I’ve mentioned Gould Hill Orchards in Contoocook, New Hampshire, a few times
in these profiles. One reason is because it was my “home” orchard, as I grew up
only a few miles away. Another is because they discovered and introduced at least
two different apple varieties. One of these is the Hampshire (previously known as
“Brand X” before it was tested and confirmed as a unique variety by Cornell
University). The other one, never patent-protected so far as I know, is Kearsarge.
Mount Kearsarge is a prominent landmark on the southern edge of New
Hampshire’s Lakes Region. It sits north of Gould Hill, where it dominates the line
of sight in the middle distance (though on a clear day you can see all the way up to
the Presidential Range of the White Mountains). So when the late owner, Erick
Leadbeater discovered this unique apple growing among his other trees, giving it
this name was a no-brainer.
Kearsarge has never achieved even the limited fame of Hampshire since its
discovery decades ago. That’s a shame in my opinion, because it is a large, fair
apple, ideal for fresh eating, with crisp, juicy flesh. When I first tasted it years ago, I
thought its flavor surpassed Cortland, which as a youth was one of my favorite fall
apples. My friend Rich Stadnik considers its flavor better than Honeycrisp.
In recent years Kearsarge has become one of the apples I’ve tried to
promote in a small way, through public tastings and small markets, but chiefly by
grafting scions onto dormant rootstocks in the spring. Rich Stadnik helped establish
Kearsarge in the heirloom block at Alyson’s Orchard in Walpole, New Hampshire,
so that Gould Hill wouldn’t be the only place that grows it.
It’s a very slow process to popularize an apple variety when you don’t have
an “association” behind you to bankroll a public relations campaign. Yet I dare say
Kearsarge, for size and quality, matches or exceeds some of the modern university-
bred apples commonly found in supermarkets. But whereas Honeycrisp and other
typical varieties store extremely well for a long time, Kearsarge only has a brief
season each year. This is doubtless one reason it hasn’t made much of a splash. It's
far more suited to home growers and small retail orchards.
Since it’s a modern and very obscure apple, very little is known in the
literature about Kearsarge. In fact, the only person who has described it in recent
years was my late friend Tom Burford, the seventh-generation Virginia apple
grower, whom I also mention a lot in these profiles. I introduced Tom to
Kearsarge, and he was impressed enough with it to include it in his 2013 book,
Apples of North America. Yet what he (and I) lack in historical detail and intimate
growing knowledge, we make up in our enthusiasm for a rare apple that both of us
appreciated. I hope there’s enough interest in it to pass it along to future
generations of apple growers.