You wouldn't think an apple was such a big deal.
But after a summer in England, where we couldn't find an apple to our taste, it's profoundly pleasurable to eat a cold, crisp, sweet apple.
The English have apples, of course. But they don't seem that into the apple phenomenon, except in pie. And since they're allergic to cinnamon and sugar (or something, I dunno), apple pie in Britain is a tart, vegetable treat rather than the sugary, spicy, buttery dessert it can be here.
As for fresh apples, well...it wasn't the right season. Maybe that's why they seemed sort of sad. It could also be latitude. The apples in Maine weren't great, either.
We returned to the land of importation and immediately purchased a nice, plastic bag full of large Fujis. They're pure white inside, dripping with juice, and sweet as can be. Delish. Even the dogs love them, waiting (and in Boris's case, drooling) for me to finish so they can chomp on the cores.
So: point one for Kentucky. Apples.
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