Apple Spider and Cinnamon Doughnuts

I count three types of autumn—witch on the broomstick crossing the moon, fallen leaves, Halloween…raking piles of leaves with a wine scent filling the air…leaf color change and apple picking.

Ripe apples. Apple cider. Let’s take a field trip.

Avon Township and Rochester for fresh cider.

We weren’t the only family to plan a Sunday trip to a cider mill in season. And it didn’t matter to us which one Mom and Dad chose, since we managed a few cider visits before autumn turned too cold or we ran out of luxury funds.

Yates Cider Mill.

A grist mill since 1863, using water from the Yates Dam which was built on the Clinton River for that purpose. After we drank our cup of cider, (which my sisters called “apple spider”) and ate our doughnuts, we walked across the road to savor the water splashing over the low waterfall dam in Clinton Park.

But the best parts of the trip were doughnuts and cider. We tried to savor their pleasure as slowly as possible as we watched cider being made—pouring, chopping, pressing, raking, or so my memory says. Yellow jackets everywhere, since they, too, relished cider.

Paint Creek Cider Mill.

This cider mill was built on the site of an original mill which was constructed in 1835 and powered by water from Paint Creek. The small community of Goodison grew around it. Construction for the cider mill began in 1958 and took ten years to complete, since the owner wanted to use the original mill timbers, and salvaged materials from buildings around the Detroit area.

There was a water wheel, if not as impressive as Yates’, but we looked forward to the plank sidewalk along the building and bushels of apples. There was also a restaurant that Dave and I treated ourselves to as adults.

Goodison Cider Mill.

The cider mill grew from a 1920’s fruit stand and the owner learned the cider business from Harry Yates, who sold the Blankenburgs a cider press. It opened for business in 1965 until 1978, when sold. In 1979, renovations were made and although the mill has changed ownership, it continues to produce the best cider in the area, and still with the original cider press from Harry Yates.

We kids couldn’t watch the process there, as I recall, but the cider was exceptional, made from local apples. The Goodison area was (is?) known for excellent farm produce and orchards.

Naturally, there were others. Blake’s Cider Mill. Various locations across Oakland County, but I’m focusing on my childhood cider mills, and those of my children on Sunday autumn afternoons.

The smell of apples, cinnamon, nutmeg, fresh doughnuts.

The buzzing of yellow jackets, drawn by the juice of crisp apples.

The first vivid sip of tart, spicy, sweet cider from apples picked off local trees. We had three McIntosh trees in our backyard, one of the best apples for cider, pie, applesauce, and eating.

The smell of falling leaves and bright blue skies, the squeak and groan of the wooden water wheel and the splash of water.

I’ve never been more than a lukewarm fan of apple juice, but cider? A drink from the heavenly realm. The difference? Cider includes peels, too, which shows where the flavor is.

Where I live now, there are no rows of sugar maple flames, no piles of leaves from every deciduous tree in the yard, no apple picking or cider season. Yes, I can buy cider in the grocery story, sometimes even non-pasteurized, but it doesn’t have the same bite as standing beside my brothers watching apples turned into magic juice, fighting yellow jackets for doughnut bites, listening to the creak of the mill wheel and wondering what a ride on it would feel like.

For those of you with a cider season in a few months, enjoy a cup for me.

I look forward to hearing your cider memories. Happy sipping!