…you know you’ve done something right.
I wound down an intense weekend of drawing lessons and inaugural house-hunting in Oakland by washing and chopping four pounds of apples on Sunday night. I had everything on-hand that was needed to make homemade applesauce, something that always makes me feel very big-kid (even when all a recipe calls for is apples, sugar, water, lemon, cinnamon, and a little salt).
30 minutes of simmering later, tada — applesauce!
It was a little tart so I decided to add a little more sugar. Ok, a lot more sugar. Lesson learned: follow the instructions unless you want applesauce that tastes like apple pie filling (which, in all honesty, I do). I also left the skin on for the sake of being lazy and it ended up looking and tasting a bit like rhubarb. Being rewarded for shortcuts? My favorite!
Sharing little jars of my applesauce today with the woman who brought me the apples, my mom, and friend Michelle made my day. This makes me feel big-kid in the bad way… hyper-domestic and slightly lame. But I’m giving myself over to it. My apron is downright adorable and I don’t care who knows it. There, I said it!