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Ouadie Rhabbouron

Ingredients

Main ingredients
  • 2000Ā gramsĀ 2 kilos of applesĀ Choose a mix of sweet and tart apples for the best flavor.
  • 0.5Ā piecesĀ Juice of half a lemonĀ Prevents browning of the apples.
  • 1Ā tablespoonĀ 1 tablespoon of sugar per jarĀ Adjust according to taste.
  • to tasteĀ WaterĀ To fill the jars.

Method

Preparation
  1. Wash and cut the 2 kilos of apples into small pieces.
  2. In a bowl of water, add the juice of half a lemon to prevent browning. Soak the cut apples for 5 minutes.
  3. Prepare 3 clean glass jars of 500 ml each.
Filling Jars
  1. For each jar, add 1 tablespoon of sugar.
  2. Fill the jars with drinking water, leaving some space at the top.
  3. Close the jars tightly with clean lids and shake gently to dissolve the sugar.
Cooking
  1. Place a clean cloth in a deep pot and put the jars inside.
  2. Fill the pot halfway with water, then bring it to a boil over high heat.
  3. Once boiling, reduce to medium heat and let it cook for 15 minutes.
  4. Remove from heat and let the jars sit in the water for 2-3 hours to cool down.
Storage
  1. After cooling, store the jars in the refrigerator.

Notes

For a spiced version, consider adding a cinnamon stick to the jars before sealing. Ensure jars are sterilized properly for long-lasting freshness.

 

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ā€œI married a woman thirty years older than meā€”despite my familyā€™s strong objections. But on our wedding night, I uncovered a secret that changed everything. My name is Arjun Mehra. Iā€™m twenty years old, about 180 cm tall, and currently in my second year at one of New Delhiā€™s top universities. Until recently, my life was simpleā€”classes, exams, and future plans. That all changed the day I met Kavita Rao. She was sixtyā€”graceful, composed, and impossible to ignore. Once the owner of a successful chain of luxury restaurants in Mumbai, she had stepped away from business and lived a quiet, private life. We met at a charity event in Gurugram. While others tried to stand out with loud conversations and laughter, Kavita remained calm and reserved. Her silver hair reflected the light, and her presence alone drew attention without effort. A few days later, she invited me to her mansion in South Delhi for tea. What I expected to be a short, polite visit turned into hours of meaningful conversation. She spoke openly about her lifeā€”early success, a marriage that ended without conflict, and a loneliness that lingered despite her achievements. She had everythingā€”wealth, status, respectā€”except someone to truly share it with. Somewhere in those conversations, I realized I cared deeply for her. Not because of what she owned, but because she understood life in a way most people my age didnā€™t. Three months later, during a rainy evening, I told her I wanted to spend my life with herā€”no matter the age difference. The backlash was immediate. My family accused me of being after her money. My father called it disgraceful. My mother cried for days. Friends whispered behind my back. Eventually, I chose to walk away from all of them. We got married at her villa, with only a few of her close business associates present. I was the youngest person in the roomā€”and I could feel every judgmental glance. That night, alone together as husband and wife, the atmosphere felt heavy and quiet. Kavita sat beside me and handed me a thick folder. Inside were documentsā€”properties in Mumbai, ownership papers, and keys to a luxury car. I was overwhelmed. ā€œI donā€™t want any of this,ā€ I told her. ā€œThatā€™s not why I married you.ā€ She studied me carefully before speaking, her tone calm but firm. ā€œArjun, you need to understand something,ā€ she said. ā€œLoneliness isnā€™t the only reason I chose you. I need someone to carry on what Iā€™ve built.ā€ Her words unsettled me. She explained that she had no children, and her wealthā€”worth hundreds of croresā€”would otherwise fall into the hands of distant relatives waiting for their chance. ā€œI want it to go to you,ā€ she said quietly. ā€œBut thereā€™s one condition.ā€ The room suddenly felt smaller. My voice tightened as I asked, ā€œWhat condition?ā€ She held my gaze steadilyā€¦ and began to explain.