One of my favorite things about going to market is answering (or trying to answer) the questions people ask as they walk up to the table. With so many beautiful but uncommon varieties of apples, postures range from hesitant interest, to unbridled curiosity. Common questions include: Which are the sweetest? Which are the most tart? What should I use for baking? What’s with this brown apple? Which is your favorite?
Some questions are easier to answer than others: Usually, the apples are arranged from sweetest to most tart, with a few varieties in the middle, to make things easier for everyone. The best apple for baking depends largely on personal preference. The brown apples are Asian pears…just kidding. Russeted apples like Hudson’s Golden Gem and Razor Russet have great textures that are different from all the others, usually with a less noticeable skin. My favorite apples seem to change each week, with Spitzenburg topping the list currently and Golden Russet following closely behind.
My favorite question at market always starts the same way, “I had this one apple…can you tell me what it is?”, and a wild goose chase of apple identification begins. If North Star had it recently and clues include the flavor, color, or some part of the name, a proper I.D. is fairly easy to come by. If the apple was from last year, or much earlier this season and the details are hazier, it gets a little tough.
Understandably, we have the desire to find out which varieties we enjoy, but talking with people about their recently-discovered-yet-unnamed-favorite apple brings up a deeper topic of what most of us have come to expect with food. Often, we want the same thing again and again throughout the year, and that’s not what you get from locally-grown fruit. There is this tension between seeing the same few varieties of apples in any supermarket no matter what time of year, compared with a wider variety from the orchard that changes weekly. The Summer Blaze apples picked in August won’t be around with the Emperors picked this week – and that’s a good thing.
There is something about stepping away from the regular handful of apples that you can find anywhere at any time, and enjoying new flavors from a freshly picked apple that you’ve never tried before, even if it means waiting a whole year to taste it again. There are so many incredible varieties to try in the meantime, that even if you forget the name, you can grab someone at the farm or market and explain, “I had this one apple…can you tell me what it is?”
I came to work last Monday morning unsure of what to expect in the wake of Hurricane Irene. I didn’t bother asking the obvious questions about the state of the orchard – Is there any fruit left on the trees? How many trees blew over? Can we straighten them back into place?
As the morning unfolded, we tackled one task at a time, feeling the pressure of a full schedule and growing to-do list. Stepping away from the normal work of picking and sorting, we added work we had to allot time for: Clearing downed trees from the driveway and the orchard – 12 hours; hammering stakes and pulling fruit trees back into position – 15 hours; straightening hundreds of blown-over young trees in the nursery – 5 hours; and still so much more to do.
Rows of Asian pears became most noticeable by the fruit covering the ground, rather than hanging from the trees. A stretch of large plum trees looks pretty good, until you begin asking if they were all leaning slightly before the storm. Toppled-over peaches and apples are much more obviously affected; lying down with roots straining in the soil or snapped beyond survival.
Yet, in the midst of visible signs of the weather’s unpredictability and the time spent repairing what was damaged, the regular work moves forward. Crimson Crisp and huge Royalty apples turn glowing reds and deep purples that signal they are ready to be picked. Fantasia nectarines ripen and get picked for their third time. Hosui Asian pears move from green to tan as the flavor goes from good to exceptional, and the trees yield dozens of bushels of ripe fruit.
While a lot of work still remains to clean up after the storm, I’m seeing the practical merit of growing such a wide variety of trees on different training systems in the orchard. When you see how the damage from last weekend affected those varieties closest to being picked, but didn’t devastate the orchard entirely, growing dozens of varieties that ripen at different times not only keeps the orchard exciting, but makes sense in a business so deeply affected by the weather. So as we keep working to straighten trees back into position and get the orchard back into order, there is more than enough fruit to keep busy picking as we continue moving forward through the season.
There’s something about working in the tree nursery that’s really exciting.
Witnessing trees in their earliest stages and growing so quickly provides a perfect complement for the more consistent work of picking.
Earlier this spring, we grafted hundreds of pieces of scion wood from desirable varieties to rootstocks that determine tree size, and since then I’ve been intrigued by the whole process of raising young fruit trees.
Maybe it’s the rows of fluttering nametags for all of the pears, peaches and apples that I’ve never heard of before, but which have stories behind them. (The picture here shows apple trees on the right and peaches on the left in the nursery)
Or, it could be the different types of grafting, like T-Bud grafting, where next year’s flower buds are placed under the bark of peach rootstocks which were previously planted and already looked like small trees.
