Apple Cider Caramels
by iisaw
“I was wonderin’ why you saved all o’ those cider apples,” Apple Bloom said, as she helped her big sister to haul their old cider press out of the storage shed.
“I know we most always use ‘em up for cider season, but there was a bit more’n usual this year, an’ that got me to thinkin’.” Applejack grabbed the tarp that covered the old machine and pulled it away, revealing a rickety-looking press that was mostly warped wood held together by a few rusty iron bands.
“That’s gonna take a heap o’ cleanin’.” Apple Bloom said. “Why cain’t we use the new press?”
“‘Cause that one’s got three filters between the tub an’ the spout, an’ I need juice that’s got all the little tiny bits still in it. Sediment’s what it’s called.”
“For candy? That don’t seem right.”
“You’ll see. Now go find your big brother an’ get him to scrubbin’ on this thing, while I fetch the funnel an’ cider jugs.”
Apple Bloom galloped off toward the western orchard. Applejack watched her go for a moment before turning back to the old press and putting a hoof on the big lever above the tub. It was a heavy piece of seasoned oak, but it was deeply worn from many years of hard use. Applejack moved her hoof lightly in the groove before giving her head a shake and trotting to the kitchen door.
= = =
“This is just a test batch,” Applejack said to her little sister the next day as she gathered tools and ingredients in the big farmhouse kitchen. “it’s been a good while since I made ‘em, an’ I want to make sure I still remember the recipe right. If’n they come out okay, we’ll make a big heap o’ them to give out at Pinkie Pie’s Hearth’s Warming Eve party.”
“I don’t remember as you ever made caramels, AJ,” Apple Bloom said. “Caramel apples, sure.”
“That’s ‘cause you was just about knee-high to a grasshopper last time,” Applejack replied, from where she was rummaging deep inside one of the big cabinets. “These’re pretty near the next best thing to a caramel apple, an’ a lot less likely to get all stuck in a pony’s mane.”
“You ain’t never gonna let me forget that, are you?” Apple Bloom grumbled.
“Where in tarnation is that candy thermometer?” Applejack backed out of the cabinet. “Well, I reckon’ I can get along without it.”
“I don’t know why y’all don’t just bake a nice pie,” Granny Smith put in from where she sat in her rocker next to the stove. “This here’s a heap o’ fussin’ for some itty-bitty candies.”
“So y’ain’t gonna have none when they’re all done?”
“I didn’t say that!” Granny gave her a stern glare. “Wouldn’t be polite t’ turn my nose up at somethin’ y’all worked so hard at.”
Applejack grinned and turned back to her little sister. “Alright! First, put four cups o’ cider in the pan an’ set it to boilin’. Keep an eye on it an’ stir it once in awhile to make sure it don’t scorch.”
While Apple Bloom put the cider on the stove, Applejack lined a baking pan with two long sheets of criss-crossed parchment and set it aside on the long wooden counter, then turned and looked thoughtfully at the large collection of spice jars on the shelf above.
“‘Bout half a teaspoon o’ cinnamon an’ one of flaky salt,” Applejack said to herself as she spooned out the ingredients and mixed them in a small dish. “Hmn… Granny, did Mooriella deliver that heavy cream this mornin’?”
“It’s in the icebox in the blue jug! She gave us a good dollop o’ unsalted butter, too.”
Applejack poured out a third of a cup of the cream and cut eight tablespoon-sized chunks of the butter. “How’s that cider comin’ along, Apple Bloom?”
“I think it’s gonna all boil away!”
Applejack stepped over to the stove and looked onto the pan. “Naw, it’s fine. That’s what we want it to do. Just watch it until it gets dark and syrupy. When it’s down to ‘bout half a cup or maybe a little less, gimme a holler.”
Applejack went to the pantry where the bulk dry ingredients were kept. “Now for the sugar.”
“Y’all make sure you use the light brown sugar!” Granny called from her chair. “Pack it down in that half cup measure an’ make sure your hoof’s clean first!”
