At the farmer’s market, there was an older gentleman selling July apples and green peppers off of the back of his pickup truck. The apples were small, spotted, and some of them were bad, but I bought all 3 baskets full.
We recently ran out of the applesauce we made last fall, and I have been missing the tasty goodness of it. My grandmother, who died 7 years ago, made tons of applesauce every year. She would bring it to every family gathering.
It was pink, and so delicious that when she would give us a bag of it, my mother would ration it out carefully so one of the six of us kids wouldn’t get more than our share.
My grandfather, of course, shared the work with her, but somehow it became known as Nana’s Applesauce.
The same night of the farmer’s market, I got word that my grandfather had passed away. After living to 90 and still driving and visiting up until a few months ago, he took a turn for the worse, and his bad heart had had enough.
It felt very fitting to be making applesauce the day after his death. Caleb and I working as a team to make something delicious.
Since they were July apples, they weren’t red, so the resulting sauce wasn’t pink, but it’s still Nana’s applesauce.