Adam's Apples

This week I have augmented my hoard of apples with two pecks of winter fruit. With some gaps, I expect my supply to take me through to April. The acquisitions are a half peck each of Cripps Pink ("Pink Lady" to you) and Blushing Golden , and a whole peck of GoldRush .

Gnarly Pippins is both website and nom-de-pomme of site author Matt Kaminsky. Kaminsky (aka Pippins) was profiled this past fall in the Boston Globe . He brings an enthusiasm for wild apples in the spirit of  Henry David Thoreau . Kaminsky's layered, meditative prose style also reminds me of apple-blogger Chris's Life of Apples (on hiatus, perhaps permanently).

There are tens of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of Gala trees in the world today.  ¶  They are clones, genetically identical to the first Gala bred in New Zealand and grown from seed nearly 100 years ago. Indeed, they are that tree, in that each is a link in an unbroken chain of living tissue from the mother tree, grafted and regrafted onto countless sets of roots .

This week marked the last of my Baldwins and Ashmead's Kernels. The Ashmead's were in top form this year, the Baldwins not so much but still worthwhile.

In Massachusetts, the day before the American Thanksgiving is the last for shoppers seeking produce and other goods direct from the farm.

The 2020 harvest, plagued by pandemic and drought, has not been a total bust. The selection at farmers market has been limited. The Baldwins were not so great this year. However, Cox, Ashmead, and Stayman have been particularly good. Alas, barring some last-minute discoveries, this is not going to be a big year for new apple reviews.

A tasting table at Clarkdale Farm in less fraught times (Cider Days 2016).  ¶  The season's traditional gatherings of apple and cider enthusiasts are virtual this year, in Maine, Western Massachusetts, and Colorado.

This is the last week of the year for many suburban farmers markets.

The fall of an apple, historical records suggests, did set Isaac's Newton's mind to work on the problem of gravity. There is no evidence, however, that fruit met noggin. The pomological record on the presumed apple, Flower of Kent , is murkier. Let's take these in order.

The doughty and dense  Blue Pearmain  is the apple of choice to power me through a 50-mile bike ride. It feeds the legs even as it challenges the jaw. Below, the blue fella on the wharf in lovely Mattapoisett yesterday (mile 25):

Today's treat is a new variety from New York's fruit-breeding program at Cornell University. Its handsome red blush, streaky, russet-blasted, and set off by distinctive light lenticel dots, is complex and pleasing. The underlying yellow, edged with green, shows through to degrees in some regions. There are patches of russet in the recess around stem and calyx (which is closed).

These apples are enormous. The smallest one in the bin (shown) is merely large. Pink Luster, a new variety from Cornell, is conical and ribbed, a cheerful yellow with an uneven dark pink-fuschia blush. It is tapered and prominently ribbed, has a thick stem in a deep stem well, and is decorated with small light lenticel dots.

Many fine old apples come into their own in October.  Without planning to do so, I've been gorging on four varieties from my home state of Massachusetts. These are, clockwise from upper left:

Left to right are Ashmead's Kernel , Wickson , Macoun , Cox's Orange Pippin , and Chestnut Crab .

A funny thing happened when I retasted this apple: some flavors changed, and some harshness declined. Before 2009, Autumn Crisp was still an experimental variety known as NY 674. A local grower planted some and dubbed them " Early Jonagold ." That nickname was how I first knew them in 2011. Since then, the variety has gone mainstream under its marketing name, Autumn Crisp. I saw plenty of them in supermarkets this spring. The apple I tasted in 2011 , despite its virtues, could never be popular enough for that. So here is a revised review (fresh from a local orchard).

The rattle is back in Cox's. Go ahead and shake this fall's haul of the exquisite Cox's Orange Pippin .  Some  rattle  as the seeds inside the apple knock together. The quality of this year's Cox's is also especially good.

PANDEMIC MARKET REPORT Farmers market in late September is still great. Compared to other years, though, there are fewer kinds of apples for sale there. My photo shows an even dozen, raising the question, just how many do you need anyway?

Spoiler: the cherry is there. Boy howdy, is it ever. Since I first tasted Sweet 16 in 2011 , I have been searching in vain for its signature flavors, mainly an "in your face" cherry candy. Also, sometimes, almond and anise. There was a little cherry in the one I tried in 2018 , but nothing approaching the intensity and saturation, the unmistakable presence, of the twizzler candy that so many of my readers report. (Check out the comments on those older posts!) I'm therefore especially pleased to say that my 2020 sample has all that and more.

Heads up! This apple, according to a charming story, is the same variety that conked Isaac Newton's noggin in 1666. It might even be true.

Little Wickson catches the breeze with a particularly magnificent Macoun .

Today I learned that Pixie Crunch, a modern variety less than 30 years old, is an "heirloom" apple because, apparently, it is not Honeycrisp , Gala , or Red Delicious ( Not, by the way.) My two tasting samples are small and medium, slightly oblate spheres with no appreciable ribbing.  These attractive compact apples are rock hard in my hand with a stripey red blush. Tiny, distinct tan lenticel dots lend a visual accent.

Some u-picks are by appointment this fall, and others have redesigned their corn mazes to permit social distancing, according to the  New York Times .

