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Kicking off the fall with apple picking

Today was the first day in my 19 years on this lovely planet that I went apple picking, and I cannot express how much I now regret that. Despite the fact that I consider myself an avid apple connoisseur, never before had I seen so many varieties, sizes, shapes, and most of all, uses for this glorious, patriotic fruit. Tufts Culinary Society held their first event of the school year at Brooksby Farm, a small place around a half-hour away from Tufts’ Medford campus. They had so many adorable activities planned–including apple picking (of course), pumpkin picking, a general store visit (abundant with fresh pastries), an animal pen (complete with a llama, unicorn-esque pony, and an ostriches), hayrides and a beautiful view for a fall day.

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Picking began with the purchase of a bag for the fruits of your picking labor: $8 for a small bag, $15 for a bag double the size and $25 for one even larger. Any choice is a good one, but we went for the middle size anticipating that that would be plenty to fit the apples for our planned pie. After a quick hayride we were in the depths of  the farm, wandering through the many rows filled with the yellow, red, and green beauties. A couple of taste tests were necessary for finding the perfect ones. For our needs, the multi-colored cameos and yellow delicious were the way to go. Both are super sweet with a decently hard skin for the perfect crunchy bite.

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The general store was absolutely amazing, mainly because of the still-warm apple cider donuts. They were absolutely delicious–perfectly golden on the exterior with a soft cinnamon flavored inside that steamed when you broke it open. I could barely pry myself away after eating one, but for those more inclined they have $5 half-dozen bags to take on the road. Other than that there was everything from fudge to monkey bread and every sort of jam, butter, or jelly imaginable. I cannot wait to dig into my new bought pumpkin butter made of apple and grape concentrates, pumpkin, spices and citric acid.

-Isabelle Vrod

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