Foodie Girls Lunch Brigade - Special Apple Cider and Doughnuts Edition

Let's be clear. My sister and I are not twins, and we were not separated at birth.  Therefore, it is not possible for us to conclusively determine whether it is nature or nurture that makes us do eerily similar things all the time.

But we did both go to Julian every year when we were kids.
I'm just sayin'.

Cider Mill Wars
A guest post from my sister (aka FG4)

It doesn’t feel like “fall” until you’ve been to a cider mill…

We are back in Michigan for the weekend, and next to bringing home our new family kitten, visiting a cider mill was at the top of our list for the trip.  We’ve made going to the local area cider mills such a seasonal family tradition, that it hadn’t quite felt like fall…until today.

Me:  “Hey Amanda, are you willing to do a little research for your aunt?”
Amanda: “Sure, I’ll do anything for her.”
Me:  “We could help her out with her blog and go sample donuts from the cider mills we like.”
Amanda: “Sure, no problem…if you think it will help her, I’m willing to do it.”
Me:  “How about we try for three in a day?”
Amanda: “Really?!”
Me:  “Yep!  Just be really hungry for donuts.”
Amanda: “I’d do anything for my aunt!”*

Three competitors: Franklin Cider Mill; Parmenter’s Cider Mill; Erwin’s Cider Mill
The challenge: best donuts and best apple cider
The judges:  Me and Amanda (we are a pretty tough pair to please!)

First up: Franklin Cider Mill  

This is a historic mill nestled in a Bloomfield Hills neighborhood.  They boast quite a selection of homemade jams, jellies, sauces, salsas, and every kind of fruit butter you can think of (e.g. apple butter, pear butter, cherry butter, pumpkin butter, apricot butter, etc.).  When you first enter the building, you see the press used to make the apple cider, and tables of fresh baked pies, cookies, and breads.  We ordered cider and donuts only (although they have a selection ranging from hot cider to cider slushes and hot dogs to ice cream sundaes).  We were handed a cold container of cider, and a brown bag full of hot, fresh donuts.  We went to the car to do our sampling due to the sheer number of bees that hang out here.  Bees love apple cider, so this problem is not unique to Franklin Cider Mill.

It had been a mystery how they produce these bags of hot donuts while at the registers with no bakery in sight.  Then, as I was paying, I spotted it – a donut dumbwaiter!  Not kidding!!!  Apparently the bakery is below the main floor of the mill, and they just crank out the hot donuts and lift them to the main floor to be sold hot.  Genius!

Cider:  Today’s blend of cider was pleasantly tart with a deep, rich flavor and a solid finish.  Two thumbs up from the judges.


Donuts:  They only offer one type of donut: plain. We noted the all-important grease marks on the paper bag that indicated these donuts had, in fact, just been cooked.  They were warm and not too sweet, slightly crunchy on the outside while light and airy on the inside.  They smush easily since they are hot out of the fryer, and after they cooled, they weren’t quite as tasty…except for Maya the dog, who really liked these donuts, hot or cold.

Bonus points:  The “corn truck” that had just pulled up as we were leaving.  Fresh picked corn that morning and a large portable grill meant one tasty (and more healthy) snack was in store for people coming during the lunch hour.

Next Up:  Parmenter’s Cider Mill  

Family owned and operated since 1873, Parmenter’s Cider Mill is tucked away in a Northville neighborhood and attracts quite a few local artists to set up booths on the property so you can eat and browse.  They have both plain and spice donuts, so we got an assortment of both and made our way to a nearby picnic table.  In an attempt to deal with the bee problem this season, each table had a fly swatter on it.  We still went to the car.

Cider:  Refreshing and cold, also deliciously tart with full body flavor and solid finish.  Both judges approved.

Donuts:  Both plain and spice donuts are room temperature or colder.  They are clearly fresh, but not the same “melt in your mouth” grease delights from the Franklin Cider Mill.  However, what they lack in temperature, they made up for in flavor.  These donuts were soft through and through, with a more cake-like density.  The spice donuts were simply the plain donuts dusted with fine powdered sugar mixed with seasonal spices.  Both Amanda and I preferred the spice donuts to the plain ones, but it was nice to have a choice.

