Candy-coated memories

Last Sunday we visited the Ottawa Farmers Market (www.ottawafarmersmarket.ca) for the first time. A fairly recent addition to Ottawa, the market operates out of Lansdowne Park.

Lansdowne is noted for its dilapidated, idle, former CFL football stadium and the Civic Centre arena, itself home to the Ottawa ’67s of the Ontario Junior A hockey league, rock concerts and the occasional small trade show.

We’d been told that this farmers’ market was tiny, cramped and tucked away in an awkward corner of the mostly paved, municipal “park.” Fortunately none of that proved true. And we had a lovely, and productive, shopping expedition. In fact we were so busy shopping, I forgot to take pictures.

But more about our visit to the market at another time. (Rated: Hopefully, knowing Mr. Procrastination’s modus operendi (sp?) Make that: Knowing Mr. Procrastination’s MO.)

What I want to discuss here is the pleasant memories stirred up by one purchase in particular. There we were walking along row after row of stalls crammed with such fresh, home-grown goodness, when I spotted a handful of bright red, not-so-healthy items that called out to me, like scarlet sirens. As you have no doubt guessed by the accompanying photo, the object of my sudden desire was the good old candy apple.

(The photo was taken later at home, when I had just taken a bite of the candy apple and suddenly realized I had no photo with which to illustrate this article. Thus the bite mark.)

It wasn’t lost on me that most of the candy apples of my youth had been bought in this very location, at the annual Central Canada Exhibition, or as it’s been known for longer than I’ve been around, the Ex. They’ve been trying to move the Ex out of Lansdowne Park for years now and if the current commercial/residential/entertainment/sports redevelopment goes through — bringing back professional football and introducing professional soccer to a rebuilt/refurbished stadium — the Ex will finally HAVE to move.

But back to this rosy red treat.

Throughout my youth, the candy apple was associated with circuses, the Ex and it’s rural counterpart, fall fairs. It later cropped up in some stores, but I refused to buy there. Without the right atmosphere, they just weren’t the same. They lost a specialness when too readily available. Besides, the apples inside store-bought candy apples were often terrible. Unfortunately, even at the proper sources mentioned above, the apples were sometimes merely something to dip into the candy mixture and little, if any, care was taken in obtaining good apples.

After all, it was a kid’s treat and all the kid was really interested in was the candy.

Wrong!

In my day, good apples were highly valued by us kids. Long before some sadistic fools used razor blades to spoil the practice of giving apples — along with candy — at Halloween, apples were legitimate booty, and actually welcomed by trick-or-treating kids.

I also remember Apple Day when Cubs and Scouts went door-to-door selling apples to raise funds. As an eager participant, I found it a fun event. And if one got hungry walking the streets and ringing doorbells, well there were refreshing snacks — fresh, great-tasting apples — readily at hand.

Our family not only bought apples at the Byward Market by the bushel basket, but spotting isolated apple trees along the back roads was a seasonal part of family Sunday drives.

Needless to say these memories made THIS candy apple especially delicious. It didn’t hurt that the point of purchase was also selling fresh fruit, including apples. So this one was VERY good. Almost as good as the candy coating. Actually better than some candy coatings I remember. But this candy coating was of matching excellence.

Though I waited at least a day before eating this candy apple, I didn’t put it in the fridge. Cold can make the candy coating hard and brittle, to the point that biting into the coating can be akin to chewing glass.

By the time I got to savouring this treat, the coating was a little soft, and super sticky trying to get it out of its clear plastic wrap. What I didn’t realize until happening to look down while eating was that some portion of the coating was actually melting — enough for a couple of very sticky spots on my clean and fortunately dark-coloured T-shirt.

But that wasn’t to say the coating was mushy. Far from it. In fact it had just the right crisp crackle that I so like. What also helped was that the coating was super thin. (Too thick and it’s like biting into hard candy.)

Neither was the apple the least bit mushy. Nor too hard. And as thin as the coating was, it was as rich in its kind of flavour, as was the apple.

In fact the combination of the sweet, crackling candy and the denser, softer apple was just about perfect. And that’s not nostalgia talking. I may have purchased this apple for old times sake but this particular candy apple more than lived up to my memories of a really good candy apple.

Oh that distinctive crunch. Oh the wonderful combination of textures and flavours.

And having not put it in the fridge, the thick rim around the top — the bottom when the coating is hardening — was not the teeth grinding, hard-as-nails, throw it away, block of candy of lesser candy apples of my youth.

No this one was a pure delight — to the spirit for the memories it revived and to the palate for the quality someone put into this special treat.

What’s that I hear? The sound of drooling?