Even weeding seems so rewarding when you expose the contrast between rows of young vigorous trees stretching toward the sky and the dark and crumbly soil in which they are anchored.
As we dealt with weeks of hot and dry weather earlier this summer, a lot of the newly grafted trees did not make the sensitive union to begin growing together, and several withered.
However, some of the grafts which looked snapped or bent way beyond hope have taken hold and are growing to heights over my head, even with a 90-degree bend where they were grafted! The 5-foot tall bamboo stakes that support the trees seemed like overkill at first, when the trees were a knee-high, but are now steadily being outgrown.
While it takes a lot of time to work with so many tiny trees, grafting is often the only means for accessing a lot of different varieties.
Many of the varieties of scion wood selected come from smaller orchards and nurseries during the spring, so when they don’t graft successfully, it can be a frustrating wait until new wood can be ordered for another try the following year. Still, for every tree that didn’t make it, a bunch did, which means we are well on our way in an exciting several-year journey to taste even more untried (for us) fruit varieties and flavors.
Really…just look at them. With nifty patterns of variegated brown symmetrically arranged on its back, it could be the model for a new variation on hunters’ camouflage gear or other apparel dye patterns. It’s really pretty neat….beautiful in fact, if you don’t think too much about what the patterns and colors are attached to.
And the smell of the stinkbugs? Well, scratch and sniff. For some folks, the smell is downright revolting. For others (like me) it smells kind of like paper. Some people smell cilantro. So it’s weird, but not always completely offensive (unless you think about it).
The brown marmorated stinkbug (BMSB), as you may have heard, is wreaking havoc all over the midAtlantic states, and is spreading further. Florida is very worried about its arrival.
BMSBs are an invasive pest which are native to the Japan and China. They were first discovered in Pennsylvania in the late 90s, and have multiplied in such numbers that they’re invading homes and destroying crops. Their native predators, alas, did not travel with them, so they are pretty much on their own here and having a grand feasting party.
BMSBs love all kinds of fruits and veggies. Fruits like peaches, nectarines, apples, and Asian pears are very tasty to them (and hey, why not?). Their favorite vegetable around here seems to be edamame soybeans and sweet corn, but they’ll dabble in other veggies as well. They literally suck on the fruit in question, and leave a dimpled area. Sometimes (like if their dinner was interrupted), that’s all you’ll see is a dimple. Other times (when they can feast uninterrupted) the interior flesh may be discolored a bit or even a little ‘corky’. It’s not harmful to eat it or eat around it, thankfully.
For large commercial farms which sell to wholesale markets, any amount of BMSB damage on the crop makes it completely unsaleable. Some reports show that $37 million in crop sales were lost last year due to BMSB nibbling. Ouch. And it’s only going to be worse this year. Since the wholesale (ie. grocery store) market demands perfect, farms which rely on wholesaling are getting hammered.
Meanwhile, lots of studies are being conducted looking for ways to control the problem. Importing the BMSB’s natural predator is being considered, new chemical sprays are being studied and developed, and other less invasive means are being considered. Here at the farm, we are currently talking with a company which is trying to develop a solar-powered BMSB trapping system for commercial application. We’ll keep you posted on developments!
In the meantime….what is the beauty of stinkbugs?
1. They do look kind of neat (if you don’t mind antennae and creepy-crawly legs)
2. We’re all in the same boat here: you’ve got them in your houses and I have them on my farm. So, we can commiserate together (the ties that bind and all).
3. A little dimpling is just that….a little dimpling. Adds character perhaps?? We’ll keep the fruits the BMSBs really feasted on (like those pictured here) at home, but we trust that the occasional dimple in your fruit will be tolerated.
We’re all in the same boat on this one, and until a (hopefully non-toxic) solution is found, the BMSB will just bring us closer together. Complaints about them can continue now!
When introduced to a guest at a party recently, I shared that I work in an orchard. He seemed surprised and responded, “You mean, like, picking fruit?” We chatted briefly and since that conversation I’ve been thinking about everything that leads up to the iconic, but brief, moment of picking fruit within the context of the entire growing season.
