Midnight Smack BY FU

One of my dad’s very-used phrases.

And generally with a tart, tart, TART green apple in his hand and a paring knife in the other. He’d slice off a wedge, grab the salt shaker and add a liberal dose.

I loved green apples (I think) and a sprinkle of salt (yes, salt for sure).

I say *think* because it may be that I was also trying to be like him. He was pretty cool in a quiet, mysterious sort of way. He didn’t talk much, but he had a dry sense of humor that even as a kid I took notice of. I may have acquired that. Or I hope I did. I have cousins, though, who did for sure.

But I truly did—and do—like apples.

As a kid, given a choice of a Hostess treat, while the Twinkies and cupcakes were tempting, my go-to was always the apple pie.

The first pie I attempted to make was apple. I was probably 9 or 10.

Though I thought it was perfect, I later learned the crust was thick on the edges and dry, while the also-thick bottom was woefully underbaked. The apples somewhat followed suit—thick and undercooked.

My dad ate it though.

I do know someone who can make a perfect apple pie.

And actually knows a lot about apples.

Hillary Diede from Blossom Hill Apple Orchard.

Hillary was—well, actually *is*—a trained chef.

Hillary grew up in Rochester, Minnesota. She attended the Apicius School of International Hospitality in Florence, Italy, where she earned a degree in culinary arts. She brought her skills back home and worked at several restaurants, including some of the best restaurants in Rochester.

One of those best restaurants was ZZest Cafe and Market.

Before coming to ZZest, Hillary worked and lived in Colorado, and it was during her time there that she reconnected with Dane Diede, who I believe she actually went to high school with. Don’t quote me. Anyway, they were good friends.

Back at ZZest, I loved watching Hillary in the kitchen. She was mostly behind the cheese counter and was tasked with all the new ideas I had. I was on a mission to somehow grow and keep the business afloat.

It seems running a market with a huge cheese case and an attached cafe just wasn’t enough.

Like 99.9% of my ideas, none of them stuck.

But not because of Hillary.

I wanted a Grab-and-Go section of ready-to-reheat-at-home dinners. Hillary jumped in with both feet, and in the case were gorgeous braised lamb shanks, huge pieces of Italian sausage lasagna and bowls of colorful salads.

Sadly, I ate those lovely lamb shanks with couscous salad, goat cheese and dried cherries on the regular, as my job is always to eat the things past their Best By date.

As enamored as I was by the skill it took to make them and the deliciousness of all these items, they just didn’t sell.

I tried that idea over and over, with and without Hillary, and it never worked.

Go figure.

Another time I tasked her to go with me to an art festival in Cannon Falls. The goal: set up a food truck with basically a utility van.

In my mind I saw it clearly. A smattering of ZZest Market items to represent the market, Moroccan pulled pork sandwiches, some great chips…

Oh, and we would scoop ice cream, of course!

What was I thinking?

Especially—ice cream.

We ended up emptying a chest freezer, filling it full of ice cream and shoving it in the back of a van. Later to be plugged in when we arrived.

That part actually worked.

I just knew people would be so impressed, we wouldn’t even be able to keep up with all the sales. What a sad day it would be for any other food trucks that were there.

The day was 95 degrees with 105% humidity. It took a huge amount of strength and energy to set up and take down. I did it all in a stupid pair of flip-flops, which later gave me plantar fasciitis for the next three months.

I don’t think I’ve worn flip-flops since.

In the end, not. A. Thing. sold from the market.

Lunch sales were maybe two pulled pork sandwich plates and one scoop of ice cream.

You would think my dreams would be dashed.

Oh no…

I’m an idea person.

I knew the problem.

We needed an actual food truck.

Hillary sat with me while I discussed buying one. I dreamed up something slightly nuts; Hillary figured out how to make it edible.

Thank goodness that never transpired.

But one of my next ideas didn’t just come from me. Approached by Pork and Plants, we were offered their farm to host a farm dinner.

Pork and Plants is in Altura, Minnesota. Picturesque hardly describes how that event looked. It was a perfect 72 degrees on a September evening, not a mosquito in sight.

We hired a trolley to bring out our guests. The idea was they would walk through the farm and stop at food stations along the way.

First up was in the poinsettia greenhouses. I set up cheese and charcuterie. Plus an array of wines.

The next stop was wood-fired pizzas.

Hillary single-handedly pulled off cooking and serving pizza. She rolled, pulled and expertly guided the pizzas into the wood-burning oven so bubbles formed and a couple got that signature char.

As soon as the last pizza was served, she moved down to the main attraction.

Dinner was under the big white tent with twinkle lights. The long tables were covered in white tablecloths. Baskets of bread, jars of jam and votive candles went down the center.

