Recently I watched as a new friend (we’d just been introduced by a mutual friend), typed in www.sallybuffington.com for the first time—and there were the familiar apples, in the upper left hand corner of the home page. “That’s it!” I said as I saw my name, logo, and the apples, upside down from across the restaurant table. “Now, how do I find your blog?” she said. So I sent her to the Blog tab.

But more than one ‘first” was going on. Never before had I watched anyone access me online, whether via tablet, smartphone, or computer. I know from comments on my blog posts, which I love to read and respond to, that people are reading me, but to see someone meet me this way for the first time was something else again.

I was seeing myself through someone else’s eyes, spotlighted, even, you might say, spot-screened. Of course, this set me thinking, but perhaps not in quite the way you’d expect.
A first impression, and what does she see?. . . Apples. . . Hmmn.

I took that photo five years ago. . . Visiting my daughter in Wisconsin, I’d been working at the kitchen sink when I stopped. I had to take out my camera. . . Oh, those apples! The neat line of red skin next to white flesh, the sculptural shapes. . . and in the light from the kitchen window, juice glistening on the surface of each quarter. . . Those clean cuts. . .

But still, beyond a charming memory, why should apples introduce me? Do they offer some clue to me, some sort of keynote? After all, not all my writing is about food, either . . .

I’ve always thought of apples as elemental, basic. Classic, even. Thus, to use my father’s old expression, I hope the image conveys that I look for, and offer, “the straight goods.”
How I understand the world or at least my own particular part of it. Some down to earth truth, anyway, as befits a fruit with such New England connotations. Often I write to try and understand something for myself . . . maybe that sense comes across to others? I hope so.

And apples, these real, everyday fruits are rich indeed. At the very thought of them, all sorts of memories, ideas, and tastes spring up. . . They’s something ordinary . . . and full of possibilities.

I can’t remember when I first tasted an apple; they were always just there. Probably I was spoon-fed strained applesauce as a baby. From childhood I remember yet more applesauce, apple pies, of course, turnovers, apple crisp — and always a fresh apple as a snack. I always found an apple at the bottom of my Christmas stocking, along with an orange. Pretty much every day, my mother cooked with apples, serving such things as Waldorf salads, apple sauce with pork chops, or baked apples for dessert. As an adult, I’ve ordered Tarte Tatin in a restaurant or salivated over recipes for it, also Apple Charlotte (that lovely name!) in Julia Child cookbooks.

How do I like apples now? Here are some ways. May they “taste” delicious to you too, and stir your memories, visions, and tongues. And thank you for reading, and the chance to meet you online. Please share your thoughts and memories with me.
And, oh, yes, please pass my writing along (or the link) along to a friend of yours –let’s widen the circle!

Applesauce Cake

Preheat Oven to 350

½ c. butter, softened
¾ c. sugar (white or brown)
1 t. cinnamon
½ t. nutmeg
¼ t. cloves
zest of 1 orange or lemon

1 egg

1 c. applesauce (homemade or from a jar)

2 c. flour
1 t. soda
½ t. salt
½ t. baking powder

1 c. fruit, stirred with small amount of flour (raisins, currants, dried apricots, or glaceed fruits or nuts. I use golden raisins for everyday, or a combination of fruits and nuts for Christmas baking.)

Combine butter, sugar, spices, citrus zest, and salt; cream these together. Stir in egg. Then add applesauce to the mixture alternately with pre-mixed dry ingredients. Fold in pre-floured chopped fruits. Bake in greased loaf pans 50 -55 min., or 45 min. for small pans.

Brandenburg Concerto

Oh, Master Johann,
come on in the kitchen
and sit down!
I’m listening to your music
as I peel and quarter apples
whose sections
rock and tumble
on the cutting board.
You keep on pouring notes in
from horns and trumpet and wind.

Sliced and scored,
the apples thump into my pan.
As your flutes start trilling,
I stir in sugar
and you add
cinnamon sticks —
bassoons!
I lower the heat
and taste for seasoning
while you blend violas in —
oh, and a smidge more bass.

From common things
I’ve made a harmony of tastes
and so have you:
a feast of music
composed of air and notes and strings.

Let’s sit together
and celebrate!
Now I’ll serve you—

Applesauce!