A is for Applesauce

I tried a multitude of internet searches for some inspiration for an interesting dish to start off the alphabet.  The top three results?  Apple pie, apricot bars, and avocado guacamole.  All three seemed too ordinary and common, and besides, I’d already made the first two.  But then, there it was—applesauce.  It took me a minute, but I realized that in all of my life, I have never eaten homemade applesauce.  Don’t get me wrong, I loved Mott’s cinnamon sugar applesauce growing up as a kid, but maybe it really wasn’t all that much harder to make it from scratch instead of just peeling back the foil on a plastic cup.

After smelling cinnamon mixed with apples cooking in a Dutch oven for half an hour, I was itching to try the applesauce.  I impatiently mashed the apples with a fork, making a mental note to either buy a potato masher for the next time or befriend somebody who wouldn’t miss theirs when I permanently borrowed it.  When it was finally the right consistency and I could take a proper taste, I licked the bowl clean and said good-bye to Mott’s forever.

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