Apple Carts Need Some Upsetting

Having lived in Washington for the last dozen years before moving to Luxembourg, one would think I would be jaded about the "pomme". Not so. Though perhaps a little bored. Non-Washingtonians might imagine that we are awash in a cascade of fresh, tree-ripened, locally grown and superior tasting apples. That's also not so. My erstwhile Seattle supermarkets have the same apple lineup as most of the U.S.: juicy yet flavor-challenged Fujis, mushy or cardboardy Red Delicious, dry and tart Granny Smith, mushy and bland Rome Beauties, and a few more that can be found pretty much anywhere. 

The root of the problem is that the Washington crop is expected to last for an entire year, until next year's harvest comes in. The result is that apples are picked slightly green so they can be manhandled and refrigerated in nitrogen flooded warehouses. Granted, Washington farmers markets have better alternatives than these, though the pickings can be slim. 

What brings this to mind is my visit recently to the Apple Festival in Steinsel, a community just a few minutes north of Luxembourg City. Although  we got there mid-morning, there was almost nobody there, and the morning fog hadn't burned off yet. The trees were skinny little things, saplings really, layed out in efficient orchard rows. They were so laden with fruit that the branches shouldn't have been able to hold all that weight.

Given the option of picking our own, or just going into the sales tent and digging through the bins for what we wanted that was already picked, we chose the latter because the "U-pick" option hadn't started yet, we had two small children whose energy levels rise and fall like that of energetic hummingbirds, and mostly because the already picked apples looked really good. It was hard to choose among the varieties, so we got a handful of each. 

In the photo at right, clockwise from the top left: Braeburn, Spion, Cox, Golden and Boskoop. The Golden was huge and yellow-green, and tasted like a cross between a Golden Delicious and a Pippin. The Boskoop was a russet apple that balanced sweetness and tartness beautifully, with bursting juiciness. It was distinctly perfumey and featured a slight tropical fruit flavor akin to a green mango. The Spion was red and green, also very crisp and juicy. The Cox was a small red russet apple with pleasing tartness. The Braeburn, one of the flavor stars in Washington supermarkets, was crunchy and tart but not very juicy. It was very solid with an astringent finish and a grainy texture.

The majority of the apples picked had a date with the cider press. We bought a couple bottles of apple juice that had been pressed that morning. It was light brown, very slightly cloudy, and tasted absolutely alive. Nothing Treetop about these apples. They also offered bottles of lightly pasteurized juice. These tasted similar, though slightly less raw and alive.

To add to the shopping festivities, also available were bottles of homemade distilled brandy, or eau de vie, made from apples and pears. We had to buy a bottle of each. 

It is hard to determine what the best use of an apple is. Is it baked apples in a pastry? Apple butter or chunky apple sauce? Served crisp on a platter with some creamy gouda? Or is it applejack? I sampled a couple drams of apple brandy. It was grappa-esque, though with a softer and more pleasant bite. Letting it sit in a barrel for a few years would add to its resonance and elegance. 

Bringing the booty home (this being piratical booty, not something to be shaken or called), the first thing I did was to make an apple crisp using five apples, each variety making one layer. A little cinnamon and sugar, some crumble on top, and time in the oven--it was a delicious and warming treat for a chilly afternoon. Especially when accompanied by a pot of English Breakfast.