October and apples!

Well, I've been at my The Seasons of America Past book again, by Eric Sloane, and as usual, his information is making me think. Thank you SB, for the sweet apple butter to come.
October is apple season. Really, we have apple varieties that ripen even in the summer, but many of the best fruits become ripe now. And, fruits that ripen in the sun on the branch or the bush are different than the fruits picked before ripe, so when they are transported to store or stand they look their best- most purchasable, free of bruises, mushiness, and often, taste. Indeed, accumulation of nitrates, the toxic form of nitrogen that causes methemoglobinemia(a condition which means your hemoglobin cannot carry oxygen to your cells) in mammals (including persons), diminishes as a fruit ripens naturally. Nitrates also cause the "detinning" of the insides of cans, something Americans are becoming more aware of recently. But the benefits of picking naturally ripened fruits have been known for centuries, and only recently discarded by commerce.

"Fruit gathered too timely wil taste of the wood
Will shrink and be bitter, and seldome proove good."
-Thomas Tusser, 1500's

In early America, October would mean time for apple cider and apple butter. These were common staples of the diet. Cider was a year round drink, and because it wasn't pasteurized, was a fermented, alcoholic drink. Apple butter, being sweet and filling, charmed anyone with a biscuit.
But, apples were not the only creators of cider. "Perry" was a common enough drink, cider of pears. And anyone who has answered the inquiry "How are you?" with "Peachy." May not know the origin of this positivity is the cider made with peaches of the same name. Peachy was known for it's delicate flavor and ripe sweetness- the champagne of America.
Here in Middle America, outside TBC, the delights of homemade cider and applebutter are not completely forgotten. Not far from here, a water tower town has an Apple Butter Festival, where folks take turns stirring the large iron vats of apple butter, as it has to be turned for about 8 hours for perfect butter. I, myself, make our apple butter in the crock pot. Not traditional, but certainly more practical today, where our family rarely does anything continuously for 8 hours beyond sleep.

Making apple butter in the labor intensive, most delicious way!

Now let's talk cheese for a minute. Apple cheese. The most important step to cider is the milling. This is the process of taking the apples and chopping and mashing them up, causing bruising and the sugars to be released more effectively than just pressing an apple. Pressing an apple creates juice. Mashing an apple into "cheese" and then pressing it creates cider.

This is a picture, from the internet, not from my secret apple cider farm, of a single grindstone mill for making apple cheese.

The cheese is then taken and layered, traditionally with rye straw, but now often with burlap and put into a press. There are small presses in the backyards of Ohio now, but at one time there were huge ones! Completely made of wood, even after metals became readily available, because it was said metal would spoil the flavor of the cider, the mills dwarfed the men it took to run them. Ruins can still be seen, if you know at what you are gazing. Large, 2' square beams, often with a roof over them for rain protection and added weight with enormous wooden screws on each side would house the press and the farmer would turn the fulcrum for the screw, lowering the weight down on the press with the layered apple cheese inside and out would come a flow of rich, orangey brown cider.

This shows the layering of the apple cheese on a small version of a single screw press.

This is a small double screw press. Small enough to be in a barn- thus still in great shape. Behind it you can see the  grindstone mill for the apples to be mashed into cheese.

And cider, although purchasable in the market as a seasonal treat, like eggnog, is still made in backyard cider presses. I think they have to keep it hushhush, as today legislators in their great wisdom have ordained it illegal for a family to drink the milk from their own cow.  (I sigh, shake my head and now will have to deny milking our sheep.) But, I know a little shed, beside a small orchard out on a backroad, where I can go inside, gather a few gallons of real cider and put my dollars under a rock on the table. Prohibition has come again, just now to homemade cider and sweetmilk. Can you imagine how the good wives of the early 20th century would gape if you told them 100 proof alcohol is legal, but milk and cider from their own hand is not? Someone, somewhere, is having a good laugh at us and feeling just "peachy".