Looking back nearly 6 months to frozen ground and blankets of snow, it’s strange to think of the trees as leafless holdouts waiting for their time to shine. With comfy boots and layers of warm clothing, I embraced winter as the time for pruning and learning about all of the different growth habits and training systems for the trees. It was hard to imagine these naked branches being weighed down with clusters of fruit and trying to prune accordingly – they didn’t even have leaves yet!
But before long, the trees burst into bloom and the orchard transformed from bare-boned rows of trees into stunning blocks of pink and white flowers. With spring under way, we focused on tying and training the trees to desired shapes and growing habits: “V’s” for peaches and nectarines; central leaders and open centers for apples, pears, Asian pears, and plums.
With the time for tying and training passed, thinning continues to be the main task, especially among the Asian pears. At first, it seems terrible to snip off so many tiny fruits, but after seeing (and tasting!) the size and quality that the remaining fruit achieves, the hours devoted to thinning are definitely worthwhile.
In the middle of everything, we found time to graft dozens of different apple, pear and peach varieties, notching together rootstocks that control the size of a tree, with scion-wood of the desired tree varieties. The grafts and hundreds of apple trees grown from seed were planted in two new on-farm nurseries.
Watching them bolt into waist-high trees has been exciting sign that there are still so many new and antique varieties of fruit to grow and try – it just takes a few years. I’ve already been so impressed by the Purple Heart and Early Golden plums, Pristine and Redfree apples, Eastern Glo nectarines, and GaLa peaches that were new to me this season!
So in response to my fellow party guest’s earlier question about working in an orchard, in addition to pruning, tying, grafting, planting, weeding, thinning, tasting, and all of the surrounding tasks, my condensed answer is “Yes! – Picking fruit!”
Yes kids, today, we’re talking about everyone’s favorite topic….sex. In the orchard.
Seek no further; unlike some people, we do not post nudies of us cavorting about like these two. And quite frankly, you wouldn’t want to see pictures to that effect anyway!
But the topic of sex came up recently when a farmers’ market customer inquired, “In a large orchard what prevents different kinds of apples from cross pollinating?”
So there you have it – sex! Of course, here we’re talking more about the birds and the bees. Or more accurately in this case, the bees and the wind. And cloning.
No worries, we’re not playing God here, but rather just working naturally with the way many plants go about reproducing themselves.
You see, apple, peach, pear, nectarine (and most other fruit blossoms) do indeed cross pollinate. The wind blows, the bees buzz around, and the pollen is spread about from one tree to another. We actually want this to happen in order for those blossoms to become pollinated and produce a nice big juicy fruit. Fruit trees naturally use the rhythm method to get pregnant with fruit. Please – no condoms ’round the orchard in spring time!
So, cross pollination is a good thing.
Of course, just as in human sex, when you cross two parents you’ll get an infinite number of slightly or greatly different offspring. I know my own mother was always astounded by how different my brother and I could be, even though we came from the same parents. I’m sure you know of siblings in your own extended families who make you wonder the same thing!
Fruit works the same way. Take all of the seeds out of a Gold Rush apple, for example, and plant them. Then wait several years and see what you get. You’ll end up with a whole bunch of apple trees, each one of which produces a different (sometimes vastly different) kind of apple. Some may be sweet, some more tart. Some tiny, some huge. Some more yellow, some mostly red. It’s all in the genes that joined up during orchard sex (um, pollination) season at bloom time.
And here you thought a blooming orchard was just pretty – little did you know what kind of orgy was going on out there. Yikes (or ooooh, depending on your point of view).
Which, then, brings up the question some CSA members had just recently. “Is it true that an orchard like this is made up of clones?”
Well, certainly…but not necessarily entirely.
If we want to be SURE to have a Gold Rush tree, we must plant a grafted tree of Gold Rush. Because, as mentioned before, if we just planted Gold Rush seeds, who knows what we’d end up with!
A grafted fruit tree consists of a rootstock, (also clones, by the way) which will convey to the adult tree the final size and strength of the tree and, to a certain degree, the growth habit and size of the fruit. On top of the rootstock is grafted a wee little bud of the tree you’d like to have. So, all of our Gold Rush trees started out life as buds on an adult Gold Rush tree, which were then grafted on to the particular rootstock we wanted for our orchard.
