I grew up just south of the border with Washington. I thought I knew apples.
I was wrong.
Midwesterners know apples. In fact, O My Family knows apples. Apple pie, that is.
When O My Family does apple pie (as with most things) they don’t mess around. They are all out, 15 people’s hands on deck, assembly line where everyone knows their job, mass scale production apple pie makers.
They buy bulk food items the likes of which I’d never seen. You’d think they were preparing for the apocalypse 2012, but no, they’re just making apple pies. 52 apple pies to be exact.
And I wasn’t kidding about the all hands on deck and everyone having a job on the assembly line.
There are apples to be peeled and cored.
Spices to be mixed
Pie tops to be fluted
Dough to be mixed and separated
Even babywearing mommy bloggers are given important jobs. Don’t ever tell me you can’t make 52 pies in 2 hours while wearing your baby. I am living proof. (Well, me and one or two or fourteen others.)
There was so much fun going on, so many jobs and people to watch, OBaby was over-joyed (before getting overwhelmed and needing a nap). I know that in two short years he will be dying to ‘help’ this grand production.
And what a tasty production it is.
A for Allison. Or maybe it was for apple. I’m not sure.
This is a you capture post hosted by Beth of I Should Be Folding Laundry (who I am so excited to meet at CUPCAKE ’10).