We served roasted pork, likely with collards—not necessarily a BBQ something. I don’t recall, but it was much more interesting than your standard bottled BBQ sauce. Hillary literally whipped up several amazing side salads and likely the dessert as well.

It was all served family-style.

It happened that Nancy Wekselbaum and her husband were at Mayo and she was able to attend. Nancy owns Gracious Gourmet in Bridgewater, Connecticut. She has a wonderful line of jams and spreads that I still carry to this day.

When I reconnect with Nancy from time to time, she always fondly remembers that farm dinner night.

It was magical.

Live music, string lights and little children dancing.

It was perfect.

Sadly, like most things I do, it did nothing for our checkbook.

I know…not all things can be measured by money. And the fact that I got a chance to wear my green cowboy boots all night and my feet felt fine the next day was worth it right there.

As always, never letting those disappointments stop me, I continued to dream—with Hillary in first place to execute.

Then she needed a vacation.

How dare she? HAHA.

Off she went to visit her friend Dane in Colorado.

“Dane Diede?” I asked.

“Just a good friend,” she told me.

A week or so later Hillary was back behind the cheese counter, and the very next day a big bouquet of flowers was delivered to her.

Guess who from?

Dane Diede.

I knew it—and voiced it at the time—that her time at ZZest was over.

She denied it.

But yeah…

Cupid’s arrow had struck.

Hillary packed up and moved to Colorado.

A year or so later she returned for her wedding and, true to Hillary style, she cooked and baked part of the menu herself. It was a farmhouse wedding with hand pies for dessert.

It too was magical.

Later, Dane and Hillary bought an apple orchard in Preston, Minnesota. Blossom Hill Orchard and Farm.

And now, two kids later and two orchards, she is off and flying, and I couldn’t be more proud. I feel simply blessed to have spent all of that creative food time with her.

My intention was always to do a full-on interview with her.

But as mentioned: two kids and two apple orchards—and a bakery stocked with pies, muffins, caramel apples and cookies, and a whole little shop.

She’s busy.

Add Apple Cider Slushies and Apple Cider Donuts to that! Just a couple of easy additions.

So, she’s pretty much too busy to answer more than a couple of questions.

But I got a couple in.

ME: Do you have a favorite apple? I mean, I get it. I have a hard time choosing a favorite cheese.

HILLARY: First Kiss is my current fave, moving on to EverCrisp later in the season.

ME: How about for baking?

HILLARY: First Kiss, EverCrisp or B-51. The apples still need to hold their shape when baked. Both have a unique sweet and tart flavor. For pies I always mix two apples together—one that cooks up and another that holds its shape. Old classics are my favorite, like Haralson, McIntosh and First Kiss.

ME: The first time I had a slushy was when I took my mom out for a little ride one afternoon. She loved it.

HILLARY: They are the perfect treat when apple picking.

ME: You have a second orchard now in Lake City, right?

HILLARY: Yes. Lake City is mostly for wholesale. We sell and pack in-house in Elgin, where they are washed and graded. From there they head to larger stores like Hy-Vee and Target.

ME: I don’t know if you remember this Fall Festival I tried to pull off at ZZest.

Visually, it was great. A little farmers market plus cheese samples and Honey Butter samples right outside the main door of ZZest. Then inside, food stations and wine tasting. I brought in hay bales and mums. The best part was on the patio—a fun, toe-tapping bluegrass band, Pistol Whipping Penguin Party.

About 25 people attended. Haha.

I believe you have something coming up with that band!

HILLARY: Yes, Apple Jam at the Orchard, Saturday, October 3. All-day music featuring the Pistol Whipping Party Penguins. And more. Food, beer, cider. Kids’ play area.

ME: Oh my gosh, I love everything about this.

And Apple Jam. Come on…

Jam like a music jam AND jam like what you eat?

Super cute.

So Hillary.

Thanks for squeezing in a few questions for me, Hillary. I know you’ve got apples to pick, pies to bake, kids to raise…and apparently a music festival to put on.

You all have to mark your calendars and check this one out!

Here’s the link for tickets!!!

So in the end, Hillary went from working behind a cheese counter to running two orchards.

Whew!

But if anyone could pull all that off, she could.

And me?

Still doing what I love.

But I just figured out why, when I see lamb shanks on a menu, JZ won’t share them with me.

I still love lamb shanks though.

I still love flip-flops but have never worn a pair again for more than an hour or so.

Those green cowboy boots?

Also retired.

I still talk to Nancy from time to time, and she still tells me how much fun she had at the farm dinner.

And I’m beginning to realize all those crazy ideas, though they didn’t accomplish what I wanted them to at the time, ended up being what I cash in on now.

They gave me memories. They paved the way for others to accomplish their dreams.

And they gave me stories to tell.

How do you like them apples?

Look what I found?! An article about the ZZest Dinner at Pork and Plants. Should you feel like a bit more reading check it out here.