Last year, we witnessed the Thanksgiving weekend Pie-Thru and deemed the farm's market's Apple Pie inferior than that of homemade renditions (albeit soggy bottoms executed the first time around).
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The year before that, I discovered the Strawberry Rhubarb Pie that I loved so dearly to be tacky and wholly disappointing. But, of course, we weren't about to go a year without Apple Cider.
Having being reminded of Thanksgiving long weekend's pending arrival, I proposed a visit to The Apple Factory at my earliest opportunity. In advance of the celebratory holiday, the wagon of decorations had yet to emerge. A handful of scarecrows and the market's signature smiling pumpkins greeted us instead.
Apples obtained from the grocery - and not just one, mind you! - had been dismal. Bruised on their surface, rotting from its core, or a combination of both, up to 70% of these purchases were discarded. While I do not declare myself an avid enjoyer of apples, I do enjoy the aromatic, floral qualities of seasonal produce.
Stout, plump Cortland apples had proven themselves adequate as eating apples, but failed the baking test due to mushiness. Honeycrisp were splendid, in-season picks, though the constituents of the bags on the grocery shelf sported shallow, grey spots - indications of insect infestation.
We took to two Honeycrisp apples by weight, marked as "Fancy Apples" on the receipt, and a $9.99 bag of Gala. Northern Spy or some other breed would have been more to my liking, though the bagged selection was limited to Ginger Gold (clearly old stock), Gala, and McIntosh.
The Apple Factory Jamboree was on tour this weekend, evidently on a mission to escape the sudden surge of show schedules in the GTA.
Hungry by this point, we chose an Apple Streusel Pie to take home. I had countered that the crunchy oat topping would be easy to recreate; that said, "easy" does not necessarily equate to "quick". Moreover, it was the sole specimen of interest, for pecan pie would be crafted in-house by yours truly.
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The streusel edition was much better than expected: its surface spectacularly crunchy with the satisfying grittiness of toasted oats. We observed a reduction in apple filling compared to their Apple Pies (Regular and No Sugar Added), but it mattered minimally, for the sugary, starch-thickened filling was of little concern to us.
En route back, I proposed a detour to Second Cup for their Pistachio White Hot Chocolate. Only with our arrival at the Heartland location did we discover the outpost's utter deficiency of pistachio syrup.
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Grudgingly, I took to a Pumpkin Spice Cold Foam Hazelnut Espresso instead. About half the cup was filled with a dark, acidic fluid, while a thick, speckled layer of cream resided on top. The combination was repulsive to say in the least - an unharmonious combination of synthetic spices and artificially flavoured foam. It burned the throat as it was downed. Needless to say, a Small size was more than sufficient. Too reminiscent it was of my failures - you know, drink concoctions that sounded intriguing in concept but atrocious when actualized.
Mr. Puffs was bypassed in consideration of time, as relieving ourselves of weekend afternoon Costco traffic was chaotic enough in itself.
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