Ha. Hahahahaha. Oh, the Universe, it does enjoy poking me in the ribs on occasion.
So after all of my boohoo-ing, and resignation about the Children’s Lit book group, I finally post about what I wish and want and half-assedly cobble together an online substitute and… and what? The very next day (I’m not even kidding) my top pick of the brunchey book groups I’d found online emails me back to say that given my taste in books (generally everything, but with preference for sci-fi/fantasy), I probably wouldn’t enjoy the group they’d formed, but as she herself loves children’s literature (and is involved in all kinds of kids-based literacy volunteering!), she would love to be part of a children’s lit book club if I were still into it.
So I’m not really sure what I’m going to do now. Phantom Tollbooth is still on for December, since I think it would be wiser to wait till January for the in-person one, but maybe I could combine the two? Or just get the best of both worlds, separately? For now I wrote her back, and come January, we’ll see what happens, I guess.
In other news, I have to tell you about my rediscovery of apple sauce.
I’d used it a couple times in baked goods, but usually a sort of last minute “Crap, I need a jar” ingredient, thus necessitating commercial applesauce (organic though it may claim to be). Frankly, I always thought it tasted like mush. Cold mush.
I always felt, however, that I wasn’t really giving it a chance, so this fall, sometime after my dad’s visit, I made my own. I used Elise’s recipe, more or less, and I have to tell you: it’s the best damn applesauce I’ve ever had, ever. I’d read somewhere that the best way to ensure a good flavour in applesauce is to use a mix of apples, so I did! I had Honeycrisp, Gala, organic Ambrosia (thanks dad!) and one enormous Cortland, altogether around 4 lbs of apples.
I’d been eyeballing the quantity while mashing the apples, and figured I’d fill four half-pint jars, with maybe a bit left over for snacking. I was wrong. There was an emergency pint jar called in at the end, and sadly only two spoonfuls left after that, but oh, so delicious.
I cracked the first half-pint open while The Boy’s folks were in town and his mom and I devoured the whole thing at a ludicrous speed.
I regret nothing.