If you’re looking for a weekend travel destination that is scenic in an un-Las Vegas sort of way and offers abundant opportunities to consume boatloads of calories but only in the most health-conscious manner, then have I got the place for you.
Let me clarify that I adhere to important, basic criteria for my holiday retreats such as not falling into rivers. And under no circumstances will there be any goings-on resembling the activity flippantly referred to as “roughing it.” When it’s time to bed down for the night, the closest I get to the earth these days is the ground floor at a Holiday Inn. Since this destination met the bulk of my conditions, I’m pleased to report that the getaway my spouse and I took recently was a winner.
The trip was a celebration of our anniversary. And while it wasn’t, technically speaking, a “big” anniversary, which I classify as any number ending in five (“Really Big”) or zero (“The Really-Big-Kahuna-Big”), I believe it’s important to commemorate all wedding anniversaries – especially when it involves a couple that is actually still speaking to one another, and for some folks, I realize, that requirement can be a bit dicey.
So we packed up Puddin’, our four-legged “child,” and headed for the Sierra foothills because in Camino, near Placerville and Pollock Pines, off Highway 50, is a wonderland of fall called “Apple Hill” comprised of numerous farms, ranches, wineries, a micro-brewery and even a day spa.
Now the great thing about Apple Hill is that you don’t have to run about all willy-nilly trying to find your way around. Stop at any farm – each conveniently marked with quaint little numbered signs for direction-challenged people like me – and pick up a handy map listing all the stops along the way. Or simply follow your nose to the fragrant aroma of apples – baking apples tucked into popovers, pies, dumplings, strudels, jams and cookies – or newly picked apples of endless varieties – each with their own distinctively fresh, crispy scent.
It was rainy the day we toured the area, which didn’t dampen the enthusiasm of the growers we met nor the numerous people enjoying the fruits of the harvest. The rain simply magnified the magic spell of an autumn day in the mountains – sweet, fragrant sugar pines, their boughs heavy with recent rain, mingled with the aromas of baking pastries and aromatic spices. In the orchards, men in coveralls gathered bare branches into bundles, feeding the tender kindling to small fires burning brightly in the foggy-grey afternoon, adding a pleasant scent of wood smoke to the heady bouquet of autumnal perfume. Woven through this tapestry, trees of blazing color warmed the landscape.
We found the people stationed at the various businesses to be friendly with an abundance of … OK, I have to do this – apple-cheeked ladies passing out samples of a whole range of goodies. At one organic farm, a delightfully cheerful woman pared generous slices from freshly picked apples, encouraging us to taste our favorites a couple of times, “just to make sure, you know.” My spouse enjoys tart and I prefer sweet, which I liken to our diverse personalities although that theory doesn’t win me any popularity contests at home, if you get my drift.        Â
Naturally, being the restrained individual that I am, I refrained from any overindulgence of delightfully sweet, cinnamon-y, melt-in-your mouth temptations. I mean, I wrote the book on moderation. OK, that is a complete and total lie. However, in the name of, um … science, I coerced my spouse into joining me in a scrupulously meticulous taste test to determine which of the dozen or so caramel apple varieties was the best.
Sadly, there were way too many kinds to sample them all without landing ourselves in a sugar-induced coma. But, oh – how to choose! Traditional caramel apples or caramel with nuts. Turtles and maple walnut. All manners of chocolate including fudge and chocolate with peanut butter. Plus a few new concoctions I’d never seen before and trust me, I’ve been around the block a few times when it comes to caramel apples. Striving to be totally unbiased in our “research,” in addition to conventional caramel apples we chose “caramel apple pie” and “pink cinnamon” apples because they were so – well … strangely beautiful and bizarre. Perfect research specimens.
When we cut into our first guinea pig, er … apple – the lovely “caramel apple pie,” which looked for all the world like a traditional caramel apple with a pastry wrap gathered around the lower half, we discovered that, instead of pastry, the caramel apple was enfolded in what seemed to be a sugared fondant of some sort. The effect was pure bliss (but was it “the best?”) except the fillings in my teeth were now on screaming red alert from the accompanying sugar overload.
So I hope you will find your way to Apple Hill via the historical villages of Placerville and Pollock Pines to enjoy a pleasant passage of the seasons with a group of folks who seem as American as, well … apple pie. It’s a slice of life we often forget is available to us as we rush into the harried holiday season, but it’s a grand opportunity to slow down and breathe in the wholesome aromas and friendly atmosphere of a bountiful part of the country.
And the other caramel apples we found? They have been a delight brought home to savor slowly. But my selfless science project qualifies as a failure in that I can only determine the best caramel apple is whichever one is sliced on the plate in front of me. I should probably go back for a little more … um, research because there are additional varieties of caramel apple treats we omitted on our last trip to Apple Hill – and I am always willing to take one for the team. And for science.
Gale Hammond is a 23-year Morgan Hill resident. Reach her at
Ga*********@ao*.com
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