The Lady apple, known in Europe as Pomme d’Api or simply Api, is one of our
oldest-known varieties. It dates back to at least the late 1500s and was reportedly
grown in the royal gardens of King Louis XIII in Orleans in 1628.
Some people once held the opinion that the variety was even older than that
and that it might in fact be the ancient Roman apple Pliny the Elder referred to as
Appia in the 1 st century CE. However this theory has been largely rejected, and
most agree the name derives from the place where it was first discovered, the Forest
of Apis in Brittany.
Whatever its provenance, Lady is a sweet little apple, two inches or less in
diameter, with a glossy skin that’s a pale creamy white blushed deep crimson red
on the exposed sun side. That rouge color or “painting” no doubt inspired old
authors to associate the apple with ladies’ makeup, as did the story that French
ladies of quality once held a fragrant little Api in their handkerchief as they rode
through the streets, to offset the not-so-sweet odors of the urban landscape.
Popular in England and North America since the 19 th century, Lady’s beauty
and diminutive size were popular for specific culinary and decorative uses. It was
one of the smaller apples often roasted and added to a wassail drinking bowl in
midwinter, when revelers bless the trees and scare any potential evil spirits out of
the orchard with torches and loud noises. (I’m looking at you, plum curculio!) My
old friend Tom Burford used to make a whiskey punch or cocktail he called Jack
and the Lady, in which he floated a whole Lady apple.
Lady was also associated with winter celebrations through its use as a
decoration in so-called Della Robbia-style wreaths, which combine evergreen plant
materials with fresh fruits and herbs. Burford told me years ago that the reason for
this was not only that the apples were dainty and looked lovely, but that Lady
could hold up to below-freezing temperatures for some time on an outdoor wreath,
instead of shriveling up like other apples.
Perhaps because it’s so small and not so widely grown these days, Lady is not
considered by most people as a cider apple, but I would definitely use it in my press
schedule if I had a good supply. Though small, it is certainly no smaller than the
Hewes Crab, Wickson, or other small cider apples. The important thing to know,
whether for fresh eating or cider use, is that the flavor and fragrance reside mainly
in the skin of the apple, not the white flesh.
There are a few related varieties or strains of this apple, including most
prominently the ‘Api Etoile’ with its lobed, star-shaped appearance. I have yet to
try any of these varieties that surpass the original Api/Lady, though Joan Morgan
in her New Book of Apples (2002) mentions an ‘Api Noir’ that is said to be about as
old and equal in flavor.