Few ingredients are as familiar as apples, yet few carry such symbolic weight. Peaking just as the season’s begin to turn, they are the ultimate symbol of nature’s abundance, imbued with a sense of nostalgia for the retreating sunlight. The symbolism became unexpectedly tangible to me during a recent autumn apple-picking trip with my family: surrounded by branches heavy with fruit, I found myself seeing the humble apple with fresh awe. It looked nothing short of nature’s miracle. Native to the mountains of central Asia, near the modern Kazakhstan-China border, it has travelled further than perhaps any other fruit, becoming at home in cuisines from Normandy to New York, Caucasus to Kashmir. Sweet or savoury, everyday or celebratory, the apple is truly universal. Its versatility always reminds me of the simple joy of cooking with the seasons.
