Adam's Apples

There's an orchard near me that takes an interest in apples that are still in development (and may never graduate to wider cultivation).  ¶  These generally have names like "WA 38" (which you know as Cosmic Crisp ) or "NY 428" (which you probably do not know at all).  ¶  My local grower, for example, got its hands on one of these and, since it did not have what you might call a name, called it "Early Jonagold." (It later got fully commercialized as Autumn Crisp.  ¶  ) It also sold Early Spy and Early Macoun that were not these named apples picked early, but something else.  ¶  So when I found "Early Crimson Crisp" there this week, I had to ask: is this another unofficial nickname for an uncommercialized apple, or is "early" just an adjective describing the true Crimson Crisp?

A WHOLE LOTTA NOTHING  ¶  All supermarket apples are good looking, and Dazzle, with its cool red blush decorated with many small lenticel dots, is no exception.  ¶  The apple is large and blocky, with only a slight taper keeping it from a completely cylindrical profile. The blush mostly covers a yellow peal, and is thinner (and warmer) on the shaded side.  ¶  Its calyx is open.

Travel has kept me from the early apples this year. I've missed the local farmers market where it is likely at least one vendor has offered Lodi or Vista Bella, or maybe even Pristine.  ¶  Left to right: Vista Bella, Yellow Transparent, Puritan.  ¶  This week, my wanderings took me past Red Apple Farm in Phillipston, Massachusetts, which did not disappoint.  ¶  About a minute after I took the above photo, I was eating one of those Vista Bellas. So fresh, so tart, so local , so good.

I was traveling last week, and thus missed farmers market, where there were probably some early apples: Lodi at least, and maybe Vista Bella .  ¶  I made it to an orchard on Friday. Things looked pretty good there!  ¶  Hutchins Farm, in Concord, Massachusetts, did not have any apples to sell yet, but will soon by the look of things.

Eighteen is something like 180 in internet years. I never imagined when I started this blog in 2008 (an experiment writing about "a year of apples" ) that I'd learn so much, or that I'd still be learning and blogging in 2026.  ¶  Possibly that year year-long commitment is what kept me going. I bagged 44 apples in the first six months (a number I have never matched in any subsequent full year). It would have been easy to quit when things inevitably got harder to write about in the winter.

After several years of neglect, these apple trees show signs of care.  ¶  Some are even bearing fruit:  ¶  The state of things at Nagog Hill Farm in Littleton, Massachusetts, last week.  ¶  Alas, the farm has moved on, an orchard no more.

Surrounded by the plastic and newsprint that kept it over the winter, this 2025 GoldRush apple proved still good to eat in June of 2026.  ¶  As things turned out, my eyes were bigger than my stomach when I squirreled away a score of these apples last fall to eat in April.  ¶  But no matter: GoldRush is a phenomenal keeper apple , still good in June. This is my last one.