“I thought you’d rather have a pie, Granny.” Applejack said, being careful to hide her grin.
“Don’t you sass me, young’n! I’m the one who taught your mamma that recipe, so I know what I’m talkin’ about! An’ don’t forget the cup o’ regular sugar! I did that once an’ all I got was goo!”
Applejack’s smile faded a bit. “I won’t forget,” she said.
“I think the cider’s ready!” Apple Bloom said.
“All right. Bring it over hear an’ be careful you don’t slosh none of it outta the pan.”
Apple Bloom put the pan down on the counter and Applejack stirred in the butter, cream, and both kinds of sugar. “Okay, now put it back on the stove, but use that side where the heat’s medium. This part’s tricky, so pay attention.”
“Uh-huh,” Apple Bloom nodded vigorously, her red mane bow bobbing up and down behind her head.
“If’n I could find that consarned thermometer, we’d cook this until it got to two-hunnert an’ fifty two degrees.”
“Didn’t need no fancy therma-whatsit in my day!” Granny put in.
“But since we ain’t got one,” Applejack continued, only rolling her eyes a bit, “I got this bowl o’ really cold water here. We just test the mix when it looks right. If’n I put a little bit in the water an’ it firms up an’ you can roll it into a little ball, it’ll be ready. It won’t take much more’n five minutes.”
The first drizzle of brown syrup they put into the bowl stayed limp and began to dissolve, but the second firmed up nicely.
“Okay!” Applejack said, pulling the pan off the stove and holding it for Apple Bloom. “Quick like a bunny, stir in the cinnamon an’ salt!”
Apple Bloom dumped the spices into the pan and mixed them with a few rapid strokes of her big wooden spoon, then Applejack poured the mixture out into the parchment-lined baking pan.
“Now what?”
“Now we wait, li’l sis! It’ll take ‘bout two hours for it to set up proper. Then we use the parchment to lift it outta the pan. If’n we had room in the icebox, it’d go faster but we ain’t in a hurry.”
“Then what? It’s all one big piece!”
“Yep! So, we gotta cut it up into little squares, and there’s a partic’lar way it’s gotta be done. We get a little neutral oil an’ a rag to wipe it onto the knife, see? An’ the most important thing is to put oil on the knife before each an’ every cut! You may think it looks slippery enough for two cuts, but it ain’t, I guarantee it!”
Granny Smith chuckled from her corner by the stove. AJ shot her a look, but Granny ignored it. “Y’all listen to what AJ’s a tellin’ you, y’hear? You plop that mess o’ caramel on the cuttin’ board and go to sawin’ away without you oil that knife good and proper, an’... well, a pony just might drag the whole shebang off the counter an’ onto her hooves! Be a sight bigger mess than one little ol’ caramel apple stuck in your hair!” She outright laughed, then.
Apple Bloom looked up at her big sister, eyes wide. “Did that ever happen?”
“Yup,” was all Applejack said.
= = =
“For the party, we’ll wrap up all the pieces in little squares o’ wax paper, but y’all can just grab yourselves a piece off’n the plate,” Applejack said as she set the cut caramels down on the table after the family had finished their supper.
By some unspoken agreement they all waited until Apple Bloom had popped the first candy into her mouth. Her eyes went wide. “It does taste like a caramel apple! Can I save some for Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo?”
Applejack smiled at her. “We’ll make a big ol’ batch tomorrow, and there’ll be plenty to share with your friends. We can make enough for your school friends and Ms. Cheerilee, too. They’re a nice thing to share around, this time o’ year.”
“They’re gonna love ‘em! I cain’t wait to see the looks on their faces!” Apple Bloom scooped up another couple of the sweets.
The rest of the Apple family ate their caramels, thinking back to winter holidays long past.
= = =
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Author's Note
Yes, Apple Cider Caramels are a real thing, and all the information needed to make them is in the story. They are super yummy and worth the effort.
Make sure to wash your hooves first!
