So we flouted convention and thought apple not pumpkin pie and headed for the mountains... In clear sunshine we careered down through the orchards towards the pink ladies and gathered them in until our bags sagged. Then climbed back upwards and lay on a grassy slope recovering and chomping our way through our fruits and offering directions to the other assorted families heading steeply downwards.
M pulled off a great sweet shortcrust when we got home and made this brief introduction to her Thanksgiving table...
