Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Autumn Apple Picking

Sunday we went to the Fête aux Pommes, apple festival in a cute little town called Steinsel.

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I mean, what better way to spend a Sunday afternoon in the fall?
Although in Europe, you must call it autumn, because no one knows what you’re talking about when you call it fall.

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Anyway, the orchard sits way high on a hill and has over 25,000 apple trees in lots of varieties and you bring your own bags and fill ‘em to your heart’s content.  All while sipping on Viz, which is the Luxembourgish word for a fermented apple cider.

We went with two other families – our group included six adults, five children (all nearly six years old) and one baby.  It’s possible that we were the loudest and rowdiest apple pickers there.

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Last year at the Fête aux Pommes I was pregnant with Finley and, well, I just couldn’t with the Viz.

This year I actually drank some and I understand now what all the fuss is about.  It’s good stuff.
And after careful inspection of the Viz-making-hand-crank-machine, the process didn’t alarm me as it did last year.

“There’s definitely a filter of some sort, but it doesn’t appear to be a man’s t-shirt,” my friend told me.
Only she didn’t say man’s t-shirt, she said man’s vest, because she’s British and that’s what they call them. 
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We also didn’t see anyone pick up the sopping wet vest off of the ground, wring it out with his bare hands and return it to the Viz-making-hand-crank-machine.  
(I’m telling myself that the buckets collecting the Viz were thoroughly washed, sanitized and perhaps even cycled through an autoclave before being used to catch the juice.)

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We left with 6.1 kilos of apples.  That’s over 13 pounds. 
Not to worry; none of these beauties will go to waste.
I’ve got plans for apple sauce, apple pies and lots of apple puree for Finley.

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Europeans sure love their festivals and since we’ve lived here, we’ve come to love them as well.
Next weekend?  One of the most anticipated fêtes of all: The Vianden Nut Festival.
I’m not kidding.
It’s always a cracking good time. 
(Sorry.)

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