Bonus points:  They also have a winery so while you send your partner for cider and donuts, you can go to the wine bar across the room and have free samples of some decent wine.  They also have a big screen TV mounted on a wall that always has a key sports event on, so the sports fan(s) in the household won’t mind standing in line.  Also, it is a little known perk that you can request “duck donuts” at the counter.  They will give you a free small bag with 3 or 4 donuts that did not meet their quality standards, and you can use them to feed the ducks that take up residence at their on-property stream during the “cider mill season.”  These ducks are so tame they will eat the donuts right out of your hand.

Last up: Erwin Orchards  

The cider mill at Erwin Orchards is only part of a much larger operation.  They have multiple u-pick orchards and contract with an inflatables company to set up a massive array of bouncy everything each weekend.  They also have a petting zoo and haunted barn and corn maze attraction at night.  They were voted best cider mill in the area for a number of years, and wait times can easily pass 45 minutes every weekend.  They open at 6am but I have no idea who needs cider that badly on a Saturday morning.

Cider: Sweet and cold, with a light brown color and smooth finish.  Both judges approved, and we realized then we’d need to do a blind side-by-side taste test to determine a winner.

Donuts:  To avoid the greasy bag issue, your donuts are placed into a carton and then handed over.  They had four donut flavors: plain apple spice, cinnamon apple spice, pumpkin glazed, and pumpkin with icing and sprinkles.  The bakery is behind the registers so you see the donuts first-hand before they go into the boxes.  We went for an assortment, minus the pumpkin with sprinkles.  Our box contained warm, fresh donuts that were slightly crispy on the outside and light and airy on the inside.  They were actually the best of both Franklin Cider Mill (hot and fresh) and Parmenter’s (dusted with tasty spiced sugar, although here it was granular sugar versus the powdered sugar).  They were not too sweet with both the donut and sugar coating nicely spiced.

Bonus points:  The u-pick options are a big hit, and their orchards are great.  You’ll take a tractor-pulled ride to different orchards depending on what kind of apples you want.  Many apple varieties are available to pick, as well as pumpkins and (coming soon) asparagus!  Lots for kids to do while you wait in line (beware the cost for petting zoo and inflatables adds up quickly) and ample parking.

The winners:

Apple cider:  After a head-to-head blind taste test, Parmenter’s cider was the favorite.  It had that nice tartness to it, but had a slightly sweeter, smoother finish than the others.  Franklin Cider Mill was a close second, and Erwin’s Cider Mill was a distant third, with a more bland overall flavor and not the same level of body to the cider itself.

Donuts:  Hands down, Erwin Orchard’s apple spice donuts!

Me:  “Hey Amanda, you did a great job today eating all those donuts.”
Amanda: “I can’t eat another thing, I’m so stuffed.”
Me:  “It was for a good cause.”
Amanda: “Yeah…”

* Right back at ya, sweetie!

What I did with the apples

I put them in a big bowl in the middle of the table.

It was gorgeous. 

It make the kitchen smell wonderful.

It was full to the brim.

For a few minutes.

One by one

The apples disappeared.

Crunch! 

Juice dripping down your chin. 

Cool and crisp like nobody's business.

Crisp.  Hmm.  Now there's an idea...

U Pick

I have certain extraordinarily vivid memories from my childhood.   You probably have them, too.  The ones that are in Technicolor, like the ruby slippers under Dorothy's house.

Like those slippers, the memories are shiny.
Bright.
Glowing.
Precious.
Magical!

So entrancing, in fact, that even years* later, they have the power to immediately transport me into a state of blissful idiocy.  Unable to simply enjoy the flashback, I insist upon incessantly talking about just how fantastic a particular experience was.  There are hand gestures. Dramatic facial expressions.  A raised voice for emphasis on the good parts. Gales of my delighted laughter echoing in an otherwise silent room as my terrified family stares at me in horror.  They exchange glances, knowing what's coming next.

Me:  So, I was thinking we should all...
Them:  NO!
Me:  (genuinely puzzled, because I am under the influence of my ruby slipper memory) But, why?
Them:  Because nobody but you thinks this is a good idea.  Listen to yourself!!! You are talking like a crazy person about something that happened when you were like, 10, or something.  Seriously, you have to stop, Mom.  You're scaring everybody.  Maybe you should go lie down.

