Dr. Bob Weeden checks out the many varieties of apples he grows, as seen here in his cold room at Whims Farm on Salt Spring Island.
Dr. Bob Weeden checks out the many varieties of apples he grows, as seen here in his cold room at Whims Farm on Salt Spring Island.
Apples appear several times in the Bible, including this verse from the Song of Solomon (2:5): “Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love” (King James version). The World English Bible translation is: “Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples; for I am faint with love.”
Apples are used in many desserts like apple pie, apple crumble, apple crisp, and apple cake, and spreads such as apple butter and apple jelly. They can be baked, stewed, dried, or covered in toffee. Puréed apples make applesauce.
A toffee apple is a traditional confection made by coating an apple in hot toffee and allowing it to cool. Similar treats are candy apples, coated in crystallized sugar syrup, and caramel apples, coated with caramel.
Apples are eaten with honey at the Jewish New Year of Rosh Hashanah to symbolize a sweet new year.
It was Friday night and at least two popular bands were playing at local pubs on Salt Spring Island—tough competition for a lecture on apple-growing by an eighty-four-year-old expert from Seattle. So as I drove to the Lions Hall, I thought, “How embarrassing if no one shows up.” Even more concerning was the fact that this marked one of my first introductions to the world of apples and I was well aware of my lack of expertise. I hoped I wouldn’t be put on the spot amid this cozy group of what couldn’t amount to more than ten people, and be forced to reveal my lack of apple knowledge.
The first clue that apples were bigger than popular bands occurred as I attempted to find parking in the crowded lot outside the hall. Then I stepped through the door and faced some fifty people, rows and rows of chairs, desserts, coffee, tea, and a buzz of apple-growing chatter.
As the evening unfolded, I realized there exists a boundless wealth of information about apples, and people like Dr. Bob Norton have dedicated lifetimes to mining it. Dr. Norton has been growing apples since he was eighteen. He ran a tree-fruit testing program at Washington State University for over 30 years, and was responsible for testing 325 apple varieties, including Washington’s first French and English cider varieties. Dr. Norton travelled the world, looking at apple cultivars for this program, both new and heritage varieties, aiming to find apples suited to growing in the Pacific Northwest. He also compiled a list of heritage apples cultivated in this part of the world prior to 1917. He’s an in-demand commodity at apple-identification tables—a guru to people like Clay Whitney—and is known for introducing the “firm, crisp and flavourful” Jonagold to commercial orchardists in the Puget Sound region. (Jonagold, a cross between Golden Delicious and Jonathan, was originally developed at Geneva, New York, in 1943.)
Dr. Bob Weeden with one of his Red Gravenstein trees. Fifteen of the original apple trees, planted around 1924, still exist and produce apples at Whims Farm.
With a background in both chemistry and biology, Dr. Norton was able discuss in detail solutions to various apple-growing problems, and answer the many questions put to him at the meeting about everything from mason bees to chip-budding. I became more and more dazed at the depth of information.
As my apple research continued I met a lot of apple people, some knowledgeable but incomprehensible, and others, like orchardist Dr. Bob Weeden, who were both informative and blessedly understandable. Like Dr. Norton, Bob has learned through trial and error (but at a grassroots level) about the “dos and don’ts” of apple growing. His love of history and the poetic word add another level of intrigue to his story. And through him, I discovered Janaki Larson, a forward-thinking grocery store owner, who sells Bob’s heritage apples in Vancouver. As I stood back from my research, I liked the way these three people, though entirely different, were connected at the core by a love of heritage apples. Each, in his or her way, was contributing to the knowledge, understanding, and perpetuation of this living link to our past.
Bob’s background is based in academia. A biology professor at the University of Alaska, Bob also focussed on environmental ethics and politics, and was one of the first to recognize the significance of environmental law as it was emerging. Over the years, he has evolved from scientist to naturalist and now, from professor to orchardist. He is the cultivator of 120 different varieties of old apples. Some of these are unnamed and unknown, grafted, for example from trees found on the roadside near his seventeen-acre farm on Salt Spring Island.
“There is a tree on Beddis Road that I watched for a couple of years,” he told me. “It was a big tall tree with big green apples.”
He snipped a twig, grafted it, and now has a tree of the same variety growing in his orchard. It has no name, but it’s a good apple—one of the few chance seedlings that tastes good.
