The Orchard

Another winter has passed and although it may be shy in its arrival, spring is upon us.  The new season has brought with it not only green buds on the trees and blooming forsythia, but also new developments in my life.  This past winter I stumbled upon an opportunity I could not pass up: an orchard in need of a caretaker.  One of a Kind Orchard was owned and cared for by Ray Reynolds and his wife Barbara for many years until Ray passed away nearly a year ago.  For several years now the more than 500 trees comprising almost as many varieties of heirloom and traditional apples have gone untended.  Not wanting to see such a treasure lost, Barbara has graciously allowed me to tend the orchard and take from it what fruit the harvest provides as my compensation.

Winter Pruning

 Taking on such an endeavor feels like going from 0 to 60 in the matter of a few months.  The knowledge I had of organic apple growing has already increased ten fold and I have come to appreciate the value of learning through necessity.  Having taken on this project in mid-February, I spent the slow cold days of winter with my head in books on pruning and organic apple production, taking some of the "warmer" days to venture out to the orchard to make my first pruning cuts and walk in the knee deep snow, up and down the rows slowly getting to know the trees.  March brought more pruning.  As I become more accustomed to the saw and loppers and more confident in my cuts I moved through the trees more quickly, especially on those days when a friend or two would come out and lend a hand.
April brought a cool wet spring that put the trees almost two weeks behind last year (an exceptionally warm spring).  April also brought a scramble to purchase the sprays and equipment I would need to make my first foray into organic apple production.  A twenty-six gallon sprayer, a 19.5 horsepower used lawn tractor and lots of kaolin clay were among the purchases.  Now in these final days of April, I have made my first application of sulfur and piled up most of the branches left strewn around the orchard from winter pruning.  After an exceptional burst of April showers that will no doubt bring a plethora of may flowers, the rivers and streams are swollen and the ground saturated.  Small ponds and mud abound in the orchard, making walking a messy business and getting around with any type of equipment almost impossible.   

The early varieties have reached Tight Cluster, with the laggers still showing only a green tip.  With scab season off to a wet start, the possibility of drier days ahead brings hope.  The first plum in in full bloom, setting the stage for a symphony of pink and white which will grace the orchard in the coming weeks.     

The first plum blossoms

Jonny Appleseed

Today is Johnny Appleseed day!  An icon of American folklore, Johnny Appleseed, born John Chapman, played an integral role in the establishment of frontier communities, but also in the evolution of the apple in the New World. To understand Johnny Appleseed, it is first important to have a basic understanding of the genetics of an apple and the means by which they reproduce.  Unlike modern-day orchards which are almost always established using grafted trees with known varieties, John Chapman sowed the seeds of diverse orchards and nurseries where no two apples where alike.

John Chapman was born in 1774 in Leominster, Massachusetts. Historians know little about his childhood. They do know that he learned about apple growing as a young man, while working for a neighbor who owned an apple orchard.

Around 1797, Chapman moved west. He gathered sacks full of apple seeds from cider mills in settled areas. Then he headed for the frontier, keeping just ahead of westbound pioneers. He begged, borrowed, bought, or rented land near creeks and rivers, then planted seeds there. He tended the seedlings until settlers arrived. Then he sold his seedlings or orchards and moved on. He kept this up for nearly 50 years. He started orchards in western New York and Pennsylvania as well as Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky, and Illinois.

Chapman spread not only apples, but also the teachings of a small Christian sect called the New Church. He opposed violence of all kinds. He got along well with Native Americans. He was a vegetarian. He lived frugally. He was extremely thin, went barefoot most of the time, and wore only discarded clothing.

Historians aren't sure exactly when Chapman died. It happened sometime in March 1845 in Fort Wayne, Indiana. His obituary in the March 22, 1845, Fort Wayne Sentinel reads in part: "The deceased was well-known throughout this region by his eccentricity, and strange garb. He is supposed to have considerable property, yet denied himself [...] the common necessities of life [...] He submitted to every privation with cheerfulness [...] believing that in so doing he was securing snug quarters hereafter."

                                     -- From "The Writer's Almanac"

Although Johnny Appleseed takes on a largely mythological role in modern culture, the impacts of his work are very real.  He saw every seed and every tree as valuable and worthy of existence.  Although he may have taken a more spiritual approach to this appreciation, the genetic diversity found in his orchards had a very real biological significance.  As we move towards large orchards with fewer and fewer varieties and the continued loss of many forgotten heirlooms, perhaps we could use another John Chapman. 

Story of an Apple: Arkansas Black

Arkansas Black is an heirloom apple that originated in Benton county, Arkansas.  Quite possibly raised in the orchard of Mr. Brathwaite, the first fruit was harvested around the year 1870.  In some cases Arkansas Black has erroneously been listed as identical to the variety simply known as Arkansas, due to the similarity in name and origin, when in fact the trees and fruit bear little resemblance  to each other.  Unlike the Arkansas, which is commonly accepted to be a seedling of Winesap, the parentage of Arkansas black is less certain although it is suggested that the Arkansas Black also has Winesap among it's ancestors.  The name for the variety comes from the fruits deep red hue, which when ripe can appear almost black.

