The Olive One, The Yellow One, The Lollygagging One and I headed out one fine Sunday afternoon into the eastern Iowa countryside. After a ten minute drive north, the Garmin requested we turn right. Onto Dingleberry Road.
This is why you don't let your 15 year-old son name anything. Ever.
Upon arrival we were greeted by a beautiful view of rolling hills filled with apple trees. And the smell of apple cider donuts. And screaming children. After grabbing some apple baskets, we headed off to the area of the orchard we were told would be filled with delicious, juicy apples. Not so much. But at least it was away from the screaming children. And looked like this.
So the actual picking of apples was kind of a bust. But that didn't stop us from enjoying a fine fall afternoon.
In search of apples.
Olive fakes a photo op.
Pink pretends to pick a sour apple.
After giving up on finding edible apples we headed back to the farmhouse. There we bought some pre-picked apples so we could at least make some apple-based treats. We also picked up some apple butter, a caramel apple, and a bag of apple cider donuts.
I don't know how these made it to the morning.
So we took our goodies home and started making apple pie and apple crisp. And by we I mostly mean Yellow. She shared the secret to her easy pastry crust here. But here are some photos of the process.
Stabby stabby! - Yellow
She has too many apples in her pie, if you know what I mean.
Om nom nom nom.
Over all, a wonderful Sunday afternoon away from the books. Plus, now The Guv'nah smells like Christmas!
- The Pink One