These maps of climate change got me thinking: The graphics is from a story in the trade publication Good Fruit Grower entitled "Turning Up the Heat Raises Risks for Ag Workers." The story covers a recent study that prescribes best heat-beating practices (such as clothing types and incentivizing hydration) to protect agricultural workers. All good points—really good points—but also This pub for growers makes a very good point about heat and farmworker safety. Misses a scarier one about future fruit crops 1/5 https://t.co/Y3i3GER6mJ — Adam's Apples (@adapples) August 24, 2020

It is August and I do not need to be mucking about with apples from last year that are just (let's face it) not going to be very good now. I've already had some great (and fresh!) Pristine and Paula Red this month. There are other early apples about with more on the way. But McIntosh (left) is a fall icon, and Empire (right) is one of my go-to apples in the impoverished springtime. Supermarkets here have both of them today. So let's see which of these two old warhorses have fared better over the fall, winter, spring, and half of summer.

There is a charming antique Russian apple called Yellow Transparent, also called White Transparent, of surprising sophistication if you get good ones.  That's challenging as this early August variety is at peak for about 45 minutes. Almost nobody grows it these days, which is a shame, but there are two modern varieties that sort of fill the same niche.

Socially distanced farmers market, Arlington, July 21 When I started this blog twelve years ago last week , I had no idea where it would go or take me. In this uncertain and fearful time, that is more true than ever. To my readers, again: thank you, take care, take special care, and be well. And, watch this space.

APPLE DATABASE Feel like an apple? The National Gardening Association (U.S.) lists 1532 of them (as of this writing), with more added regularly.

LOVE THE ONES YOU'RE WITH Lemonade , above, is a right good apple, well balanced and eminently worth choosing . But the main reason I was glad to see this variety last month is geographic. My Lemonades grew in New Zealand and were picked in the spring. They are half a year fresher than the other apples in stores today. And, you can taste it.

A passing mention of this blog on the website of an obscure tech company has led to some very welcome attention. (Hi everyone! Check me out !) Alas, it has also brought comment spam in force. For the time being, I am moderating all comments here.

A cool spring has left the trees wearing their party finery as late as today. (Carlson Orchard, Harvard Massachusetts)

There's really no rationale for comparing these two sturdy varieties except that I am apt to turn to them to brighten up the apple-bleak springtime. Though the two apples were developed in New Zealand, today's samples grew in the U.S., almost certainly in Washington state. In better times fresh versions of these apples harvested in the southern hemisphere in March or April would be entering American supermarkets.

The kernels are ready to pop at Nagog Hill Farm yesterday.

A really good apple I sampled back in 2015 is finally seeing the light of day here. On the small side of medium, this attractive yellow apple sports a partial orange-bronze blush on the sunward side. It has many tiny lenticels, some quite dark, but the most striking feature are several small round splotches of saturated red, like drops of paint. There is some of this in both blushed and unblushed regions, and some of the lenticels are similarly colored.

Who's your daddy? EverCrisp's pollen parent is Fuji. Today we are tasting two related varieties harvested last fall and purchased this month in supermarkets. They are not at peak, but both are sturdy, crunchy varieties bred to survive long-term storage and handling.

EverCrisp is the Midwest Apple Improvement Association's entry into the Honeycrisp Succession Derby . I found it in my local supermarket this month. How well does this variety, ever crisp, weather the wholesale chain? My other samples were all direct from local growers (and earlier). I bought three, emblazoned with PLU stickers, to find out.

If you are missing fresh apples this winter as much as I am, you might enjoy a video slide show of red-fleshed apples from the USDA watercolor collection. Thanks to Bill Lyon , a Twitter friend, for pulling this together.

Eliza Greenman reports the sad news: It is with a heavy heart to report the passing of C. Lee Calhoun, Southern apple hunter. Calhoun is the author of Old Southern Apples . For many years he and his wife, Edith, operated a nursery that was a source of rare and regional apple varieties. Greenman met Calhoun several times. Her account includes more about the man, his life, and his devotion to apples.

I rate apples from one to three stars. Once a year at this time , I add ratings for recent finds and make adjustments. In 2019, I tasted 16 apples for the first time, and resampled some others. Here's my verdict.

Orange: you would really have to call this flame-colored apple orange, or at least halfway there from red. This as-yet unnamed apple ("633" is just a placeholder) has an uneven blush over yellow, marked in places with many tan lenticel dots. It is largish and classically shaped, with a deep stemwell that swallows most of the thick stem. There is a small amount of ribbing.

Isn't this pretty? Large medium, with a deep crimson red that covers every place except a few shade spots, which are yellow. The color is a little lighter, pastel-like, just around the base. Tiny light dots accent the saturated blush, and there is a satiny sheen.

These classically shaped apples run medium to large with next to no ribbing. Lenticel dots are dark when russeted, as most are, but otherwise hard to see against the yellow peel. The stem, absent from my photographed example, is long and thin. One of the apples has a green tint in the yellow. A honey-sweet aroma suggests Golden Delicious ancestry.

Today's apple is another from the Midwest Apple Improvement Association . It is large and blocky and a little ribbed, and feels firm and substantial. Its red blush is tinted with a dollop of orange and is accented by large tanned dots. The unblushed area is a light yellow, and the peel is attractively glossy. The stem well is quite deep, and at the other end the calyx is partially open.

This is a large apple, a little broad in the beam but still slightly tapered. It has a subdued "dusty" orange-red blush that is a kind of streaky over light lemon yellow. The streaks are streaked with a very fine brush.

There was an apple I wanted to know more about. So, last September, I asked about it at the orchard's store. That's when it happened. "There's this website," the woman behind the counter told me, apple fan to apple fan.  "Adam's Apples." That had never happened to me before. It was kind of cool.