Continuing on with our celebration of the Harvest (or something like that), today we visited a local-favorite called The Cider Mill in Endicott, NY.
I was specifically on a hunt for these TREMENDOUSLY tasty apples we recently discovered, then could not locate again. They are called Crispin apples (note typo on sign) and they rocked my world. After I ate all 20 from the big bag we bought here a couple weeks ago, I went into withdrawals- I dreamed of these things, not kidding, all crisp and firm and sweet and tart and juicy, they are. So today I bought- ready? - FIFTEEN POUNDS of them. I think that's only(??) like 30 apples. Whatever. I can replenish next week, now that I know where to find them.
The Cider Mill is a local fave, in no small part, because people like to bring their kids there to watch the apples being "pressed" in this room full of big machines. It is mildly cool to see how they start out with whole apples, then put those into a grinder/mulcher type of machine, then those get pressed and pressed and pressed and pressed until all the juice comes out.
And that is where we get THIS nastiness. It's called "pomace" and it's just wrong, wrong, wrong.
The apples looked so beautiful going into the process, but this pomace shizzle that comes out the other end? YUK. I don't know which is better: the fact that the informational signs said that pomace is used for "feeding livestock and also for fertilizer," or the fact that some school kids wrote a Thank You note to the Cider Mill, and noted that the girls thought the cider press was "sick."