In the corner of the pantry

We cleaned out Grandma's pantry. Old beans, canned beets, boxes of noodles.. it was well-stocked. The wooden sleves had marks where cans had slid into familiar rows over and over like consistent for decades. We cleaned it out. The expired lentils. The sprouting potatos. Even the long neglected sad-looking beets. In the back was a jar of Apple Cider jelly.

It looked like a jar of coal tar. It was black and fairly old. My cousin informed me that the orchard that made it no longer operated. I took it home for a taste. The blackness concerned me. It could have turned. The blackness might not be carmelized fructose but actually be black mold spores that could kill me.

I tasted it anyway. It was strong strong strong. The apple taste was so concentrated as to over power any mortal muffin, and simple pancake. Somehow in it's veractity it no longer tasted like apple as far as the image of apple allowed in my mind which made be debate why intensity would do such a thing to an idea. But it certainly did. and it did taste good. I tried diluting it in simple syrup but it was too mighty. It's in my pantry now calling me thru the cheap particle board facade. Nothing tastes like this but real apple cider jelly. Nothing. I haven't tried the phone number. I may yet see if they have a few left rollign around in their own pantry.