Most were crabapples, too small and tart to be of much culinary use apart from making pectin; one old tree, though, had dropped a treasure trove of plum-sized golden fruits all over the forest ride. They were tart, but not overly so; like little cooking apples rather than the overwhelming sourness of a crab apple. We couldn't help but stop and gather some up:
Ant washed them and chopped them up, looked up a recipe, added sugar and butter and made some sweet shortcrust pastry. This evening we ate the most delicious, and unexpected, apple pie.