Adam's Apples

Though not a member of the Legion of Honeycrisp Fans, I understand (and respect) the appeal: an explosively crisp fruit with candy-like sweetness. That's why I do not understand the draw of out-of-season Honeycrisp , which continues to dominate supermarket produce aisles at premium prices.

I was in Boulder (Colorado) for less than 20 minutes when I first heard praise for "western slope Honeycrisps," the best apples in the world. Within the hour, I'd heard it again, from my landlady. She had one ready for me. Best apple in the world: that's debatable. But it was the best Honeycrisp I have ever had. (And we now know what they like to eat in Boulder!)

You knew this was coming, right ? I just ate these guys, and am feeling—sugared out. The spectacular commercial success of Honeycrisp (right) has spawned a generation of challengers. Today comes Cosmic Crisp to claim the Saccharine Crown. If you are a Honeycrisp fan, you've got to be wondering how the challenger stacks up.

Honeycrisp  fresh off the tree is popular and prized. How does it fare four months later?

Who shall dethrone the mighty Honeycrisp? The wolves have been circling for some time around old King Honeycrisp . This variety originated, and still dominates, the niche of super crisp, tooth-achingly sweet apples. Honeycrisp's rival apples aspire to rule the kingdom, not to topple it. To supplant with same-only-better, not to challenge with new tastes and textures. By when did the King get so old? What makes him vulnerable?

You know Honeycrisp (right?) even if you don't follow this blog. If you read my regular reports, perhaps you recall last fall's Evercrisp . As its name suggests, Evercrisp, at right, takes aim at Honeycrisp and seeks to fill its shoes. Not by being boldly different, but by being the same only better. So, this is personal. Let's see how things shake down.

Supply & Demand: But, wow. Just wow. pic.twitter.com/Hfj9tz7pS1 — Adam's Apples (@adapples) September 6, 2017

I'm a fair minded guy so decided to revisit the Great Sugar Bomb, Honeycrisp. No, I'm not a fan—through I do appreciate them in a sort of arms-length abstract way . I've been told that Honeycrisp is not so super sweet in its native Minnesota. Today's apple only hails from Western Massachusetts, but was orchard fresh and different in appearance than the hulking planetoids I have seen in the past. Anyway, I had hopes that my tastebuds would catch a glimpse of something different this time.

In this space, I recently published some misinformation about some research into the breeding ancestry of the Honeycrisp apple. I regret the error. Here is the real story.

Two modern varieties, products of breeding programs rather than chance. At left towers Honeycrisp, the popular sugar bomb that is taking the market by storm. The much-less-well-known challenger at right is Topaz, David to Honeycrisp's Goliath. I pit them against each other because both bring outstandingly crisp, juicy flesh--and fundamentally different flavors.

Left to right: McIntosh, Honeycrisp. On the left, "the Mac," McIntosh, an Ontario foundling, for decades the preeminent apple of the Northeast, successor to Baldwin, sire (and mother) of many varieties, vinous, sweet, and tart. And looming large at right, from the breeding program of the Minnesota Agricultural Experiment Station, surging in popularity, the younger, bigger, and much much sweeter Honeycrisp. Of all my pairings, this head-to-head must be my most antagonistic. Not only is upstart Honeycrisp stealing market share from the venerable Mac, but the Province of Nova Scotia has deployed the big guy as a pomicidal weapon, paying farmers to rip out McIntosh trees and plant Honeycrisp. This is a real grudge match.

Introduced in 1991, this sweet, crisp apple has taken the fruit world by storm.  ¶  If you read these words in September, now is your chance to enjoy Honeycrisp at peak.  ¶  But, may I interest you in some other crisp, sweet apples? Variety is the spice of life.  ¶  Besides, how do you know you like Honeycrisp best if you never try anything else?

Last week the Evil Fruit Lord, proprietor of the Fruit Blog, woke from his hiatus and posted a link to an entertaining news story about up-and-coming, waiting-in-the-wings apple varieties. Welcome back, lord of evil fruit, and did you see your shadow? Buried in the article was this tidbit: By 2005, the province of Nova Scotia was offering subsidies to anyone who ripped out their McIntosh fields and replaced them with Honeycrisps. So, fruit-on-fruit violence? Honeycrisp moving in on McIntosh turf? Ripping out old trees for the promise of gold years down the road? Talk about evil fruit!

Full disclosure: Honeycrisp makes my teeth hurt. Lots of people like the sweet juicy guys, though, and you might too. It's a handsome fruit, running medium-to-large, with a streaky red blush over yellow (to yellow-green). There's a little ribbing and some russet in the stem well, and spots that look light tan against the blush and a darker green where there is none. The surface is a little uneven, with minor pocks and swells, but the effect is not unattractive. Let's eat.