Not many foods are actually bittersweet.
Kumquats come to mind. But not much else. Mostly when I hear the word bittersweet, I think of time and place: Leaving someplace you love after having had a really good time. Labor Day weekend was always bittersweet: leaving summer and the beach to face the uncertainty of a new school year.
I love summer time.
Many years ago, on June 21, I sent everyone I loved a picture of a peach
and wished them a wonderful summer, juicy and dripping with sweetness.
Peaches are summertime. Soft, warm skin. Plump and full. Bursting with juice. And oh the smell. It is all the early spring blossoms fully opened. No wonders the bees hover above the orange pink flesh, close so close, daring themselves not to get their wings caught in sticky sweetness.
Labor Day is the official end. Though schools start earlier (arrgh, don’t get me started on that bad idea), Labor Day is usually the last summer trip. The last bit of indolence.
On to apples…