Gravenstein (the -stein is usually pronounced “steen”) is one of the oldest and most
well-traveled apples in the world, one that has been widely grown and highly
esteemed in North America for more than 200 years.
The variety’s origins, as with many heritage apples, are generally well-
established, but subject to a bit of debate. One theory is that came from the
southern Tyrol region of Italy in the early 17 th century and from there traveled to
northern Germany. It arrived in Denmark in 1669 and is so popular there that
some years ago the Danes designated it as their national apple. From there it
spread to England, Sweden, and Russia, and in 1790 it came to the eastern U.S.
Many sources believe that it was brought by Russian settlers to Fort Ross in
Sonoma County, California, in 1820 (one source says 1812, while others poo-poo
the whole idea). If true, though, I believe that Gravenstein holds the distinction of
being the only apple to be independently introduced on both the East and West
coasts.
Whatever the case, Gravenstein has assimilated well to growing in America,
and it’s still an important older variety that’s grown from northern California and
the Pacific Northwest to New England and the Canadian Maritimes. In and
around Sebastopol in Sonoma County, Gravenstein was the dominant local
variety. In fact, I have some cidermaking friends who live in Sebastopol along the
aptly nicknamed Gravenstein Highway. In recent years, however, the number of
trees has dwindled, with orchards giving way to more (and more lucrative)
vineyards. Recognizing this trend, the international Slow Food organization
created a Gravenstein Apple of Sonoma County Presidium (a Latin term that
translates to “fortress” or “stronghold”), in an effort to protect and promote this
historic apple in California.
And now, a personal confession. Some years ago, although I love the Slow
Food folks in California, I grew weary of hearing how incredibly superior their
Gravensteins were compared with the variety as grown elsewhere in the world. So I
decided to conduct a blind taste test. The timing was tricky, as the California
Gravensteins are harvested in mid-August, a few weeks before ours are ready in
New England. But I had an acquaintance ship a few Sonoma Gravs to me around
Labor Day and assembled my taste panel. Alongside those apples I put up some
just-picked New Hampshire Gravs and some “red Gravensteins” that had tree-
ripened and colored up a bit more than the “green Gravs.” We cut, we sniffed, we
tasted…and the general consensus was that all of the apples had that distinctive
Gravenstein flavor, and all of them were equally good. It’s true, the Sonoma
County apples were a bit sweeter, but that’s not surprising because of the warmer
climate they’d grown in.
So why has Gravenstein endured for so long as a popular variety? Well, one
reason is that it’s among the best late-summer apples for fresh eating, with a
balanced sweetness and mild acidity, rather than being overly tart like other early
apples. In a sense it ushers in the main season of fall apples at a time of year when
we are craving some good-tasting eaters.
In California, the warmer climate greatly limits the storage life of
Gravenstein, and in fact most of the fruit is sold and processed into apple juice or
applesauce as soon as possible after picking. Here in the Northeast we are a bit
more flexible, though the fruit is at its best eating quality for only a short time, a
few weeks to perhaps a month after harvest. As mentioned above I’ve also seen the
apples hang fairly well on the tree in New Hampshire without dropping, and the
fruits ripen over a period of time, the later ones achieving a redder color and
somewhat higher Brix (sugar level). There are also several other strains or varieties
of Gravenstein, like Bank’s Gravenstein in Nova Scotia and another Red
Gravenstein that was developed in Germany in the late 19 th century.
Not long after picking the skin of the apple gets waxy, and after a few weeks,
even in ideal cold storage, the flesh starts to soften and becomes more suited to
sauce-making than fresh eating.