I just ate the freshest, juiciest peach for lunch, compliments of Stephenson’s Orchard at U.S. 40 and Lee’s Summit Road. It’s time for you to stop in and support your local orchard, as the peach season ends in just a couple of weeks and the apple season begins. With more than 25 acres of peaches and 45 acres of apples, this fourth-generation, family-owned-and-operated fruit farm has its own cider mill.
And like many of you, I can’t help but feel a passionate twinge in my spirit when I think about Stephenson’s Old Apple Farm Restaurant, a business begun in 1946 by Les and Loyd Stephenson. The Stephenson brothers opened a 10-booth luncheonette that became an empire known for its apple fritters, green rice casserole, apple dumplings, parker house rolls and themed dining rooms. When the restaurant closed in 2007, I felt as though I had lost an old friend. Thankfully, the fruit farm has continued to provide our community with fresh produce and its famed apple butter and apple cider.
You see, it all began one summer afternoon in 1984, when my sister and I met Joel, the hiring manager in the sweltering kitchen of Stephenson’s Old Apple Farm Restaurant. Hired to be trained to work in the kitchen of the Red Mule Inn that was under construction across the street, (where the Big Biscuit is now), our education and training began.
Arriving early every morning, we quickly timed in, adorned aprons and netted hats and started the day’s work. We were first trained by a lovely lady who taught us how to make the salads and the signature “cheese” carrot. We took soft pieces of cheese and rolled them into a carrot shape, and then inserted fresh sprigs of parsley on top. Then, we carefully garnished each dinner salad with this colorful “cheese” carrot. We both doubled over with laughter too many times to count because our carrots looked more like blobs from the old movie “The Blob.”
The kitchen staff soon realized that Joel had hired a duo of the most silly kind who laughed all day while peeling, chopping, rolling and sweating. Our co-workers eventually became used to our screams of laughter, realizing there were no injuries – no cut fingers, no slips or falls – only two goofballs rolling on the tile floor unable to breathe from fits of laughter. Thank you, Joel, wherever you are, for not firing us that summer. I wonder if Loyd and Les had this much fun. My hunch is they did!