Bite Me *

In the 17th Century, left-wing puritans would frequently find themselves before magistrates for disrupting church services, refusing to pay tithes, and otherwise resisting the public order.

Then they would dig deeper holes for themselves by addressing the judge with the egalitarian "thee" instead of the respectful "you."

It is perhaps in this spirit that Steven Edholm, the originator of today's apple, informs me that the correct spelling is, all caps, "BITE ME!" including an obligatory exclamation point.

I have already weighed in on who gets to punctuate around here, but while you reflect on the merits of such a claim, let's take a look at the goods.

Red over yellow

Steven sent me two of these, small and medium. Both are cylindrical with flattish tops and bottoms and just about nothing in the way of ribbing.

The calyx is clenched tight and noticeably recessed, and inside that recess the surface of the apple is curiously crinkled.

These have a streaky, if nonetheless dark, red blush that is striking, within which small light lenticels twinkle.

The larger version has distinct unblushed patches, marking where branch or leaf or fellow fruit provided permanent shade. These reveal the cheerful light yellow color of the peel.

Biting the Bite

Bite Me's flesh is moderately crisp, a medium-fine light yellow, and a bit on the sweet side though pleasantly balanced.

Of the two samples, one was mild and the other very flavorful.

Based on Steven's own account, I guess the milder version is the typical one.

There is a malt note that bleeds a little into a grainy nuttiness, and fruit candy that does not. The fruit note is more berry-like than anything else.

The malt present early and there is a nutty, savory undertone to the entire chew.

These unusual flavors marry well and, in one sample anyway, are strong and saturated.

Bite Me is Exhibit A in Steven's argument that apple breeding is a lot more straightforward than conventional wisdom says. Consider the apple's name as a retort.

I should very much like it if the next apple revolution—the one that overthrows Honeycrisp and his brood—should be about flavor in the same way that King Honeycrisp's was about sugar and crunch.

Should this ever come to pass, Bite Me would fit right in to the new world order. At least some of the time.

Given Bite Me's malt, and Steven's California locale, it comes as no surprise to learn that the variety comes of an open-pollinated Wickson.

That which we call a rose

Steven has put the apple into the public domain, which means you could grow it if you got some budwood. He warns it's susceptible to scab, however.

As for that name, Steven is sanguine about the fate of his preferred typography:

The truth is that the exclamation point and caps probably won’t stick and in a living language, there is little anyone can do to maintain usage or convention if culture goes in another direction. That’s fine with me. But, it’s still BITE ME!

Names are funny things. According to a story, one of those renegade Puritans defiantly told an English judge to "tremble before God."

The judge disdainfully replied, "You are the quaker, not I."

It was intended as a pejorative, but the name stuck. So, we'll see about those capitals.