Thanks to all for sharing your insight and expertise on drying figs. The harvest season will be over within the next week in this area. I’m going to try drying some apples with the dehydrator. My sister sent me a poem from the old days about dried apples. I think you will enjoy the poem.
Bob
Dried Apple Pies – A Poem
I loathe, abhor, detest, despise, Abominate dried apple pies.
I like good bread, I like good meat, Or anything that’s fit to eat,
But of all poor grub beneath the skies, The poorest is dried apple pies.
Give me a toothache, or sore eyes, But don’t give me dried apple pies.
The farmer takes his gnarliest fruit, ‘tis wormy, bitter, and hard, to boot;
He leaves the hulls to make us cough, And don’t take half the peelings off.
And then a dirty cord ‘tis strung, And in a garret window hung,
And there it serves as roost for flies, Until it’s made up into pies.
Tread on my corns or tell me lies, But don’t pass me dried apple pies.
Author Unknown