Honeycrisp apples - packaged by the angels themselves

Packaged with Love Wednesdays

[NOTE: This post was originally supposed to roll last week. But Blogger for some reason never published it, so it'll get it day in the sun today. Because what I've said here needs to said, darn it!]

I don't know if anyone will believe this, but I'll say it anyway:

Until ten days ago, I had never had a Honeycrisp apple.

Being so inexperienced, I totally didn't understand the hype. It's an apple, I thought. Big frickin' whoop.


Then I saw a pristine pyramid of them in the grocery store. They beckoned me with their shiny yellow and red blushed skins. So I bought a trio, thinking that I'd eat them, remain unimpressed, and return to the kind, crunchy embrace of everyone's favorite fruit matriarch, Granny Smith.

I have never been so wrong in my life. I am now in love with these perfectly sweet, wonderfully crisp gems from the Pacific Northwest. Even though I am probably encouraging the melting of the polar ice caps by purchasing foodstuffs that had be trucked cross-continent, I can't help myself. These are SO GOOD!

They're even better than Ricemellow Creme, which was supposed to take center stage in today's Packaged With Love post. I rationalized this manuever by deciding that Honeycrisps are packaged by divine powers beyond our mortal realm. Altough they would probably be great with Ricemellow Creme and almond butter on a slice of whole wheat bread. The possibilities behind these apples are endless, I tell you.

*Drool*

[Note: If luck and weather are on our sides, in a few months you'll find my raving about the utter perfection of Honeybell oranges. If anyone doubts how good this citrus can be, let me put it to you this way: Honeybells are the Honeycrisps of oranges. That both can exist in a single season can surely be put forth as evidence of benevolent supreme being's existance.]