People often ask me when I’m introduced to them as an “apple guy,” which apple
is my favorite. That’s an impossible (and somewhat ridiculous) question of course,
because of the apple’s wide diversity of flavors, seasons, and uses. But, pressed to
name my three or five “desert island” varieties (apples grow on desert islands?), I
would feel comfortable with picking Esopus Spitzenburg--or “Spitz” as it’s known,
to save the effort involved in pronouncing its full and distinguished name every
single time.
I also say, when I do apple lectures or tastings, that I wish I had a parrot so I
could train it to sit on my shoulder and reply when I said “Esopus Spitzenburg”:
“Awk! Thomas Jefferson’s favorite apple. Awk!” That’s the first thing people
remember about this classic old variety, which originated in Ulster County, New
York, and was known before 1776. Spitz was definitely one of Jefferson’s favorite
apples: In 1790 he ordered a dozen trees to plant at Monticello from William
Prince’s early American nursery on Long Island. Yet he could never grow it
successfully in his climate; my late friend Tom Burford once told me that Jefferson
tried planting it 15 times and it never survived, probably because of this variety’s
greatest Achilles heel—the bacterial disease known as fire blight (Erwinia
amylovora), to which it is very susceptible. At one time fire blight was a much
bigger problem in the humid South and Mid-Atlantic states; however, today
(thanks again for nothing, climate change) it’s become endemic to regions further
north. Controlling fire blight involves careful monitoring of the trees, and cutting
out infected branches at the first signs of the disease (a burnt-looking “shepherd’s
crook” at the end of a branch). One year, failing to do that, an old orchardist friend
of mine let fire blight run wild in his four Spitz trees, with the result that the
infection started oozing out of the trees’ main stem (yuck). At that point, the only
thing he could do was break out the chainsaw and remove the trees—far, far
away—committing them to the fire.
So why would I, or anyone, so passionately love an apple that’s in many
ways quite prone to disease and otherwise problematic? One word: flavor. To me,
Spitz is the quintessential American dessert fruit. Its “high” flavor (sweetness
balanced with bracing acidity when tree-ripe) is truly unmatched. And when the
apple is stored for a month or two it mellows beautifully, the flavor becoming
deeper and richer. Which is another argument for keeping orchards open at least
until Thanksgiving or Christmas, so that we can taste Spitz and other similar
apples (see Ashmead’s Kernel) at their absolute best.
S.A. Beach in the classic 1905 reference, The Apples of New York,
considered Spitz to be of the “best quality” for fresh eating. And yet it’s also an
exceptional multipurpose apple. One little-known fact is that Esopus Spitzenburg
was the apple used to make the original Waldorf salad at New York’s Waldorf
hotel; it’s perfect for that use because the apple chunks or slices resist browning.
That’s also why it makes a superior dried apple. Spitz is great for making pies as
well. And in recent years, America’s cidermakers have discovered that it is
especially useful, providing a balance of sugar and acid with a boatload of bright
flavor.