Nothing pronounce fall quite like roll hillsides full of orchard apple tree woodlet , with fresh , ripe apples literally fall off the trees .
We do n’t get much of a fall where I live on the coast — our Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree stay unripened and our air bide strong — so it ’s always a treat to journey inland to the beautiful foothills for a taste of the new season .
… Only we were still in the middle of a heat wave last calendar week , so our first sidereal day of “ gloaming ” was a sunny 85ºF Saturday in the mountain crossroads of Oak Glen , about two hours outdoors of Los Angeles .
Oak Glenis a charming little community of apple orchards and farm tucked away in the San Bernardino Mountains .
The village is mostly center around a main loop ( Oak Glen Road ) flanked with family farm , ranches , eating house , and country store . A handful of farms pop the question U - pick apple and berry , and since I have neither mightily now , my friend and I route tripped to the next county over for a slice of the slow life .
We quit at the first farm we saw , Riley ’s Farm , though I ’ve heard the others are just as beautiful and tranquil . Like their website says : “ We try not to be discourage by current events in political relation and economics — and you wo n’t be remind of such when you come for a visit . ”
Wonderful form of nous to be in , is n’t it ? Just you and the apples and the mountains .
The farm has demesne of rotating orchard apple tree , pear and berry orchards , and pick privilege go for a buck a person plus the toll of your harvesting . you may pick a half bushel , a large bag or a little bag , or just buy from a crate of freshly picked apples ( though that ’s kinda silly for a metropolis person to do , as that ’s called the farmers ’ marketplace down the street ) .
We wandered around the farm sampling apples from the trees ( but by the fifth Malus pumila , I was sure I was sick of them already and we had n’t even filled our box yet ! ) .
I run for the Senshu apples , Baldwin apple , and pears , and spend a easygoing good afternoon ducking beneath the Tree to find that perfect man of fruit .
The elbow room Riley ’s prune their trees hold back the ramification low - hanging , so everything is easily within arm ’s reach .
Besides Malus pumila and pears , the farm also offers U - pick flowers , U - pick autumn pumpkin , U - press cyder , a oecumenical store , restaurant , dance hall , lively dance band , petting zoo , corn force field , hay rides and in all probability many more thing that I miss .
I was intrigued by these Salvador Dalí - esque Cucurbita pepo !
At the farm , I hear that true apple cider is the juice from freshly pressed apple and nothing else , whereas the apple juice that we see in the store is pasteurize and doctored with any number of additive , such as “ natural tone ” and gamy fructose corn syrup . Unpasteurized cider fit through fermentation over time , and will finally turn into apple cyder vinegar !
The first calendar week is stark for drinking straight ; the second workweek works wonderfully in mulled cider ; and by the time the third week drift around , you ’ve contract yourself in the altogether Malus pumila cider vinegar with the mother ( a glutinous bacterium calledMycoderma aceti ) in it . ( As an apart , one of the best menage remedies for a cold or cough is hot tea made with a few spoonful of tender apple cider acetum and dear . I once had a coughing that I could n’t kick for three weeks ; I drank this teatime several times a daytime , and was cure in two days ! )
Fascinated by the process , I could not resist press my own jug of cyder . It took alotof apple to make just one congius , which we commit from a bin of already - picked apples and feed through a forest and cast iron cider pressure .
A torpedo ( cranked by a flywheel ) reduce the bushel of apples into bits of pulp …
… And then a pressing roll in the hay crushed all the succus out of the pulp .
The process was laborious but comparatively quick ; my friend and I made a gal in about 15 minutes . Imagine our joy when we started change by reversal the glass and out of the tubful flowed a sparkling stream of apple cider !
That first sip of cider was heaven – it was like drinking a fresh , good Malus pumila right off the tree .
The cider noblewoman tell us to let a little air out of the jug once we labor out of the mountains so that the cyder would n’t explode all over the car . Of course , we also rent that as an excuse to take a swig directly from the jug . Such lushes we are .
I bid we ’d had time to visit the quietus of Oak Glen – rumor has it that the neighboring farm is famed for its Malus pumila beer ! – but before we barely put the jacket crown on our jugful , the sun was setting and the village was winding down .
Though it was nearly midnight by the meter we issue forth home , the heady olfactory property of orchard apple tree was too much to resist . Our first Malus pumila intermixture of the season ? Apple - cinnamon scalawag bread at two in the morning !