Arkansas Black, Cornell Orchards, taken beginning of September.  Color becomes significantly darker prior to harvest in late October.

 S.A. Beach in The Apples of New York describes the Arkansas Black as "one of the most beautiful apples."  He goes on to say, "It is a good keeper and commands a good price in market."  The variety was a popular cultivar in parts of Arkansas and Missouri during the last part of the 19th century.  During this period it is believed that Arkansas Black may have comprised up 10 to 15 percent of the apples grown in the state of Arkansas.  In the first decades of the 20th century, Codling Moth infestations, drought and the economic decline of the Depression all took their toll on the Arkansas apple industry, which never recovered.  Since then Arkansas Black has been grown in many regions of the united states, mostly in small quantities as an antique variety, used primarily for cooking and cider. More recently it has begun to make it's way into the commercial market.  The other day I found it at my local food cooperative, the first time I have seen it for sale outside of an orchard or the farmer's market. 

In the orchard the variety has shown some resistance to Apple Scab and Fireblight, as well as a strong resistance to Cedar Apple Rust.  It is a good bearer, although a poor pollinator.  It is harvested here in New York in late October or early November and will keep for many months in storage.  

Warmer Days Ahead

The winter season is often a time to hunker down, do some good reading and thoughtful contemplation.  Reflect on the year gone by and plan for the coming seasons.  It is also a time to take a trip to warmer climates, for some of us lucky enough to find the time and means to to travel.  For the next few weeks I will be taking a hiatus from the blog and from the blustery weather of central New York, to travel again to Mexico and Guatemala.  To be honest, this hiatus may go largely unnoticed, being as I have not been as active in posting on my blog as I had imagined I would be in the slower winter months.  My apologies.

New York Winter

In other news, I have been giving a lot of thought to the coming spring even if the days are still short and there are still apples in the cellar.  I have been scheming with a few friends and planning a small orchard of sorts to be planted this coming spring on some land just outside of Ithaca.  With the wheels in motion, I have ordered a small number of dwarfing and semi-dwarfing rootstocks on which I hope to graft my first apple trees.  The whole process from the graft point up will be a huge learning experience.  Much of it is still in the planning and researching stages, but I am still excited to think ahead to sloppy March thaws and May blossoms.   

The Golden Apple Part III a.k.a. Goldrush

Unlike my first two posts about the golden apple, this is not a story of mythology, but rather one of a tangible fruit.  The Goldrush apple is a product of nature, but also of science, more specifically of apple breeding, which has been  the source of many new apple varieties over the past century.  Unlike the Baldwin, McIntosh or Red Delicious, which all originated as chance seedlings, the Goldrush is the progeny of several existing varieties including Rome, Golden Delicious and a variety of crab apple, which were all intentionally crossed and recrossed over a series of generations to eventually yield what would become the Goldrush. 

The Goldrush Family Tree from: http://www.hort.purdue.edu/newcrop/pri/coop38-3.html

All of these crosses were performed by the Purdue, Rutgers and Illinois (PRI) breeding program, which developed the Goldrush as part of their ongoing attempt to breed scab resistant apple varieties.

Almost all of the varieties released by PRI under this breeding program, which include Enterprise, Redfree and Goldrush among others, contain a single scab resistant gene V_f derived from Malus floribunda, a species of crab apple.  The original tree that bore what would become Goldrush apples was planted in 1973 on the Purdue Horticulture Research Farm in West Lafayette, Indiana.  It was one of many trees that were planted with seeds resulting from a cross between a Golden Delicious as the seed parent and a variety known as Co-op 17 as the pollen parent.  Its official location on the farm was in block HE row 4, tree 16.  In October 1980 the tree was selected for further testing under the name Co-op 38.  Not until 1994 was the variety finally released to growers under the name Goldrush.  

Because of it's scab resistance, Goldrush is a good variety for organic growers, who often struggle to control scab in varieties that do not have the built-in genetic resistance.  I had not heard the name until this fall when I picked at Cornell Orchards.  During conversations about the picking season, Goldrush would often be mentioned as the variety that marked the end of the season, the final apple to be picked, often in the cold, sometimes snowy days of early November.  Like many late season apples, Goldrush are particularly good keepers, often needing additional time in storage to fully ripen.  In fact, several people I have spoken to, do not recommend biting into a Goldrush until at least a month after they have been picked.

I chose them as one of a few varieties to store in my basement for the winter months.  My basement, although cooler than the house, is not a true cellar by any stretch of the imagination.  I have found it takes truly good keepers to stand the test of time with my storage methods.  Today I dug out a Goldrush to test the flavor and texture.  Although it was slightly soft to the touch, when cut open the texture of the flesh was firm and amazingly crisp with no mealiness.  It tasted strikingly sweet, yet there was a distinct zing hidden in the complex flavors.  Of the storage varieties I have encountered this is one of my favorites.  We will see how it holds up in February or March, but for now I can say this apple excited my taste buds and added a little sweetness to a cold and very snowy December day.