Shopping local, apple pies, and a holiday weekend

The daughter and her husband came to visit last Tuesday evening, as usual; she suggested we do a cookout/holiday meal this weekend.  I was all for it.  We have too few of those family get-togethers these days.  Her husband said, "I'd rather not do it on Monday.  I'd like to relax on my last day before I go back to work."

So today's the day.  I volunteered to make potato salad and the usual Oreo Delight.  Yesterday I realized I needed another box of Cool Whip and a couple other things and told Cliff we needed to go to the store.  He asked which store.  I said, "I think Dave's will do it, although there's a big chance he won't have his advertised specials.  But surely on the Friday before Memorial Day, he'll have them."

I really would love to do more of my grocery shopping there.  You see, I remember how great it was back when my little town had a grocery store.  When we moved here, Walmart didn't have groceries, and it was twenty-five miles to the nearest town with Walmart and large stores, both of which had lower prices, and great bargains.  We didn't buy everything at the store in Wellington, but it sure was handy when we ran out of something.  Back then we had a gas station, a drug store, a hardware store, and a bank in our town.  Over the years they all shut down, one by one.  Now we only have insurance agents and a mini-mart which is also a gas station, but since we have to leave town to get anything else, we buy our gas on those trips.   There's also a catfish place, but our budget keeps us from going there more than once a year.

My point is that Dave's (formerly Harold's) is the nearest actual grocery store we have, and I'd hate to see them shut down.  I think it's ten miles away.  I try my best to shop there, but I'm often disappointed.  I'm not put off by the prices at all.  It's a home-town store, and they don't have the muscle to compete with Walmart, which is another 10 miles from Dave's, in Richmond.

I went in the store and grabbed a cart.  The first thing I saw wasn't even on my list:  Apples that had seen better days, marked down significantly.  "Oh, Golden Delicious!  They're great for pies, and apple pie would be a great addition to our Sunday cookout," I thought.

Then I went on to gather some bargains... but typical for Dave's, everything bargain-priced was gone.  I ran into the manager and asked if they had any of the Thousand Island Kraft salad dressings in back someplace.  "I doubt it," he said.  "But the truck comes in tomorrow."

"But I live in Wellington," I said.  "Oh," he replied, chuckling.  "That isn't far."  No explanation, no apology, no offer of a rain check.  For some reason this hit me wrong, so I said, "Well, I guess I'll go on to Richmond then."

So I went back through the store and put back the five or six items in my cart (except for the apples), because I'm not that person who just dumps unwanted groceries any old place, even when I'm angry.

So we went to Richmond and got what I needed.

I don't know when I've made an apple pie.  Cliff and I can't leave them alone once they're made, and ever since Thanksgiving two years ago when the granddaughter-in-law's grandma brought pie, I've given up making pie because I know someone who makes them better.  Sandy's crust is magical.  She has no recipe, like many old-fashioned cooks.  She even tried at one point to make pie crust and measure ingredients and write it down, but found it an impossible task.

Since I had plenty of apples, I decided on cobbler, rather than pie.  Not the biscuit-topped cobbler or the cake-topped cobbler.  I wanted the kind Grandma used to make, which is basically a big, rectangular pie.  I mixed up the crust and got ready to peel the apples.

I took a taste of the first apple I peeled and realized it was NOT a Golden Delicious.  It was one of those tasteless Granny Smiths.  Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, so I forged ahead.  

The cobbler just now came out of the oven, and it looks OK.  Cliff didn't eat breakfast, so I'll let him sample it pretty soon. since he was hovering over my shoulder a while ago when I peeked in the oven.  I'm a little concerned about whether I used enough sugar:  I know how much sugar I need if I'm using Golden Delicious (not so much) or Jonathan (a little more).  These stupid Granny Smith apples, I know nothing about.  If it's too sour, we'll just plop some vanilla ice cream on it and hope for the best.  

Peace.

P.S.  This cobbler is as good as any I ever made.  The only way it could be better is if Sandy had made the crust, but I'll take it.