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Thursday, November 27, 2003

apples (I never said I was normal)

Here's one for my I Am A Goofball file: Before eating an apple, I still twist the stem while saying the alphabet, and I still "fix" it so that the stem comes off on the initial of the person I want it to "fall" off on. Even though I've been married to that person since before any of the little girls who carry on this tradition with their elementary-school lunch apples were fully potty-trained.


I have discovered a new favorite apple. I have never, let it be noted, had a favorite apple before, but I am borderline obsessed with these Southern Rose apples which my local grocery has started carrying off and on (just "off" enough to make me go crazy buying pounds of them when they're "on" for fear I'll never see one again. Brilliant tactic, not necessarily to be expected from a wannabe supermarket like ours, whose marketing expertise in the past only extended to covering the past-date dates on the meat with sale stickers. They must have hired someone new). They are as crunchy as Granny Smiths, without the creepy, skreeky teeth-vs-peel conflict that I despise about Granny Smiths; they're just tart enough and just sweet enough and altogether lovely. mmmm. A bowl of apples and a red sweater do more to make it seem like fall than anything else around here.

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