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Apple Butter
by Travln
Karen wasn't sure if it was the strong winds scraping the oak branches on
the gutter, the driving rain hitting her windows, the thunder and
lightening, or her Jack Russell Terrier diving under her covers that had
jolted her awake. She just knew that she hadn't planned on getting up this
early on the only Saturday morning she had managed to get off since tax
season started.
"Well crap, Corky, there goes our day," she muttered as she slipped her
feet into her house shoes and wrapped her housecoat around her. It was cold.
As she walked over to shut the bedroom window someone started beating on her
back door.
Corky took off, running and barking. Karen could hear him jumping at the
back door and growling.
"Shut up, Corky!" Karen yelled,, wondering who would be pounding so hard on
her door. She looked out the front window but there wasn't a car on the
driveway.
"Corky, shut up!" she scolded.
"Who's there?" she called through the closed door.
"Karen! Let me in! I'm freezing!" Leslie yelled, just as another clap of
thunder and flash of lightening danced through the oak tree in the front
yard.
Karen opened the door quickly and Leslie jumped inside soaking wet.
"Leslie what are you doing here so early?" Karen asked.
"I'm afraid of these kind of storms, Karen."
"How did you get that wet coming from your car to the carport?"
"I didn't drive. I rode my bike. I was afraid the streets would be flooded
and I'd get stuck out there."
"Leslie, you rode a bike five blocks in this storm?"
"Do you have another housecoat or something I can put on? I'm freezing!"
"Sure. Hang on." Karen turned to go back to the bedroom to get something
warm and dry for Leslie to wear.
Leslie opened the utility closet behind the back door, took her shoes off
and set them on top of the dryer. By the time Karen and Corky retuned to the
kitchen, Leslie had taken off all of her clothes and had them drying in the
dryer.
"Leslie," Karen said "I have a bathroom you could have used to get dressed
in."
"I know. I just didn't want to drip all over the house. I've made a mess
here the way it is."
Karen handed Leslie some paper towels, poured two cups of coffee and set
them on the table. Leslie wiped up the puddle on the floor after she had
dressed. Corky chased the movements of Leslie's hand wiping up the linoleum
until she swatted his behind and he dove under the table, peering out
indignantly.
Karen took a sip of her hot coffee, thinking how glad she was to have an
automatic coffee maker. She looked at Leslie and said, "I swear, Leslie!
You're an impetuous exhibitionist. One day you're going to undress at the
wrong time, in the wrong place."
"So I can't streak across the baseball field?" Leslie asked with a grin on
her face.
"You did that last spring," Karen replied shaking her head pensively.
The winds, thunder, and lightening continued outside. Leslie looking
wistfully out of the kitchen window, said "I guess we won't be going to the
beach today."
"It sure doesn't look like it, does it?"
"Pretty cruddy, on our only week end off," Leslie said. She got up and put
bread in the toaster, removed the butter from the refrigerator, set it on
the counter, and poured both of them another cup of coffee.
Leslie reached past Karen and picked up a book sitting on the table that
Karen had started reading the night before.
"What is this about?" she asked.
"It is a story about Casper Scwenfold. He sailed with his Christian
refugees from Silesia, which was ruled by the Austrian Habsburgs, to
Pennsylvania in 1734. It tells about all the hardships they faced."
The toast popped up. Looking in the refrigerator Leslie asked "Karen, where
is your jelly?"
"Uh, there isn't any in the refrigerator?"
"No."
"Well look in the cabinet above the stove then."
"Karen, what are you doing with three, big 50 ounce jars of applesauce in
your cabinet?"
"Oh I'm going to make apple butter some day."
"I don't read many historical novels," Leslie said. "Where is Silesia?"
"Well now, it would be considered the southwestern portion of Poland and
part of the north central Czech Republic. "And you know what?" Karen asked
with a slight grin. "It was partly because of apple butter that they reached
their destination."
"Really?" Leslie questioned "Why?"
"Because apple butter is one of the few fruit products that keeps it flavor
and goodness without refrigeration or preservatives. And that's about all
they had left to eat at the end of their trip. And you know what else?"
Karen asked.
"What?" Leslie said.
"There are still some German Silesia churches left in Pennsylvania that
commemorate their safe voyage and serve a meal of apple butter and bread."
"Well I've got a you-know-what for you," Leslie said.
"You do, huh?"
