The Cider Press Party

Our neighbors have an antique cider press, a big wooden thing with an iron crank that's been in their family since 1910. Every October, they invite the whole street to bring apples.

People arrive with bags, buckets and wheelbarrows full of apples from their trees, the farmers market, or the back of the grocery store. Everything goes in: Macintosh, Granny Smith, wild crabapples from the edge of the woods.

The kids take turns at the grinder, which is harder than it looks. The adults crank the press, and fresh cider pours out into a big steel bowl, cloudy and golden. It tastes like the whole of autumn.

There's a bonfire and a potluck and a dog who eats fallen apples until he has to lie down. By the end, everyone goes home with a gallon jug. Ours is in the fridge. It won't last the week.