I love fall. I love the sharp smoky scent of wood burning fireplaces, waking up after their long summer slumber. I love the look of piles of winter squash and gourds, with their dusty earth-toned skins. I love the meaty fragrance of roast braising in the oven, and the crunchy sound of fallen leaves underfoot as I walk the panting pooch, my ears covered from the cold, her breath visible in warm staccato puffs.

One of my favorite lines in a Nora Ephron film (have you noticed they always have fall scenes?) evokes the true essence of the season: Joe Fox says to Kathleen Kelly “Don’t you love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. On the other hand, this not knowing has its charms.” I love school supplies. For me, fall is always the beginning of the year. It’s such a hopeful time, with all that newness. New teachers, new backpacks, new markers, new erasers….I am one of those people who smells everything, even new milk. Which probably explains why I was an art teacher before I opened the restaurant. I love the hopeful sulfuric whiff of tempera paint, the look of reams of newsprint awaiting the first sketches of a student masterpiece, even the stuffiness of cramped rooms filled with children breathing in and out, deep in concentration. Most of all I love the smell of a new book. That’s right. Before I read the first few lines I open the book to the middle, and inhale the freshness of newly printed pages. Do you share this habit, I wonder?

But the fall smell I love the most is the fragrance of ripe, rosy apples, piled high, gathered in wooden crates. Last week I picked up a few cases (okay, 6 cases) of all different varieties from a customer and friend whose family has an orchard in Idaho. I got so excited as I loaded them into the Subaru, imagining the many incarnations I could create. Apple crisp, apple pie, apple and goat cheese salad, fig jam and apple sandwich with sharp cheddar, roasted butternut squash and apple soup, and my most favorite of all, applesauce. I drove to the restaurant with my score, unloaded into the storeroom, and picked out a dozen beauties to take home. Applesauce awaited.

My mother made applesauce for us when we were kids. She used all varieties of red apples, and kept the peels on. She used a food mill for that smooth texture, and the peels gave the sauce a rosy hue. Most nights she made applesauce she would roast a pork roast in the oven at the same time. The house would be filled with the savory aroma of onions and roasting pork, mixed with the sweet spiciness of simmering apples. There is nothing like the taste of a slice of roast pork, dipped in dark oniony gravy, with a spoonful of warm, pink applesauce on top. It’s the perfect fall bite.

Applesauce is so easy a child can make it. Really. When he was little, my son Jacob used to ask me to make it with him on chilly weekend afternoons. We would putter around the house, working a puzzle or having our “toes time”, snuggled in stocking feet under a puffy quilt, watching a movie while we waited for the apples to simmer and soften. Then we’d grab a big glass bowl and the food mill, I’d fill it up and Jacob would turn the crank while I refilled with a big metal spoon. We’d spoon the warm sauce into little glass bowls and eat it spoonful by spoonful, nodding at our good life.

All you need is some apples, a bit of cinnamon, some vanilla and maybe some sugar. I try to give you recipes that don’t require any special equipment, but this time I make an exception. You need a food mill. You really should have one anyway, since it’s a great tool for soups, gnocchi, and any kind of fruit puree you might make. The beautiful thing about a food mill is it lets you be lazy. No peeling, no coring. And they’re cheap, at times. I got mine for a dollar at a garage sale. Seriously. If you don’t have a food mill, then just peel your apples and cube them before you start. Make this applesauce this weekend, or if you get ants in your pants, tonight.

Favourite Applesauce

12 or more apples, all different varieties, or use the kind you like (I used Johnny Golds and a few red ones)

1 cup water or organic apple juice

ground cinnamon

freshly ground nutmeg

vanilla extract

pinch of salt

maybe some brown sugar

If you are using a food mill, simply wash the apples, then quarter them and throw them into a large pot, like a dutch oven or stock pot. If you’re not using a food mill, peel the apples, then quarter them and cut out the cores. Chop into cubes and add them to the pot. Add the water or the apple juice and start the heat on high. I like to fill the pot to the brim with apples. They will soften and reduce, don’t worry about having too much. Put the lid on and wait for the boil. Then take the lid off and start smooshing the apples down with a big spoon while they soften. GIve a smoosh and a stir every so often, until all of the pieces are soft and smooshy. Remove from heat.

Set up a large glass bowl and hook the food mill onto the side. Fill the mill with several spoonfuls of apple slush. Crank and refill until all of the apples are processed. Taste the sauce and add a pinch of salt, a touch of vanilla, some fresh nutmeg and cinnamon to taste. If the sauce is sweet enough, skip the sugar. I did not add any this time. If you’re using tart apples you may need to add up to a half a cup of brown sugar. Serve warm or cold. Store in the fridge or freeze in ziplocks. Yum!