| General Non-Fiction posted February 7, 2017 |
  |
a short story
I am McIntosh
by judester
I am McIntosh. A little saucy and I make great pie. Warm me up with a sprinkle of cinnamon butter and I am golden. That first nibble beneath the shade of my leaves is a beloved summer ritual.
I play nice with other apples, though Granny Smith can be a bit of a grouch and Gala is such a diva.
The Queen of fruity, chilled cider. Delicious on a cool afternoon, as I mingle with friends beneath explosive autumn foliage.
Seriously though, my name really is McIntosh.
What kind of apple are you? contest entry
I am McIntosh. A little saucy and I make great pie. Warm me up with a sprinkle of cinnamon butter and I am golden. That first nibble beneath the shade of my leaves is a beloved summer ritual.
I play nice with other apples, though Granny Smith can be a bit of a grouch and Gala is such a diva.
The Queen of fruity, chilled cider. Delicious on a cool afternoon, as I mingle with friends beneath explosive autumn foliage.
Seriously though, my name really is McIntosh.
I play nice with other apples, though Granny Smith can be a bit of a grouch and Gala is such a diva.
The Queen of fruity, chilled cider. Delicious on a cool afternoon, as I mingle with friends beneath explosive autumn foliage.
Seriously though, my name really is McIntosh.
McIntosh apples truly are my favorite. There are many heritage apple trees in Vermont growing wild. In autumn My friend Sue and I drive around collecting apples (my secret stash) and spend the afternoon on her farmhouse porch making juice and cider with an antique cider press. Such delicious fun.
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