We spent this past weekend in Presque Isle where John was presenting on a panel as part of an apple symposium. Friday night as we were eating dinner with the other panelists who weren’t apple historians, he explained the journey that the apple took from Kazakhstan and the far east, west through Iran and Turkey and finally to Europe. Along the way multiple native apple species intermixed to produce our modern eating apple, Malus x domestica. It was Malus x domestica that traveled to North America as seed in the pockets and barrels of fishermen, explorers and early colonists. Because the majority of settlers were from England and France, the seeds they brought with them contained the genetics of varieties that were popular in those countries. As a result, the wide diversity of apples across the European and Asian continents was whittled down and left behind as the apple crossed the Atlantic creating a funneling effect from many to a few. As it turned out the apple loved North America, and before long it was growing from the eastern seaboard to the midwest. It did need some help from some hardier Russian apples to adapt to the winters in Aroostook County, Canada and other deep freeze areas, but with the addition of those genetics, this introduced, non-native species settled into it’s new home with a determination to prosper.
Malus x domestica was the product of a lot of hybridization between Malus species prior to crossing the Atlantic, yet it seemed to have no interest in mixing with the three crab apples native to North America. Instead the mixing occurred with other apples within the species Malus x domestica. Since an apple can’t self-pollinate and must be pollinated by a different variety, a new unnamed and unknown variety grew up from each seed that was planted. Starting in the 1600’s as the land was cleared, seedling orchards were planted by homesteaders, farmers and indigenous peoples. The most favorable apples were selected from the thousands of seedlings that had been planted; these were named and reproduced by grafting. By the mid 19th century there were well over 15,000 named American apple cultivars.
Less than a century later, much of the farmland and orchards had been abandoned, but the apple trees lived on, untended and often unnoticed. As their seeds were spread by birds and mammals, by water and by travelers, they got a foothold in the former pastureland that was beginning to revert to forest. Whole seedling orchards developed in the open spaces, and each of those seedlings was a new, unique variety. This led to (and this was what most shocked me from John’s story at dinner) the creation of the Number 2 (or possibly the Number 1) greatest center of apple diversity in the world right here in North America. And it all started with a few pocketfuls of seeds and happened within less than 400 years.
A study published by the US Forest Service in 2023 estimated that there are more than 250 million apple trees in the forests of the eastern U.S. WOW. This represents a massive gene bank of locally-adapted cultivars that may hold great potential for resilience in the face of climate change. The USFS study also found that the abundance of apple seedlings and saplings is in decline as the forest canopy closes in. Luckily for Maine’s fruit explorers, Maine is one of only five states that still possesses a high number of large trees. USFS recommends conservation and management strategies to safeguard and ensure continuation of the amazing genetic diversity before it is lost.
Picks of the week:
(Click each variety for more info)
We’ve packed a lot of different apples in your share this week - we couldn’t help ourselves. Early October is when the apples really come into their own. They seem to sense when the fruits of the garden are no longer a distraction and when the peaches, plums and and berries offer no further competition. We can now turn our full attention to the stars of the orchard, and what a panoply they make. No ephemeral varieties these - mid-season apples have staying power and will hold their own into December and sometimes beyond. So you have plenty of time to savor them.
Let’s start with the all-purpose apples in your share - Twenty Ounce and Smokehouse. Both of these heirlooms date from the first half of the 19th century, and although neither originated in Maine, both can still be found growing in orchards around the central part of the state. They are tasty for fresh eating (although Twenty Ounce is a bit of a mouthful), and they make good mid-season pies and sauce.
Our favorite cooking apples this week are Rolfe and Redfield. Rolfe is a Maine native and the fabled offspring of the fantastic apple, Blue Pearmain. This HUGE apple cries out to be stuffed and baked. It’s also excellent for sauce. We obtained the scion wood for our Rolfe tree from an ancient tree in Sweetser’s Orchard in Cumberland. When that tree died, we were able to graft a row of replacement trees for them using scions passed down from their original tree. The apples you’re about to taste were harvested from that row. You certainly won’t confuse Redfield and Rolfe, especially when you cut into them. The striking red flesh of Redfield is even more iconic than it’s deeply red-blushed skin. This apple was bred for the apple sauce industry 100 years ago and abandoned by it when it became easier to color the sauce with red dye. We still prefer our pink apple sauce with natural color, and we think you will too. It also looks great mixed into baked desserts. This apple keeps all winter in our root cellar.