“It’s such a long shot, though. To go through the whole grafting process and wait for fruit on a tree that you don’t know anything about.”
Bob’s decision to move from Alaska to Salt Spring and grow heritage apples—after having not “even seen an apple tree in thirty years”—marked the intertwining of several factors. His life in Alaska was busy as he worked and raised a family with his wife, Judy Weeden (now an accomplished potter on Salt Spring), and it became important as he looked toward retirement that he give back to the community.
“A lot of what I did was head work,” he said. “I was working, going to meetings, writing and lobbying—I didn’t do anything for the community. I was tired of working with my mouth. My dad was a hands-on person and I wanted to dig and plant and see what grows. I was in the mood to work with my hands. In teaching, you never really see the fruits of your labour. Working on a farm, the results are right there in front of you.”
One of Bob Weeden’s late-ripening heritage apple varieties—Seaford —was taken from a seedling from a now-defunct nursery on Bowen Island.
As a twelve-year-old boy living in New England, Bob earned money by picking up windfall apples at a commercial orchard. He enjoyed the money—a boy in the Depression didn’t get to see many coins—but also, he remembers the apples: “The smell of McIntosh was very much a part of my youth. People didn’t plough or scorch the earth to keep the bugs down in those days, so sitting under a tree, eating a windfall apple, was very different than today. You’d be sitting in a field of flowers and grass,” he recalls. “I always had an idea that someday I would like to grow those trees—the McIntosh, Wolf Rivers, Northern Spies, and Golden Russets of my New England youth.”
Intervening school and work years didn’t dim the nostalgia, so when he pondered retirement, “a yearning to grow apples rose to the surface.” He and Judy first visited Salt Spring on a bicycle trip in 1987. They returned the following year and bought Whims Farm, a parcel of land that still had trees planted by the owner’s father in 1924. Fifteen original trees still exist, including Kings, Gravensteins, Golden Russets, a Red Astrachan (Russia, 1800s), a Baldwin, a Rhode Island (one of the oldest known American apples, 1650s), and an old crabapple, described as “sweet for a crab, but still pretty tart and small.”
A few years later, in the early 1990s, several other farmers started thinking about adding heritage apples to their endeavours, and Bob joined the process. One of the people leading the heritage apple revival at the time was Renée Poisson, who ran Tsolum River Fruit Trees in Merville on Vancouver Island. Renée had over three hundred types of heritage apples and pears and “played a big role in carrying on the traditional varieties,” says Jane Lighthall, of Denman Island Heritage Apple Trees, a small business that propagates and sells over ninety types of heritage trees on Denman, a small island just east of Vancouver Island. The Denman business started in part because of the niche created when Renée retired, but the boon to Salt Spring growers was even bigger as they split her collection of three hundred trees, and moved them, with the help of a grant from the Canadian Organic Growers Association.
“I got close to 100 trees,” Bob said. “Some died over the next decade but I replaced them with scions from other nurseries. My orchard, now 18 years or so in the making, has 120 varieties of apples and this year bore close to 4 tons of fruit.”
At one point Bob had 170 varieties among his 200 trees, but he lost several dozen to canker. He has stopped replacing them because the orchard is a lot of work—at 78, Bob grows, harvests, and sells all his apples on his own. “The curve of production is going up,” he laughed, “as my level of energy is going down.”
Luckily, the trees ripen at different times, with the first of the Gravensteins ready in mid-August, and the bulk of the harvest plucked throughout September and the first two weeks of October. Finally come the late-ripening varieties, like Seaford (from a seedling from a now-defunct nursery on Bowen Island), which is not ready to eat until after Christmas. Some, like the Yellow Transparent (Russia, before 1870) “come so quickly with the sugar turning to starch, they have to be picked in two days.”
Typically, one quarter to one third of Bob’s crop is pressed into apple juice (yielding about 150 two-litre jugs), which can then be frozen, stored, and sold all year round.
“The secret of good juice,” Bob said, “is mixing different varieties of apples.” However, he always ensures he has Golden Russets in the batch because “they have a nice deep colour and add body, so the juice won’t be thin.”
Bob chose medium-sized, semi-dwarf rootstock for his most of his trees, but put the Gravensteins on standard (larger) size, because they are genetically more vigorous. His Gravensteins are about twenty feet tall while his other trees range from fourteen to sixteen feet. Like Harry Burton, Bob is not a fan of dwarfing rootstock, because the resulting trees have poorer root development, and need more water and fertilizer.
