Spring forward, Fall back.  Yes, less than 48 hours ago it was that special time of year that we all look forward to (starting that Spring morning we move the clocks forward an hour)…we moved our clocks back an hour.  What kind of weirdos are we that we get this excited about moving our clocks back an hour?

Are we excited about this because it’s the one day a year we get to ‘outsmart’ the time and space continuum by getting a 1 hour do-over or an extra hour to prove our worth to humanity by improving someone else’s life?  Of course I realize that none of us are Marty McFly with virtually unlimited time on our hands to go back and forth through time but hey, we get an hour to do something.  So what did you do?

I contemplated watching some new show, that I haven’t gotten around to on my DVR.  That way, if it really sucked and I wanted that hour of my life back again, I could actually get it.  Plus, there’s the added bonus that I’d have one more hour available to tape some other craptacular show that I probably shouldn’t clutter my mind with.

Or, I could get an hour head start on the stuff I had to do on Sunday.  Maybe, for a change I’d get everything on my “to do” list done.  (A girl can dream can’t she?)  I could paint my nails or do a pedicure on my horribly ugly hooves.  I could take that hour and put it to good use by finally updating my Facebook/Twitter/Tumblr/Flikr page so that it finally looks the way I want it to.  I could go to a charity website, that I’ve been meaning to get to, and donate some money.  I could clean out my closets and bag up my old stuff to donate to Goodwill.  Or I could make my husband happy by donning some skimpy lingerie and rock his world (of course the real way to rock his world would be to shut my mouth and not talk for an hour).

So what important thing did I do with that hour you ask?  I slept.  I selfishly squandered that hour and added to my sleep bank.  And you know what?  I don’t regret it or feel bad about.  So yeah, I’m probably a horrible person.

I may have squandered my extra hour this weekend on something as trivial as sleep, but I do have something delicious to offer you: crockpot applesauce.  Yes, I make lots of crockpot recipes on this site, and usually they are of the savory nature.  But I actually do make quite a few sweet things in the old crockpot (slow cooker).

I’ve been making homemade applesauce for a really long time.  While there are several applesauce brands out there that actually taste like real apples now, that wasn’t always the case – that’s when and why I started making my own.

Making your own (insert food item here) has always had it’s benefits.  Like…you actually know what goes into it.  But with homemade applesauce it’s even more than that.  You see, I’m a bit picky when it comes to that particular food item.  I want applesauce to taste like real apples.  I know, that doesn’t seem like that much of a stretch, but have you tasted some of those jarred applesauce’s?  Some of them taste like the manufacturer’s have never had an actual apple before packaging up their product and slapping a label on it.

I like my applesauce like I like my peanut butter (not my men) – chunky.  Yes, I compare my food to the types of men I like.  Someday I’ll break it down here.  Crockpot applesauce (or slow cooker applesauce…if you prefer) gives you the opportunity to have good ol’ fashioned chunky applesauce, if that’s how you roll.  Of course, you can always hit the applesauce with a stick blender or put it in the regular blender if you like it smooth.

Homemade applesauce also gives you the opportunity to add additional flavors or different sweeteners if you prefer.  I don’t add any sugar to mine because I start out using apples that I know are already sweet enough.  But adding different kinds of sugars (palm, dark brown, granulated, vanilla sugar) will give you a slightly different kind of flavor.  You can also throw in a cinnamon stick, or two, if you like that rich flavor.  One of my favorite flavor combinations is cranberries and apples.  I like to amp up the tartness a bit so I throw in fresh cranberries to make a cranberry applesauce.

The cranberry applesauce takes on a deep rosy hue (which is why it looks so dark in the pictures).  The cranberries give the tartness of the apples even more depth.  I wouldn’t call this combo mouth puckering, but I like things a little more on the tart side than the sweet side.  Since you’re making your own crockpot applesauce, you could add a touch of sugar to sweeten it to your liking.

Relationship Advice

How to get your guy to get on the same page as you when it comes to picking up the house.

Wait 12 years…and then keep waiting.

I wish I had a wittier answer for you than that, but the reality just isn’t that witty.

When I first met Craig, I used to call him Anal Andy behind his back (and no, not for that reason).  Everything in his apartment was ‘just so.’ Everything had it’s place and every place had its thing.

Mom, I know you think I was a virgin when I got married, so you might want to avert your eyes from this and just skip to the recipe part of the post (the rest of you can stop laughing now…I was a good Catholic girl ).  The first time I spent the night at Craig’s apartment is one I will never forget…and one that I bring up whenever the occasion seems right for it.

I went into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.  So I did my stuff and wiped down the counter and put everything back in its place and sat back down on the couch.  A couple minutes later, Craig is yelling from the bathroom that I need to get in there right now.  No, this wasn’t our first date, but we weren’t dating long enough for him to be yelling at me for, or about, anything.

I walked into the bathroom and asked what was wrong.  He pointed to the towel rack and the hand towel folded and draped over it.  He then asked me if that is the way that I found it.  I replied, “yes it is.”  He grunted at me and adjusted the towel by moving it 1″ to the left (dead center on the bar) and pulled one side of the towel down 1/2″ so that the towel edges were perfectly aligned.  I glared at him and said “you’ve got to be kidding” and walked out.  While yes, it was my first night staying over at his apartment.  It ended up NOT being my first night at his apartment.

Looking back on that event, maybe I overreacted.  Because I haven’t been able to get him to clean up since.

Welcome to My Man's Belly! Leave me a comment and let me know what you think about the site or if there's a recipe you'd like to see here. Have a great day.

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