Appley Halloween

Despite being a 41 year old childless person, I was irrationally disappointed today.
On the way the way home from jury service this evening I was dismayed to discover our local shop had run out of pumpkins (they had loads this morning).

Not to be deterred clearly having too much time on my hands I set to work on the nearest equivalent I could find at home - a tiny apple - ta dah!

When I was a child there was no carving of gorgeous orange pumpkins at Halloween, no trick or treating. We bobbed for apples or hung them on string and tried to take a bite with hands behind our backs. I'm not sure whether it was to do with the cost of pumpkins or whether they were unavailable then, but I have no memory of them in the UK. We made do with the nearest cousin, a rock hard old swede. My poor Dad would spend hours hacking away at the 'boulder', ruining spoons and cursing under his breath. The stub of candle would finally be lit and we would love it until the lid began to toast and then singe with that special acrid swedey smell that lingered for days...

Burnt apple smells much sweeter, but it has gone brown very quickly :)