Adam's Apples

A few orchards grow "heirloom" apples. Opalescent, which was introduced in 1880, qualifies as an antique variety. Here's the text of the sign that Volante Farms posted over a bin of these apples: This big, primarily dark red beauty is juicy, firm, and pleasant in flavor. Opalescent was introduced in 1880.

I bought one of these big guys at Volante Farms yesterday. Volante says this about Mutsu: This Japanese apple is a descendant of the Golden Delicious. It is large, spicy, crisp & juicy. Excellent all-purpose apple. Various sources say this is the Crispin apple by another name. Mutsu is bigger and greener than Golden Delicious, whatever its relation. This is a large fruit, almost cylindrical, with definite ribs and a light green-yellow skin. The color varies from green-yellow to yellow-green and has darker green spots perhaps a tenth of an inch across, some with tiny white centers and some with tiny brown ones.

After a flood of early apples, things have slowed down. Last week there were only three varieties for sale at Arlington's farmers market, none new (though the ever-so-sweet Honeycrisps made their debut the week before). Does the end of the early-apple season mean fewer choices? Fall, the traditional apple season, brings many known favorites. Does an apple farmer dare to dabble in little-known fruit when the market wants McIntoshes and Macouns ? Some do. Earlier today I paid a visit to Volante Farms, which had more than a dozen varieties for sale, including a few heirlooms. Volante ( in Needham Heights ) is an apple lover's idea of a farm stand, with each bin of apples helpfully documented. I hope that some of these varieties make it to farmers market this year. As much as I esteem those justly popular Macs, and really love Macouns, variety is the spice in the applesauce of life. We do see Baldwins and Roxbury Russets every year, but of course not until October.

In my eagerness to try the latest fruit, I've been tasting apples as soon as I find them at the market or farm stand. But buying at the very start of an apple's growing season might bias the sample towards greener, tarter, and less-ripe fruit. (For this reason I have refrained from reviewing the early McIntoshes I bought this week, though it is exciting to see them for sale at farmers' market.) I've gone back for a second look at Paula Red, which has been around for more than two weeks, and Red Gravenstein, whose shorter picking season nonetheless spans a week or so.

Gravenstein, and its sporty red sibling, may be the most sophisticated of the early apples. It has a complex taste and there is a Gravenstein Apple Fair in Sebastopol California every August. The medium-sized, modestly ribbed fruit is mostly green with a streaky red blush and tan spots. Its white-green flesh is firm, crisp and juicy. The taste is a balanced tart-and-sweet, with spice and floral notes. There is a tiny bit of pine towards the finish. Similar to a Red Gravenstein, but not as sweet. The Gravenstein Apple Fair folks provide recipes, history, and other juicy stuff about the Gravenstein.

Part 1 is here. "A 'newfangled apple' after all, Watson," Holmes said, looking up from the bowl of fruit before him. "With the outlandish name of Zest Star. " "But how did you know to contact Mr. Athay?" I asked, for it was from the grower himself that we learned the name of the cultivar that had borne my mysterious apples. "That was elementary, Watson," Holmes told me. "Apples are a popular English food, but just two farms at the market grow the early apples. "Douglas's only grows Williams' Prides, for which these could scarcely be mistaken, so I sent a message care of Athay's London agent." He sniffed. "I did not expect Mr. Athay to come in person." Richard Athay had indeed only just left, after offering apologies and a basket of Zest Stars—which he called "Zestars."

Apples for me evoke timeless fall in New England as surely as Proust's madeline recalled his childhood. Fall in New England! Strange to say of a fruit that originated in Kazakhstan and was foreign here until a few hundred years ago, but to me apples are the essential native New England fruit.