The kids leave the room, and I turn helplessly to my husband.  He pats me on the shoulder kindly.

Him:  Remember the Spudnuts?
Me:  Oh, yeah. That was bad.
Him:  And...Julian?
Me:  But I LOVE Julian!!! We...

He holds up a warning finger. I back down. Julian is a sore point in our otherwise rock solid marriage**.

Me: Fine. Never mind.

I return to sanity, and life goes on.

Until this summer. Hanging out making duct tape wallets*** at camp one morning, one of my fellow crafters happens to mention that their family owns an apple orchard.  In Julian.

Me: (dropping my x-acto knife in excitement) But I LOVE Julian!!! Oh my gosh! I can't believe this! What are the odds that you own an orchard and I LOVE orchards!  It's like a sign, or something!  Wow!
Her:  (glancing down at my discarded knife, just to make sure I'm unarmed) Yes. Well.  How about that?  It's a U-Pick, too.
Me:  (tearing up, and pressing her hands in mine).  Really? This is like the best day of my life. You have no idea how much this means to me.  We are coming to your orchard.  Do you hear me?  We are COMING!!!  You will see us in October.  I promise you.
Her:  (carefully withdrawing her hands) Sure! Great. That'd be fine.

I begin plotting.  Clearly, I cannot take my usual approach.  Not only is it deranged, it is ineffective.

I try to guilt them into it.

Me:  So, I'm thinking of driving down to Julian this weekend.  To see that family from camp.  They were really nice.  But nobody else has to come.  I'll go by myself.  It's fine.
Them:  OK.  Have fun.

Damn.  I'm stumped.  Until the soccer schedule comes out, and I see a new path to get what I want.

Bribery.

Me:  Looks like the soccer game's in San Juan Capistrano on Saturday.  What a long drive!  Man, I would hate to violate The Rule.  How about if we just stay down there and relax at a hotel for the night?  I found one with a water slide and flat screen TVs.  We could go to the movies, have some ice cream...maybe even room service! Then, on the way home we could stop by and pick a few apples in Julian.
My husband:  On the way home?
Me:  Well, it's not exactly on the way, but close enough, right****?
My son:  You know, Mom, they have some pretty great apples at Ralph's.  The one by our house.
Me:  Just trust me on this.  It's great!  They have cider, and apple butter, and these adorable little shops...and there's this bakery that we stop at that has these amazing fruit bars and cinnamon bread*****...
My daughter:  Oh my god!  She's doing it again!  Dad!!
My husband:  Let's just go with the flow, guys.  (The hotel had a fitness center and a running route to the beach.  I'm no dummy.)

I was elated as we pulled into the dirt lot of Calico Ranch.  The sun was beaming down from a bright blue sky, and there was a single, shiny, ruby-red apple on the charming sign hanging by the wooden fence.  The kids hopped out of the car, and my husband grinned at me ruefully as I happily slung my camera over my shoulder and headed for the apple trees.

It's true that there's no place like home.
But I do LOVE to visit Julian.

The ranch has over 130 varieties, including heirloom apples not found anywhere else.  You can add to your personal pickings from bins at the stand.  These winesaps were standouts, as was a green apple said to be a favorite of Thomas Jefferson.  Knowing I was on thin ice, I decided against going into the history of Montecello and the former president's interest in horticulture with the kids.

Now that's a ruby slipper memory.