This is not genetic modification or playing God by any means. Many plants reproduce in manners similar to this, and many plants naturally graft themselves to others, given the right growing conditions.
So, basically all orchard trees are clones of varieties which came before. And all orchard trees have sex (or rather, cross-pollinate). It’s all cool.
Farmer Ike has always dabbled in fruit and vegetable breeding projects (yep, more plant sex!). In these cases, he decides which varieties he’d like to have cross pollinate with each other (kind of like an arranged marriage??). Then he’ll choose, over time and with further selections, the best brand-new varieties which present themselves from that cross. Our apple variety, Monolith, is one such baby of ours. Current breeding projects include potatoes (we’ve got over 80 new kinds to try!), and an apple breeding project crossing Gold Rush with Florina (several hundred of those babies are growing here now).
Sex behind closed doors in many cases is a good idea. But out in the orchard, the trees merrily let it all hang out…and we all happily benefit from the delights of sex in the orchard!
Itzstedter Apfel, Kandil Sinap, and Bloody Ploughman. Cinnamon Spice, Holstein, and King Solomon. Ok – what do all of these names have in common? Other than appearing in this blog post, what these names have in common is they are all apple varieties, and they are some of the 141 new varieties added to our orchard this year.
Names are always so intriguing. Some other varieties we’ve planted this year have yummy-sounding names such as Nutmeg, Early Strawberry, and Red Butterscotch. We can imagine perhaps, what may be in store when we bite into them. But Husk Spice? What flavor might that be?
Some of the newbies will keep us wondering. What in the world might Incarnation, Black Gilliflower, Stump, Suntan, Black Twig, or Fiesta taste like? And what was in the breeder’s head when they named those varieties so? I’m not sure I want to think about the flavor of Herferdshire or the aforementioned Holstein. Cow names? Really??
Some of these new-to-us varieties were obviously named in honor of people. There’s Reverend Morgan, Father Abraham, Ingrid Marie, Crown Prince Rudolph, and, simply, Oliver.
But then there’s some whose names will cause no end to pronunciation difficulties (not to mention spelling difficulties). Red Berlepsch, Zabergau Reinette, and Junaluska, among others which I refuse to spell out more than I absolutely need to. Ooh, copy and paste; problem solved. Gotta love the initial one mentioned today – Itzstedter Apfel, Itzstedter Apfel, Itzstedter Apfel. Say that one fast three times. Oi.
We grafted these and 116 more varieties this year. Bummer is, it’ll be some time before we get a taste of them. (GRAFT FILM)
Ike selected and ordered budwood from a variety of apple collectors, and then we grafted them onto the rootstocks we like to use in this orchard. Rootstocks control the size and other characteristics of the adult apple tree. We’ve got only two itty-bitty baby trees of each variety, and we’re hoping that at least one of each will grow to maturity, although it’s likely we’ll lose a few along the way.
So why add so many more to our current stash of 76 apple varieties?
The answer was revealed very clearly last week when Ike was being interviewed for an educational documentary which was being filmed at our farm. The interviewer asked Farmer Ike what he liked best about farming. Having been married to the guy for 24 years, I figured I’d know the answer. Something along the lines of, “because I like growing things” or “I enjoy having different work to do season by season” or even “I enjoy dealing with the challenges Mother Nature gives us”. But no, his answer was “I just love the experience of trying new apple varieties; nurturing a baby tree for several years and then taking that first bite.” Not the answer I really expected, but not a surprising one either.
Ike continually studies lists of apple varieties put out by other breeders and collectors. His ‘wish list’ for this year’s planting was well over 300 varieties. Thankfully, that was cut in half, or else we’d have to buy a new farm to plant all those trees on!
The other thing coming down the pike in addition to those 141 is a breeding project Ike started last year. He crossed Gold Rush with Florina apples. We’ve got a whole bunch of interesting-looking seedlings from that cross, but it’ll be several years before we get a taste of those. And each one will be different. Hmmm….Gold Rush and Florina as parents? I can’t wait!
In the meantime, these little grafted trees will give us a taste first. There’s one out there called “Westfield Seek-No-Further”. I wonder if it’s true? Seek no further…..nah…..there will ALWAYS be new varieties out there just waiting for Ike to get his hands (and teeth) on.
Anyone have some extra land available? Somehow I think we’re going to need it…..
