It has come to my attention that some of you have no idea what apple butter is. God. I cannot imagine a life like that. Seriously. How...dismal.
Yet another reason I give thanks to a benevolent God daily that in His infinite wisdom He saw fit to love me enough to have made me, and bless me enough to keep me, a rural Southerner.
I remember helping my grandmother make it the old way...in a brass kettle over an open fire. It took all day just to cook it down, not including the time it took to prep the apples. Now people make it
this way in crock pots and such. I make it that way now too. It's good, but not anything near as good as the old method made it. Then again, what ever is? Still, crock pot apple butter is far superior to the thought of life with no apple butter. I can't fathom it. If made right, you can put a spoonful on your forehead, and your tongue will beat your brains out trying to get to it.
Thankfully, mom had canned a few pints this winter, so we can replace some of what burned up in the fire.
This fall, when the good apples come in, it'll be a high priority to get several pints made and canned. If it's any good, I might be persuaded to ship a few so the rest of y'all can live fuller lives for the experience of having tasted apple butter.