The remaining three apples are considered dessert apples (see Newsletter #2 if you don’t remember what that means). Tumanga may sport the most familiar taste for those of you who have been in the CSA for a number of years since one of its parents is the exceedingly flavorful English apple, Cox’s Orange Pippin. Its other parent is a German apple with a long name; in Germany Tumanga is primarily used for juice.
The other two dessert apples in the collection are provisionally known as Sweet Red and Whitefield Russet. These are not their real names - we have withheld those for their protection. Just kidding. We have withheld them because we don’t know them. We thought we did, but DNA analysis has made us rethink what we know. For now the most important clues to what these apples will taste like and how to use them are the words “Sweet” and “Russet”. The name “Sweet” in an heirloom apple suggests that the apple will have little to no acidity, which results in an unusual flavor for our acid-accustomed taste buds. We eat Sweet Red straight from the tree or in salads and slaws. With low acidity it is slow to break down in cooking, so John likes to add it to stews where is looks a lot like a potato and adsorbs the flavor of the stew.
“Russet” which describes the rough, golden skin of the apple is often a clue to rich flavor. The skin of some of the Whitefield Russets in your share is a bit rougher than we would like, so we hope you can cut around the dings and stings. We only know one source for these apples, and we think the outstanding flavor is worth a few blemishes. Unlike potatoes, russet apples are not prized for baking. They are best eaten out of hand or in a salad. Some russets are excellent cored, sliced thick and sauteed in bacon fat, but we haven’t tried Whitefield that way yet.
Our apples come to you straight from the tree, so, as with all fresh produce, please be sure to wash them thoroughly before eating. Some of the apples are grown using Integrated Pest Management by the orchards we collaborate with throughout Maine, and some are organically grown here on Super Chilly Farm.
Recipe of the Week
I will admit that I was intending to include another “easy” apple dessert recipe that I tried out last week. But thinking about the number of all-purpose and dessert apples in your share, I reconsidered my choice. Here’s a recipe that calls for raw apples made into a slaw and served tucked into a wedge of roasted squash for a perfect fall combo. The recipe comes from the Lost Kitchen Cookbook by Erin French. Ahh, the Lost Kitchen, that legendary restaurant in Freedom of renovated-rural ambience, exquisitely prepared, locally grown food, and the overarching sense that you’re having dinner with a friend who is actually the best cook you know. If only your postcard had been selected from among the 10,000 they receive each spring. If only. In lieu of that, you can make this dish yourself, take a seat at your kitchen table, and imagine the flickering candle light and the sound of the waterfall rushing over the dam. Apples and squash will have never tasted so good.
Roasted Squash Cups
Ingredients:
Try Tumanga in this salad. It doesn't turn brown, and the flavor compliments the richness of the squuash.
1 small buttercup squash (about 2.5 pounds) cut into quarters and seeded (I used two sweet dumpling squash and cut each in half)
1/2 cup olive oil
salt & pepper
1 tsp grated nutmeg
1/2 stick (4 Tbs) unsalted butter
1 small shallot, finely diced
2 Tbs rice wine vinegar
2 dessert apples
1 Tbs maple syrup
1 Tbs fresh thyme leaves
Small handful of arugula leaves
Directions:
Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.
Brush the squash flesh with 1/4 cup of olive oil, and season each wedge with salt, fresh black pepper, and 1/4 tsp nutmeg. Top each with a Tbs of butter. Wrap each squash wedge individually in foil, and bake 25-30 minutes or until the squash is easily pierced with a fork.
Combine the shallots and vinegar in a small bowl, and allow them to macerate while you slice the apples.
Use a mandoline or a sharp knife to slice the apples into matchsticks. Toss the apples with the shallots and vinegar. Gently mix in the maple syrup, remaining 1/4 cup olive oil and thyme. Add salt and pepper to taste.
To serve, put a small bed of arugula in the valley of each warm squash wedge and top with a spoonful of apple slaw.