My grandparents had several fruit trees in there garden, three of which were apples. I think there may have been four apple trees when I was very young, but one was chopped down. So come late autumn, even with my Nan giving bagfulls of apples away there was still much to do and the smell of apples being processed for the freezer was an almost daily event. When my Nan wasn’t preparing apples she was making plum jam or marrow chutney or salting beans or tying up onions and sometimes she would make a bakewell tart which was really nice.

Just the smell of the apples being tumbled into the sink for a wash immediately transported me back to my Nan’s kitchen.

Nice memories of learning how to sew on her ancient Singer, whilst awash with the smell of apples cooking.