Without a doubt, Northern Spy is the absolutely coolest name for an apple,
reminiscent of classic cloak-and-dagger fiction by John le Carre or Ian Fleming.
There’s no real agreement as to how it got its sexy name, or whether it is even the
original one. Some people think it was a corruption of “Northern Pie” or
“Northern Spice” (both plausible suggestions), but others, as early as the 1850s,
linked the name to an anonymously published blood-and-thunder pro-Abolition
novel titled The Northern Spy, which dates to 1830. (For a great account of this
book, check out Rowan Jacobsen’s terrific description in Apples of Uncommon
Character.)
Fortunately, the history of the apple itself is a lot more straightforward. It
was first grown as a seedling tree by Herman Chapin in East Bloomfield, New
York, from pips brought from Salisbury, Connecticut, sometime before 1800. The
story goes that the original tree was destroyed before it even bore fruit by “mice”
(or voracious voles?), but that cuttings were taken from the tree before it gave up
the ghost and the variety was saved and regrown sometime around 1800, then
introduced to the wider world about forty years later.
I have always had great affection for Northern Spy, not only because it’s
delicious for fresh eating and superb in late-season pies, but also because of its
remarkable keeping qualities. When I was a boy—and it was still possible to find
local apple growers who kept their fruit in cold storage and sold it throughout the
winter—I would routinely find Northern Spies for sale in April at Gould Hill Farm
in Contoocook: it was usually the last variety to remain in good condition at that
late date.
In more recent years, as I explored the world of cider, I began to associate
Northern Spy with New York cider producers. Whether they’re located in the
Hudson River Valley or much further west in the Finger Lakes region, cider
makers in the Empire State love their Spies, which grow well on fertile, well-
drained slopes and ferment into complex, wine-like ciders with a very distinctive
minerality. Autumn Stoescheck at Eve’s Cidery, who has been making varietal
Northern Spy ciders since the early 2000s, describes other typical flavors as briny
and lemony, making for a palate-cleansing, food-friendly drink.
It’s nice to know that, in addition to Northern Spy’s many other virtues, it
has contributed so much to the American Cider Renaissance. When I first toured
the Finger Lakes region in the mid-1990s, researching my book Cider, Hard and
Sweet, I found a lot of wineries, but only two commercial cider producers, Bill
Barton at Bellwether and Autumn Stoescheck at Eve’s. Today, though, I can’t keep
count of the number of people in western New York who are making and selling
world-class ciders.