Change in our pockets is reassuring (unless it’s too heavy or there’s a hole in your pocket)
Living in Changes is rather routine (for the people who live there)
A lane Change can be tricky (depending who’s driving)
“Changes” is good (if you’re a David Bowie fan)
Change can trigger stress or excitement (depending if you’re suddenly be chased by a tiger or have just won the lottery)
Change in the orchard can be stressful, exciting, good, tricky, rather routine, and reassuring. Sometimes all at the same time.
Today, Ike, Brint, and Brady pulled out a number of young peach trees. Cut down in the prime of life (they were 2008 babies), they had to go in order to make room for new babies.
In any orchard, replanting is a common and necessary thing. If you don’t change out old for new, pretty soon the orchard will be old, tired, and non-productive. But why do away with young trees which only first fruited last year? Several reasons. One variety was very susceptible to bacterial spot (which both sounds and looks nasty; we’d rather avoid it if possible), one variety we just had planted too many of to begin with, and one variety just tastes…..bad. Bad. Bad.
As orchardists growing specialty varieties, we have to deal with this kind of thing all the time. It’s kind of like “As Seen on TV” products; sometimes what we get works as promoted, and sometimes it’s, well, a real let-down. You just can’t believe everything you read about (or see on TV), so you have to be prepared to take chances and make changes.
What are we replacing the trees with? Some new-to-us peach varieties which come with stellar descriptions. You’ll just have to stay tuned to this dial to see if they are all they’re cracked up to be.
While we wait, I’ll crank up the Bowie.
CSA Member Elizabeth S. enjoyed playing with her food in 2010!
Here’s a short film of all the amazing creations she made with her weekly Veggie and Fruit CSA share.
Awesome!!
I probably wouldn’t be working at North Star Orchard if it weren’t for the Asian pears. It’s true – they’re what drew my attention to this farm years ago at Philadelphia farmers’ markets. I’m not the only one; they truly have a cult following. I’ll often open my mouth to answer a question about them at a market, only to have another customer standing nearby answer enthusiastically for me. I’ve heard about Asian pears shipped away to kids at college who are yearning for a taste of home, and about some that are shipped each year to relatives in Europe. I know my parents won’t let me in the door at Christmas-time if I don’t bring pears along.
So many people love them, but they’re still a bit of a mystery to most. What are these things? These “apple pears,” “Korean pears,” “sand pears,” “salad pears,” nashi? Well, “apple pear” is misleading; they really have nothing to do with apples, except that they share a plant family (Rosaceae). What they actually are is another species of pear, Pyrus pyrifolia, that has been traditionally grown in Japan, China, and Korea. You’ve been eating them for weeks (if not years) now, so I don’t have to tell you what they taste like, or about their characteristic crunch. Unlike “European” pears, Asian pears are picked ripe and ready to eat – none of that guesswork about when it’s reached its moments-long window of peak ripeness before turning to unpleasant mush in the center. Keep them in your fridge loosely in a plastic bag and they’ll keep for weeks. (Especially good to know this time of year when the CSA’s ending!)
Perhaps the Asian pear fervor is only unusual in this country where fruit generally serves as a sort of placeholder. We’re not accustomed to great flavor, but rather a healthy something to tide us over or fill a lunch bag. Most of us grew up on inoffensive-at-best apples and identical-looking bananas, definitely nothing to get excited about. In Asia, however, where these pears come from, they’re served as a special treat or gift or shared around the table after a meal. Here, as well, I sense that Asian pears are treated as something special. If nothing else, the price inspires a bit more awe than we’re used to affording a piece of fruit, and reflects the hours spent hand-thinning the crop as well as their fragile nature.
All season long I’ve been looking forward to learning more about these pears and their traditional uses, and I have to confess, I haven’t been too successful. There still isn’t that much information out there, readily available on the information superhighway (in English anyway). I was, however, able to find a bit on their usage in traditional Chinese medicine. From Kitchen Medicine Cooking Medicine, a blog about Food, Herbs, and Philosophy from Ayurveda and Chinese Medicine:
“The most common Kitchen Medicine in the East for the lungs are Pears. Pears are cooling and moistening which in moderation is how the lungs like to be. Not only do pear’s cool energy counteract the heat building in your lungs with infection, but their viscous moist quality is a natural lubricant for the mucous membranes of the lungs, with expectorant qualities, too.
