He can take a pile of what appears to be junk and make something worthwhile out of it.
But, whatever the reason, I'm grateful for the help.
In years past, we have just gone the old fashioned route and cut the apples up by hand, using a knife.
The amped up version? Made from
Dad took an old tire pump and attached an apple wedger. You simply put an apple on top of the wedger, pull the handle down, and presto...instant cut up apples.
Me likey. I actually hogged this machine. Because it was kinda fun.
I'm a real special kind of crazy. But, it's the good kind.
This machine took a lot of the work out of it.
He took the formally hand-cranked strainer and attached a motor.
All that needed to be done was dump the cooked apples into the hopper and turn it on. Nice. My arm thanks him.
Dad is a genius but he must not think much of me because he told me to make sure that I didn't submerge the motor on this machine. The first time he said this, I thought to myself "duh". The second time he said it, I said, "Dad! How dumb do you think I am?"
To which Dad replied, "Well, sometimes, you make me wonder."
To help cook the apples faster he brought over a commercial convection oven that he "had laying around".
Two words here people.
But in this case, I'm grateful. We put a whole lotta apples in that oven.
Isn't she fab?
He usually has a grease rag stuffed in his back pocket.
Notice that he has one of my kitchen towels sticking out. I found this highly amusing.
Dad wanted to know if I wanted more apples next year.
I told him to wait awhile before asking me that.
I'm still recovering from this year's crop...