Even after more than a decade in Colorado, fall still makes me yearn for Vermont: crisp, tart McIntosh apples, beautifully balanced local apple cider, and warm apple cider doughnuts.

I probably didn’t spell “doughnut” correctly on a consistent basis until high school. A pervasive New England coffee chain might have been partially to blame. Come autumn, I was too busy savoring freshly fried apple cider doughnuts to care much about spelling anyway.

With the pandemic continuing to hamper everything, including Vermont apple shipments to homesick East Coasters, we made do with what we had.