Bite into a ripe pear. Compare with a ripe Apple. Pears have a viscous quality. This is a moistening characteristic that targets the lungs and nasal passages, and makes them excellent food this time of year, raw or cooked.”
Appropriately enough, I was fighting off a cough as I did my research, and it took longer than it should have for me to realize that I should get up off the couch and go steam some Asian pears. I highly recommend this recipe (adapted from Nina Simonds’ A Spoonful of Ginger), even if you’re feeling 100% healthy. Once cooked, the texture of Asian pear is remarkably similar to cooked European pears.
For anyone who’d like to dabble in the world of pickle making, Asian pears can also be used in kimchi. I’d recommend using Olympic, a Korean variety with a little more crunch and tart flavor. Another Korean cooking technique I learned: use Asian pear to marinate and tenderize beef in recipes such as bulgogi and galbi.
Also, one of the nicknames for Asian pears, “salad pears” makes a great suggestion – they go fabulously in salads, providing a sweet and crunchy counterpoint especially to bitter or spicy greens. Finally, online success – a search easily turns up a number of Asian pear salad recipes…
All of these suggestions, however, are contingent on any Asian pears lingering beyond the moment you take them out of their bag. The traditional way to eat a North Star Asian pear is, after all, to simply eat it, as soon as possible, caution to the wind with juice flying, a bit of the mystery still intact.
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Rows of Asian pears became most noticeable by the fruit covering the ground, rather than hanging from the trees. A stretch of large plum trees looks pretty good, until you begin asking if they were all leaning slightly before the storm. Toppled-over peaches and apples are much more obviously affected; lying down with roots straining in the soil or snapped beyond survival.
(like those pictured here) at home, but we trust that the occasional dimple in your fruit will be tolerated. 
When introduced to a guest at a party recently, I shared that I work in an orchard. He seemed surprised and responded, “You mean, like, picking fruit?” We chatted briefly and since that conversation I’ve been thinking about everything that leads up to the iconic, but brief, moment of picking fruit within the context of the entire growing season.
But before long, the trees burst into bloom and the orchard transformed from bare-boned rows of trees into stunning blocks of pink and white flowers. With spring under way, we focused on tying and training the trees to desired shapes and growing habits: “V’s” for peaches and nectarines; central leaders and open centers for apples, pears, Asian pears, and plums. 
And here you thought a blooming orchard was just pretty – little did you know what kind of orgy was going on out there. Yikes (or ooooh, depending on your point of view).
A grafted fruit tree consists of a rootstock, (also clones, by the way) which will convey to the adult tree the final size and strength of the tree and, to a certain degree, the growth habit and size of the fruit. On top of the rootstock is grafted a wee little bud of the tree you’d like to have. So, all of our Gold Rush trees started out life as buds on an adult Gold Rush tree, which were then grafted on to the particular rootstock we wanted for our orchard.
Farmer Ike has always dabbled in fruit and vegetable breeding projects (yep, more plant sex!). In these cases, he decides which varieties he’d like to have cross pollinate with each other (kind of like an arranged marriage??). Then he’ll choose, over time and with further selections, the best brand-new varieties which present themselves from that cross. Our apple variety, Monolith, is one such baby of ours. Current breeding projects include potatoes (we’ve got over 80 new kinds to try!), and an apple breeding project crossing Gold Rush with Florina (several hundred of those babies are growing here now). 
The answer was revealed very clearly last week when Ike was being interviewed for an educational documentary which was being filmed at our farm. The interviewer asked Farmer Ike what he liked best about farming. Having been married to the guy for 24 years, I figured I’d know the answer. Something along the lines of, “because I like growing things” or “I enjoy having different work to do season by season” or even “I enjoy dealing with the challenges Mother Nature gives us”. But no, his answer was “I just love the experience of trying new apple varieties; nurturing a baby tree for several years and then taking that first bite.” Not the answer I really expected, but not a surprising one either.
The other thing coming down the pike in addition to those 141 is a breeding project Ike started last year. He crossed Gold Rush with Florina apples. We’ve got a whole bunch of interesting-looking seedlings from that cross, but it’ll be several years before we get a taste of those. And each one will be different. Hmmm….Gold Rush and Florina as parents? I can’t wait!