* OK, decades.
** When we were relative newcomers to LA, pre kids, I somehow convinced him to come with me, my mother and her sister and drive to Julian to relive my halcyon childhood days of apple picking in the country.  The four of us were squished into my small VW rabbit convertible.  The traffic was abysmal.  When we finally arrived in Julian, sunburned and parched, we wandered through quaint little shops with figurines, handmade potholders, and quilted slippers.  We went to the town museum and looked at rusted mining equipment and old black and white photos of apple farmers.  We had slices of apple pie.  We stopped at roadside fruit stands and sampled cider from flimsy paper cups and picked up jars of apple butter.  We bought flats of apples that we had no room for in the car.  My mother and I told funny stories about my dad's inept efforts to put up a tent in the dark on a family camping trip nearby (hilariously, he'd left stakes in a bag underneath the tent! Oh, that dad of mine!)  After fighting the traffic back to LA for another three hours, we dropped my mom and my aunt off.  Then, and only then, did my soon-to-be-husband turn to me and say:  "New rule.  If it takes longer to get to a place than you actually spend there, it is OFF THE LIST! I don't care how much you loved it as a kid, it's JUST NOT WORTH IT.  Is that clear?" Let's just say this edict is still very much in effect at our house.  It is known as "The Rule."
*** I know, sounds like a dorky project, but they are actually pretty cool.
**** Cleverly, even if it is a complete detour, I know it doesn't break The Rule because we have spent an entire night away from home, giving me hours of leeway.
***** Dudley's, in Santa Ysabel, just 6 miles away.  Killer bread in general, great homemade sandwiches for lunch, and these molasses fruit bars that would make anybody (except my husband), feel the long car trip was well worth it.

The kids and my husband ate nearly all of this right from the bag on the way home.  If you look closely, you can see the steam from the hot bread.  It had just come out of the oven.

Personally, though, I'd skip that hot cinnamon bread any day for one of these.  Spicy, full of ginger, cloves, and plump raisins, they are the perfect autumn treat.  Especially when you eat one with a fresh, crisp apple.  Heaven!  

Turkey in a blanket

It's October, and even here in sunny Southern California, there's been a nip in the air.  Unfortunately for me, it's more than just the seasonal drop into the low 80s that has me dreaming fondly of fireplaces and hot cocoa.  It's the industrial strength AC in my office at work.  The thing is pumping out arctic air at a pace that goes against every principle of energy conservation I can think of.  I sit at my desk bundled up like the toddler of an overanxious parent on the first snow day, with just my eyes peeking out from under the layers of scarves and sweaters.  On the plus side, we might be able to set up a side business as a meat locker if the company runs low on cash.

When I come home, the rest of the family is in their shorts and t-shirts, sweating and drinking ice water.  I curl up on the couch, shivering uncontrollably.

They look over at me.

My son: Another tough day at the office, Mom?
Me:  Sh-shut up and p-p-p-pass me that b-b-b-blanket.*

The Internet is for...

Out of the mouths of puppets.

This naughty number came from the kitchn, one of those websites I browse all day and night.

And like the guys, with their unzipped flies, I follow my impulses*.
I have-to-bake.

Sorry, Kate.
The Internet is for...food porn!

Ready, normal people?

Leafy green vegetables

After practically OD'ing on dessert recently*,  I went to Trader Joe's and filled up my cart with leafy green vegetables.  For once, I held my head up high at the checkout stand, instead of pointedly avoiding eye contact with the person scanning my piles of cheese, bacon, bread, margarita mix, and ice cream sandwiches**.   I was actually hoping they'd need to do a price check.

"KALE? Can I get a price on kale for this lovely, soon-to-be slender young lady who probably hates cookies?  She's got two bags of it here.  TWO BAGS OF KALE ON THREE!!"

Instead it was a private moment of victory. That was OK. I knew I had bought the kale.

I drove home and considered my kale. The epitome of leafy greenness. Nature's health food, on my counter. The veggie-est of veggies.

So naturally, I turned it into crispy, salty snack chips, and ate an entire bowl while watching TV.

I need help.

Hair of the Dog

According to Wikipedia:

"Hair of the dog" is a colloquial expression in the English language predominantly used to refer to alcohol that is consumed with the aim of lessening the effects of a hangover. The expression originally referred to a method of treatment of a rabid dog bite by placing hair from the dog in the bite wound. The use of the phrase as a metaphor for a hangover treatment dates back to the time of William Shakespeare. Ebenezer Cobham Brewer writes in the Dictionary of Phrase and Fable (1898): "In Scotland it is a popular belief that a few hairs of the dog that bit you applied to the wound will prevent evil consequences. Applied to drinks, it means, if overnight you have indulged too freely, take a glass of the same wine within 24 hours to soothe the nerves. 'If this dog do you bite, soon as out of your bed, take a hair of the tail the next day.'" He also cites two apocryphal poems containing the phrase, one of which is attributed to Aristophanes.


Although not cited, I believe "Hair of the Dog" also applies to the pie that you make with the aim of lessening the effects of making too much pie*.