Apples, Cupcakes and Global Warming

Last month my little brother and I went to Boston by way of the $15 Fung Wah Bus to visit my brother and his wife. Although we arrived late to catch the 5:30 bus leaving Manhattan and had to sit next to the bus bathroom, we made it to Boston in less than five hours, including the hour and a half of traffic we sat in getting out of whichever borough we drove through. When we arrived, my brother and his wife were there to greet us in their silver boat more commonly known as the Ford Taurus. We drove to their place, threw our stuff down, raided their refrigerator, and watched The Soup on TV as we fell asleep in their living room. We woke up the next morning ready for a day of Johnny Picking Apple Cupcakes. No, wait, that came out wrong. Apple picking and Johnny Cupcakes. Yes. That makes so much more sense.

After a hearty breakfast at McDonald’s, my brother suggested we go to a place called Carlson Orchards. It was, well, is a lovely orchard on a hillside or a mountain. The definition of mountains back east is much different than my home out west. When we arrived, we approached a wooden table occupied by two women in visors and a whole bunch of bags. We thought the older woman wearing a blue visor asked us if we wanted to pay first. My brother started to say he could pay before or after but she quickly shut him up with “That wasn’t a question. You pay first. The small bag is $12 and the big bag is $20.” The woman in the orange visor handed us the small bag and we scurried away and headed towards the rows of trees. This orchard had all kinds of apples; brae burn, gala, Macintosh, red delicious. First, I’d like to say that red delicious apple trees should be destroyed because it is common knowledge that red delicious apples are the grainiest, mushiest apples in existence and therefore are a waste of precious soil and water to grow. Talk about wasting our natural resources. (Of course, they are the only apples school cafeterias, including NYU dining halls, dishes out. No wonder kids hate healthy foods.) We picked mostly Macintosh and Gala but only after having a few sample apples between the four of us. I’m not sure we were allowed to sample but there seemed to be plenty of apples for all and we were definitely not going to ask those old ladies in their scary out of fashion visors (were visors ever in fashion?). My sister-in-law and I talked about all the delicious apple pies and crisps we could make but then realized they had a bakery on the premises so we headed there immediately after we filled our bag. Inside their little bakery, there were apples pies you could take home and bake. They looked ok. Costco apple pie probably tastes just as good.




They also had fresh apple crisp you could buy right there on the spot and EAT. Of course, I bought it, no questions asked, and no whipped cream on top. As I was about to enjoy the first bite of my apple crisp in the warm Styrofoam bowl (wait, I mean warm apple crisp in white Styrofoam bowl), I heard shouting from across the room. A Chinese woman (and yes she really was a Chinese woman, I’m not just shooting out Chinese as a wild guess) had two small bags, one was completely filled, and the other only had a few apples inside. She seemed to be confused about the price of the apples and must have suggested that she put back the apples in the slightly filled bag. The woman at the cash register immediately became furious and assumed the Chinese woman couldn’t understand what she was saying. She was yelling in her face, speaking slowly of course, and refused to listen to this obviously competent Chinese woman. So her English was slightly broken, there was no reason to shout. At least not yet. The Chinese woman, who up until this point had stayed quite calm, also began to lose it and started yelling back at the woman. Eventually they came to some sort of agreement. I think she put both contents of the small bags into one large bag but regardless, I had a hard time enjoying my apple crisp. Weren’t things always happy on the farm? The woman who served the apple crisp just looked at me and said, “We get this all the time. They always want to steal our apples.” They? Polite Chinese women try to steal apples? I highly doubt people want to steal bags of apples they just spent time picking. It was during this train of thought that I realized the woman yelling was the blue visor lady. I wonder if we looked suspicious. Maybe we looked like the kind of people who would sample apples. Is that why she made us pay first? Why didn’t the Chinese women have to eat (whoops) I mean pay first? And where are all the men in this story? And why haven’t I told you about the amazing apple crisp? Well mostly because, it was amazing apple crisp but could have been the most amazing apple crips I’ve ever eaten had it not been spoiled by the international incident that took place somewhere in the hills (or mountains) outside of Boston. We happily escaped that farm and I even took pictures.



I was, at that time, trying to impress a boy who lives in California. A few days before the trip, I received an e-mail from him informing me of some stores in Boston that he thought were pretty cool and insisted that I check them out. I forwarded the e-mail to my brother and sister-in-law to inform them that I thought this boy was totally weird. Of course, they interpreted the e-mail exactly how I wanted them to and we headed towards Johnny Cupcakes on Newbury St. in downtown Boston after the apple picking adventure. Newbury St. is a delightful, trendy, Soho-ish part of downtown Boston. There are designer shops, expensive candy boutiques, and semi-beautiful people eating eggs benedict and French toast wearing Harvard attire with their little dogs at their feet in their ridiculously expensive doggy purses. Needless to say, I liked, ok, almost loved it. Johnny Cupcakes was no exception. The place sold t-shirts, belt buckles, and little shorts that looked more like underwear. Maybe they were underwear, I don’t even know. The trademark for the place is a skull and bones but the skull is replaced by a cupcake.




It’s a cute place and I almost spent $35 dollars on a t-shirt that I could have probably made on my own. I decided not to buy it because I’m not at that point in my life where I can buy expensive useless t-shirts because I think they're cool. I can only pray that in a few years I will be at that point, but until then, I’d still rather eat next week. There was a t-shirt that I could have bought for $24 but then people would know if they ever visited the store, that I bought the cheaper t-shirt and I would not want that. All in all, the store was fine. It looked like a bakery and the shirts were stored in giant glass door refrigerators that weren’t really refrigerated. Underwear/shorts were stuffed in cupcakes holders. The concept was the perfect idea for a high-end t-shirt shop. I took my picture, which wasn’t my best photo, outside the store, smiling and pointing at the sign. I sent the photo to the boy who was probably impressed that I actually checked it out. I would be.



After apples and cupcakes, we ate at Texas Roadhouse, where, if you had a peanut allergy you might die. They give you unlimited buckets of peanuts and you can throw the shells on the floor! The ribs at this place are by far the best ribs I’ve ever had. The meat literally falls off the bone. No mess here. The side salad is amazing, especially with the honey mustard dressing. And the rolls, well, they are greasy and served with honey butter. Enough said, right? With a diet coke, there really couldn’t be a better Texas style meal, if that is really what they eat in Texas, of course. The name sort of makes me assume that anyway.

Overall, the best part of the trip was not getting the picture to impress a boy, not eating greasy delicious ribs, and not almost spending $35 on a Hanes t-shirt with a cupcake/pirate logo on it. Call me sentimental but the best part was riding the Fung Wah bus back from Boston with my little brother on Sunday afternoon. We spent the four hour journey making bad jokes about Global Warming which to be perfectly honest, neither one of us know that much about. What I do know, is that Al Gore, even if he is on to something, sure is an easy target.