old style McIntosh. It has small little apples, barely bigger than a crabapple, unsprayed, unreachable, and incredibly crisp and sweet. But not too sweet, no toothache. No mealiness either. Of course, given the bugs, and the odd shapes, and the bruises, one can only get a few bites per apple. But, that almost makes them better…
(and no, I don’t wash them, or peel them, or cut them!)
I have an apple orchard with three hundred trees that are never sprayed. The first apple of the season is always special.
Karen,
I also like stumbling across old apples and their offspring in the woods and old fields. Some are impossibly bitter, but there are others that are far better than anything sold in the store!
Usually the bitter apples are heritage apples that were grown specifically for making cider. 🙂