Apple Polishing

Apple Polishing

by Jaye Melino

My mom tells a story about how her stoic father used to polish every apple until it gleamed before giving it to her. That story had always stuck with me, and I never really got why until I contemplated that same phenomenon in my grandmother. My grandmother is a sweet, thoughtful and well-meaning woman. She is the quintessential ‘sweet old lady’. I love her for her Boston Cream Pie, Vegetable Soup, her macaroni and cheese, and her meatballs. There was always food in her refrigerator, a reflection of her so-called “well-stocked larder.” My grandfather was sent out nearly daily to do grocery shopping. Despite her incessant stomach problems, my grandma is a woman who appreciates food to the full extent of her ability, but appreciates even more the act of giving it to someone.

Every time we visited, my mother and I would be sent away from their house on Sunday evenings with a paper bag full of snacks for our trip and for restocking our empty refrigerator. Everything would be carefully and exquisitely packed. Two tuna fish sandwiches wrapped in perfect plastic bags, bags of chips that she had specially collected from Panera for us. But what struck me were the bananas—two or three of them would be placed in a plastic bag that was tied to leave it full of air so that the bananas would remain perfectly yellow. They were the most flawless Chiquita bananas that I had ever set eyes on.

She always included desert for us. This was another aspect of her generosity that I had never pondered before; the desert she included wasn’t even her own cooking. This was a huge sacrifice for her. They were Wegmans chocolate cupcakes—full of Trans fats and wonderful, wonderful sugar. My grandparents froze them and unthawed them specifically for me. My grandfather bought licorice because he knew that my mother and I enjoyed it, and they made lemonade together for our short trips to Syracuse.

Until I puzzled over these small but poignant details, I never understood how much my grandparents cared for me. I realize now that these small offerings of food were the most emphatic ‘I love yous’ ever uttered by grandparents to their grandchildren. Though not outpourings of familial affection or bequeathing priceless family heirlooms, apple polishing and cake baking can be the grandest of gestures when performed by those who love you.