I often refer to different apple varieties as either “heritage” or “modern,” fully
recognizing that these terms are just shorthand, fluid and not especially relevant.
For our purposes, though,“heritage” refers to a variety that’s been around for at
least 100 years—typically ones that originated prior to 1900. Mutsu, which first
fruited in 1937, thus belongs to the “modern” filing cabinet in my head. For years
it’s been grown as a popular market apple in North America and Europe, as well as
in its native Japan. In the UK and Europe, it’s called ‘Crispin’, which is certainly
descriptive. Yet I prefer the American name, ‘Mutsu’, which honors the region of
northern Honshu where it was developed.
Specifically, Mutsu was bred as an intentional cross between Golden
Delicious and Indo, another Japanese variety. In size and shape it is certainly closer
to Indo than Golden Delicious, but with a smooth surface rather than the ribbed
appearance of its Japanese parent. It was developed at the famous Aomori
Research Station, and first introduced to the US in 1948. (Both Japan and the US
were rather preoccupied, to say the least, during the preceding decade.)
Mutsu is a wonderful apple that possesses many fine qualities and few if any
negative ones. It is sweet and crunchy, with breaking, very juicy, yellow flesh (a
hallmark of so many of our truly modern “supermarket” apples today). But the
flavor, given the right seasonal growing conditions, has a pleasing spicy note that
some people perceive as anise (though never in an in-your-face way for those, like
me, who are not big fans of licorice). The apple is versatile: it’s great for fresh
eating; the slices hold their shape in cooking; it stores beautifully through the winter
without shriveling; and it makes good juice or cider.
In Japan the apple is often grow in paper bags on the tree, to prevent insect
damage and to produce cosmetically perfect, almost Platonic, apples that are sold
for large sums of money. The Japanese have a passion for growing and purchasing
“perfect” fruits to give as gifts on special occasions. A bit obsessive, perhaps, but it
wouldn’t hurt Americans to occasionally adopt a more reverential attitude toward
our orchard fruits, and the people who grow them, rather than a strictly
commercial or utilitarian view.
The first time I focused seriously on Mutsu was when I experimented with
fermenting a number of single-variety ciders just to see what they would taste like. I
used to buy Mutsu apples as late as Valentine’s Day at an orchard in Londonderry,
New Hampshire—a town that once boasted no fewer than five apple orchards.
Today only one survives: Mack’s Apples. The rest have been bulldozed and today
grow only houses, apartments, and shopping centers for the burgeoning population
of commuters to nearby Boston. But as is typical with this sort of rapid and rampant
growth, the names of these ex-urban developments bear names that mock
the very nature and culture of what they have supplanted: Apple Hill, Deer Run,
etc.
At any rate, at the end of the storage season Mack’s not only had bins of
lovely Mutsus sitting around the barn but also their own single-variety Mutsu sweet
cider. Like some other apples (Golden Russet comes to mind), Mutsu makes a
delicious, refreshing juice all by itself. It has a lot of sweetness, which makes it a
good candidate for fermentation, and in fact it does produce a decent alcoholic
cider. However, as is the case with Golden Russet, in my opinion the single-variety
hard cider is rather one-dimensional. That’s not a knock on it—it’s just that few
apples achieve a “vintage quality” all by themselves, and they tend to improve
greatly with the addition of juice from at least one other apple variety with
complementary qualities.