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One bad apple:

I went to the grocery yesterday, as I usually do on a Saturday, and bought a bunch of fruit, since that tends to constitute a lot of the lunch and snacks I bring to work. I bought 6 Braeburn apples, because they’re my favorite, and I have almost never gotten a nasty one, which is more than I can say for Galas (and I consider Red Delicious and Golden Delicious to be terrible lies…more like Red and Yellow mealy and flavorless). I usually stick with Braeburns and Granny Smiths, ’cause they’re usually crisp, juicy, and flavorful. Unfortunately, yesterday I got my first batch of crummy Braeburns.

You know, when you’re buying apples, you kind of heft ’em, and squeeze them a little, to see if they feel light (mealy, dry) or mushy (bruised). Well, the apples passed the tactile tests, and smelled sufficiently appley, but when I went to eat one this morning, it was just plain dreadful…pasty, barely sweet, and bland.

Therefore I cut off the bitten spot, cut it into slices, cut away the seed-core, and chopped it into bits, along with the other five apples, made a big pot of applesauce, and am now baking applesauce/oatmeal muffins. The house smells gratifyingly fruity and cinnamony.

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