I like apple jelly. I always have, ever since I was a little kid. I remember being five years old, and going to the commissary with my parents and my brother, and walking down the aisle with the jelly. And I remember looking at the jars of apple jelly, and really, really wanting my parents to buy at least one of them.
At this point in time, I don't think I'd ever even tasted apple jelly. I just knew I'd like it. Which I do, but anyway. Imagine some wavy lines as we once again drift into the past...
My mother was the main shopper in our family. And she always bought grape or strawberry jellies and jams. Never apple. It was a source of great sorrow to me. I couldn't figure out why she never expanded her horizons [thus, expanding mine]. Of course, now I know it's because I never mentioned my intense desire to taste the orangey-clear goo.
We moved a lot growing up, and traveled to various places in Europe and across the United States. And throughout all the changing scenery, hormones, and friends, one thing always stayed the same: Despite my desires, No Apple Jelly.
Then we came to Washington. I thought for sure, this would be it. I mean, it's the frikkin' APPLE STATE, right? So in my deluded mind, I was positive that here was where it would happen. We'd go to the grocery store, step into the jelly aisle, and be greeted with jar upon jar of apple jelly. Only apple jelly. And then my Mama would buy some, and I'd get to go home and put it on my toast.
That didn't happen, of course. In reality, we smushed into the jam-packed aisle the day after payday, and my Mama grabbed the nearest jar of purple or red jam. I remember sighing and wondering if things would ever change.
Years passed, I entered high school. By this time, I still hadn't actually tried apple jelly. My fascination, though it's true it only came to mind when I was in the jelly aisle, never left. I simply had to taste it.
I got older. I got a job. I worked hard, I earned money.
And the thought never once crossed my mind to go out and buy my own jar of apple jelly. Of course, now that I think about it, I realize how completely ridiculous that is. I mean, I could never buy my own jar of apple jelly. That'd be like buying my own bicycle. Sacreligious. You see, I'm of the opinion that there are certain things that can only be attained through gifts. Bicycles, sex toys, and apply jelly are on that list.
Ahem. To continue. By now I was sixteen, and I still hadn't tried the stuff. I was getting impatient, time was running out. What if I died the next day? I'd die an apple jelly virgin! Not to mention I'd never had sex...
So there's this restaurant nearby, called Hawks Prairie Inn. My friends and I used to go there all the time, before they started closing at midnight. We were, uh, early morning customers, you could say. Anyway, the restaurant. Well, truck stop, really. The best thing on the entire menu at this place are the omelettes. Trust me, these are no ordinary omelettes. Four eggs, whatever you frikkin' want inside [I'm partial to cheddar and bacon], a huge side of hash browns, and your choice of toast.
I'm an english muffin gal. Well, I like all breads, really, except this horrible greyish brown stuff I had once in Austria when I was ten, but anyway. The first time we went there, I chose english muffins, and have ever since. And when the waitress asked what kind of jelly I wanted... Well, you would have laughed your ass if you'd seen my face, I'm sure. Compeletely idiotic. Truthfully, I was trying to decide if asking for apple jelly would go against my principles. But since Katie was paying, I decided it could count as a gift, so I chose apple jelly and honey.
SIGH
It was so sweet. Literally. I still remember that first taste. Brings a smile to my face every time. And of course, years have passed since then. About eight months ago I actually brought up my love of apple jelly to my Mama, and since then we've always had it in the fridge. There's nothing like starting your day off with toast and apple jelly.
Well, unless you've got Nutella, but that's another story for another day.
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