Dwarfs have advantages, he said, especially to commercial growers, as they mature faster, taking two to three years to bear fruit compared to six to seven years. “You can pick them without a ladder, but so can deer. Commercial orchards are willing to deal with water, fencing, and fertilizing for the convenience. The savings in labour are huge. And because the fashions in apples change rapidly, they don’t want to plant a tree that will be producing for fifty years—it’s better to tear out twelve-year-old trees that already have produced crops for nine or ten.”
Bob’s interest in heritage apples, combined with his academic background and membership in the BC Fruit Testers Association, prompted him to travel to smaller, sparsely populated islands around Salt Spring—Parker, Wallace, Portland—and reproduce via grafting some of the heritage apple trees in old, often overgrown orchards there. He also visited fifty-five farms on Salt Spring and created a list of apples currently in production and, as well, researched varieties grown before 1920, compiling another list.
A youngster enjoys a little fun amid a huge pile of apples during one of Salt Spring’s famous apple festivals.
PHOTO: DERRICK LUNDY
Bob is also a writer and has published a beautifully poetic, first-person account of apple history, Tian Shan and Chuan.1
“I float through forty million years of yesterdays . . . Close by is an apple, its dangling, bitter fruit small and undistinguished. The forest is east of Eden, beyond Nod, on a sprawling, fertile plain which later will be called China.”
From here, he follows “the way of the apple” as it spreads across the world, propagating in the wild and then through the “transforming” invention of grafting. Finally, he arrives at his orchard on Chuan (the Native name for Salt Spring), and eloquently traces the history of some of his own apples.
“I am, I think, a man imitating an orchardist. I hold a basket, the basket holds the harvest of ten million years. In it is a decorative branchlet of Lady apples, cheerfully red and green, exact copy of a fruit found or brought by the westering soldiers of the Roman Empire, saved from barbarians later by Cistercean monks . . . There are Calvilles, lumpy and freckled but lively to the taste. Claude Monet painted this apple; Richard Harris, fruiterer in East Kent, brought supplies of this kitchen queen for the enjoyment of Henry VIII during beheadings.
“I have picked three Catheads in hope that they will become a well-cinnamoned pie. The Cathead was grown in England when Acadians and Pilgrims readied for sailings to the New World. Given its productivity and rebellious shapes, twigs of the Cathead might well have been among the cargo of the tiny ships . . .”
Bob’s lyrical essay is based, in part, on Dr. Barrie Juniper and David Mabberley’s The Story of the Apple.
Bob’s interest in the historical anecdotes of his apples is compelling, but he’s also part of the future of heritage apples, this year sending three hundred pounds—including Kandil Sinap, Golden Russet, King, Gravenstein, and Smokehouse (Pennsylvania, 1837)—to a specialty food store in Vancouver. Le Marché St. George, run by sisters Janaki Larsen and Klee Larsen-Crawford as well as Janaki’s partner, Pascal Roy, is a niche grocery store, riding the wave of the Slow Food Movement, located in a residential neighbourhood between Main and Fraser Streets.
“Most neighbourhood stores sell cigarettes and lotto, cards, and junk food,” Janaki explained. “We thought it would be more interesting to revisit the classic concept of a general store. We stock everything from organic farm eggs, milk, artisan cheeses, sausage, to flour and spices. For produce we are trying only to carry local and in season.”
Janaki spent some of her teen years living near an old apple orchard and she “loved nothing more than walking out my front door, across the field, to pick apples right off the trees. I loved their unrivalled flavours, their perfect textures, and imperfect skins.”
She said it’s difficult to find heritage apples in the city—even organic distributors aim to sell apples chosen for their consistent shapes, perfect skins, and conformity. “I am more interested in real food, not in a trendy way, but in the way that I had access to these kinds of foods growing up. We carry as many heritage varieties of produce as we can.”
Of Bob’s apples, Janaki said, the Kings were by far the most popular. “The more conventional of the heritage apples sold first. People definitely stick with the things they are familiar with. I personally loved the Turkish ones.”