"Yeah. I know who painted the picture called Apple Butter Time!" Leslie
said.
"Yeah? Karen replied "Who?"
"John H. Gentry. And in it is a wooden framed two-story farmhouse with a
wood fence running behind it, separating the yard from the field of apple
trees. And a lady sitting on her stool stirring a kettle of apple butter
over an open fire in the side yard."
"How do you know that?" Karen asked
"Because it used to hang in my Grandmother's dining room. When I was little
I used to stand and pretend I was one of the little kids in that picture,
playing on the red fire truck."
Karen got up and cleared the dirty dishes from the table, placing them in
the sink. She brought the coffeepot back with her, poured them another cup
of coffee and sat down.
"When I was little, I used to go to my Grandmother's with my mother and my
brother, Tom, in the fall to pick apples," Karen said. "Tom and I got to
ride in the back of the wagon to take the apples to the neighbor's farm so
he could run them through his steam powered apple cider press to get juice.
Then the next day, Mother and Grandmother would peel more apples and cook
them in a copper pot on a wood burning stove. While they took turns stirring
the apple puree they were cooking for apple butter I would pump the wash tub
full of water and Tom would gather the wood to make the fire to heat the
water to wash the canning jars in."
"So that's how you learned to make apple butter?" Leslie asked.
"Actually, Leslie, I started out making apple butter from an Amish recipe a
neighbor gave me and it was baked in the oven for three hours."
Leslie had picked up her coffee cup and went to the sink and started
running hot water to wash dishes. She set the three jars of applesauce out
on the counter and reached under the stove to get a big pan.
"What are you doing?" Karen asked
"We're making apple butter," Leslie said "I've never made apple butter
before."
"Well," said Karen, "the first thing you don't need is that big pan."
"Why?"
"Because," Karen grinned. "I use my crock-pot."
"Really? Where is your crock-pot then?"
Karen put her pan back in the cabinet and reached into the cart under her
microwave and placed her crock-pot on the counter. Leslie opened the
applesauce and promptly poured it all in the pot, filling it nearly to the brim.
"Now what?"
"It takes a gallon of applesauce. You should have about three cups of it
left after you measure it out into the crock-pot."
"Well, I don't," Leslie said as she scraped the jars clean with a spoon.
"You don't?"
"No, I poured it all in. I'll take some out."
"No, leave it! Nothing is hurt at all." She handed Leslie a bag of brown
sugar.
"Measure this," she grinned.
"How much?"
"Three cups," handing her a one cup measuring cup.
"Ok!"
Karen added 2 tablespoons of cinnamon, 1/4 cup of apple cider vinegar, and a handful of red hots.
"What are those?" Leslie asked.
"You've never had red hots? They're cinnamon candies. Here, try some."
Leslie popped some of the candies in her mouth and opened the drawer to get
a big spoon.
Karen took the metal spoon from her and took out a flat wooden spoon
instead. She stirred the applesauce and seasonings together, being sure to
clean the top edge of the crock-pot where Leslie had spilled some of the
applesauce. She placed the wooden spoon across the top of the crock-pot and
balanced the glass lid carefully on it.
"Why did you do that?" Leslie asked.
"Because as the apple butter gets hot and cooks down, it sometimes pops a
bubble of the hot applesauce on the counter."
"Why don't you just put the lid on it then?"
"Because the steam won't escape if you do."
Karen set the crock-pot on high heat and said, "That's it!"
"That's it?" Leslie asked. "When will it be apple butter?"
"It needs to be stirred once in a while and cook for 12 hours, Leslie."
Karen said.
"Oh, and then what do you do?"
"Well, then," Karen said looking at the clock "I'll put four-pint jars,
seals and rings in hot water until they get hot. Then fill the jars with the
hot apple butter. Put the seals and the rings on the jars and let them cool
on the counter."
"That will be ten o'clock tonight, Karen."
"That's ok," Karen said, "It's not hard to do."
The buzzer rang on the dryer, and Leslie went to get her clothes. Corky
decided since it had quit raining he would go run in the yard for a little
while and Leslie let him out while she was there at the back door. The wind
was still blowing fiercely and he did not stay out long. Karen let him back
in as Leslie took her clothes to Karen's bedroom, to dress.
When she appeared again in the kitchen, said, "I have to run, but don't
forget I want a jar of that apple butter tomorrow!"
©2001 Travln
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