The Gravenstein is a rare and esteemed variety of apple. Around here it's only grown in a small section of Sonoma County, two hours north of here, and its season is just a few weeks in August. Few Gravensteins make it into grocers down here, and usually the season is over before I notice it's started.
But this year I noticed in advance that there is an annual Gravenstein Apple Fair in Sebastopol, the town at the heart of the apple's range. So I decided to go and bought a ticket. Today was the day. It turned out to be a good day to go, with temperatures in the 80s F; tomorrow, the second day, threatens to be much warmer.
It was very popular. It's held in a semi-rural park on the edge of town, and there isn't much parking. A nearby business and church that aren't using their parking lots on weekends (a church? if they say so ...) volunteered theirs as offsite lots, and a perpetually overloaded shuttle ran people back and forth. I arrived at 11 AM, an hour after it started, and already lines were long but moving quickly.
The fair is full of booths of various vendors. Plenty of Gravenstein apples, both whole and in recipes. I forewent the popular fritters, and instead had a slice of caramel apple spice cake from this bakery. Also some freshly squeezed apple juice for right then, and a jar of apple sauce to go, all Gravenstein of course.
As I leaned against a tree eating my cake, a small girl (with her mother nearby) holding a half-eaten apple was staring up at me in curiosity. She said nothing, but I talked to her about apples and trees.
Looking beforehand for some serious lunch, I found a few vendors of that and contented myself with a bowl of paella from one of those vast commercial paella pans. It was a large serving, and, while the ingredients were good, the results were rather bland.
Later, I found a place to sit in the shade and listen to the pleasant set of this singer-songwriter and his unaggressive rock band. His backing vocalist took the spotlight for one number, an eccentric but appealing cover of Gershwin's "Summertime."
By the time that was over it was 2 PM, I'd been there for three hours and done what I came to do; time to leave.
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