The biggest challenge of selling the apples, she added, is that people still expect their “heritage, organic, local” apple to look perfect. But of the three hundred pounds they purchased from Bob in October, only ten pounds remained in December. “I thought they did very well. People were very excited to see them and try them out.”
She sees Vancouver as a “food-savvy city,” noting that consumers, and especially chefs, know their stuff and are always looking for something new.
“The movement for local food is very strong, but I still think the area of ‘heirloom’ produce is under-utilized and under-marketed. I think that will be the next wave of ‘it’ foods.”
Golden Russets make superb baked apples. A key ingredient in the cored apple, besides brown sugar or maple syrup, is mincemeat.
Cathead, Bramley’s Seedling, and Gravensteins make good pies. Sugar to taste, then a dash of lemon. Overcooking makes apples mushier.
Several early-season apples are great for sauce. Yellow and Red Gravensteins are equal in texture and taste, but Red Gravenstein makes a pink sauce. So do Red Astrakhans, which are hardy and grow well here on the West Coast.
Taste and appearance: The ugly exterior of this misshapen, green apple belies a sublime interior. The flesh is tender, juicy, and rich-flavoured.
Use: Eating fresh, cooking, and juice. It holds its shape in cooking, but if cut into small pieces, it will dissolve into a rich, sharp-textured purée.
History: Originated in Normandy, France, around 1598, where it was grown by Louis XIII. In America, Thomas Jefferson is said to have grown it at Monticello.
Growing and harvesting: The trees do best in warm soil against a sunny wall or bank and need long, hot summers to mature. Picked in late October, the fruit keeps until January.
Other: It is said to have a higher vitamin C content than an orange.
Taste and appearance: A medium-large, flat-round, yellow-striped red apple. Flesh is crisp, white, and juicy, with a tart and tangy flavour.
Use: Eating fresh and cooking—especially salads as the slices are unusually slow to brown.
History: Released from the New York State Agricultural Experiment Station in Geneva in 1915.
Growing and harvesting: Can be prone to scab and canker. Picked in late September, it keeps until January (or May in controlled storage).
Other: A cross between Ben Davis and McIntosh. Widely grown in Quebec and Ontario, having proven well-suited to freezing temperatures.
PHOTO: CLAY WHITNEY
Taste and appearance: Cathead is one of the oldest apples known in England. The name comes from its alleged resemblance to a cat’s head—the shape is unusually conical and can be ribbed.
Use: Primarily cooking. The flesh is juicy with a fair amount of acidity, but does not need much additional sugar when cooking.
History: Originated in the early 1600s, possibly from the Severn Valley in England. One source claims Cathead is the first known variety planted by early settlers in Virginia, possibly as early as 1620.
Growing and harvesting: Easy to grow but slow to start bearing fruit. Ripens in mid- to late season.
Taste and appearance: Tall, slender, cone-shaped apple, with such a narrow base it hardly stands upright. Creamy, yellow, porcelain-like skin with red blush. Crisp, juicy, fine-textured flesh, excellent flavour.
Use: Eating fresh and cooking (purée, applesauce, apple butter).
History: From Turkey (but a few sources say Russia) in the early 1800s. It was sold commercially in Great Britain by the 1860s.
Growing and harvesting: Dwarfish tree grows in narrow, pyramidal form. Picked in mid-October and keeps until February.
Other: Because of its excellent flavour and unusual shape, it is becoming popular with apple connoisseurs in North America.
Apple-Onion Tarts
1 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 Tbsp unsalted butter
3 medium apples, peeled, cored, halved, and sliced ¼-inch thick
8 medium yellow onions, halved and thinly sliced
3 Tbsp cider vinegar
½ tsp coarse salt
2 Tbsp chopped fresh rosemary
1 cup (or 2–3 oz) coarsely grated manchego cheese
freshly ground pepper, to taste
6 3-inch frozen tart shells
Heat oil and butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add apples and onions, and cook until golden brown, about 15 minutes. Cover, reduce heat to low, and cook until very soft and caramelized, about 35 minutes. Add vinegar and salt, and cook 5 minutes. Let cool. On a baking sheet, lay out tart shells, sprinkle with chopped rosemary. Using a spoon, add 3 tablespoons apple-onion purée to fill each tart shell. Sprinkle each with 2 tablespoons cheese. Season with pepper. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Bake until edges are golden brown, 20 to 25 minutes. Serve tarts warm or at room temperature.