It’s apple season, y’all!
In the Old North State, that’s a big deal. I grew up just up the road from Henderson County—the heart of North Carolina apple country. It might surprise you, but our state ranks 7th in apple production nationwide, and Henderson County alone grows about 65% of them.
So, when the air turns crisp and the orchards start buzzing, it always stirs up memories for me.
Every fall, Mamaw and Papaw would bring home bushels of apples. We’d gather on the back porch, peeling and slicing while Mamaw put them up for the winter. If I close my eyes, I can still see her, sitting with her little Rada paring knife in hand.
It was during one of those peeling sessions that Mamaw introduced me to apple peel divination. She showed me how to peel an apple in one long strip, then toss the peel over your shoulder. The shape it landed in was supposed to reveal the first initial of the person you’d marry.
I’ve thought about that a lot over the years—and sometimes I wonder if the letter “B” ever showed up. I honestly can’t remember. What I do know is Mamaw sure got plenty of work out of me by teaching me how to divine those peels.
Not that I minded. The faster I peeled, the sooner the treats came out. And let me tell you—nobody made better fried apples or homemade applesauce than Mamaw. And the pies? Oh my Lord! That woman made the best apple pie on the planet!
It makes me a little sad that Bug and Belle never got to experience that same porch full of apples. By the time they came along, Mamaw was too old to put them up.
But traditions have a way of finding new life. My girls may not know the rhythm of an orchard harvest or the weight of a bushel basket on their laps, but they do know about apple peel divination. And they know that every fall, their mama’s fried apples bring a little taste of WNC home.
