Hey Elle, so glad you got to see your golden street, and that Jana is doing better.
I have a favorite fall tradition. Every year, a friend and I schlep down to Rhode Island for a little reunion with friends we used to work with. We visit their little town and hang out with their two great kids. I'm in charge of bringing donuts on the way: a pink one for Talia, and chocolate for Max.
The big event is apple picking, in a special, famly-run orchard that has more than a dozen different varieties, plus some ancient trees that "have always been there" with their mysterious, unknown, unnamed apples. We grab a red wagon, a bunch of bags, and these lacrosse-like sticks for picking the high-up apples. Most of the trees have hand-carved wooden signs announcing their variety, along with a colored spool indicating the best time to pick. It's never crowded, the smell is intoxicating, and we sample along the way. The kids have a blast, helping choose just the right apple, or simply getting a ride in the wagon. Last year, the quince were abundant too, and my friend Joey made some chutney.
After the apples, it's time for a little treat for the adults. We visit a nearby vineyard and winery, hang out on the beautiful grounds, taste a little wine (Rhode Island wine is often very bad), and listen to the jazz trio in the tasting room.
Then it's home for cooking something vegetarian, and something with all those apples!