As with many older apples, there’s a bit of confusion surrounding Pumpkin Sweet.
Is it the same as the apple called Pound Sweet, or are they two distinct varieties?
On the one hand, as the two photos show, the apple’s (or apples’) shape can
vary widely. Dan Bussey, in his encyclopedic Illustrated History of Apples in the
United States and Canada, gives a main listing under Pumpkin Sweet and
describes the fruit as: “Large to very large in size, roundish to roundish conic to
oblong, sometimes irregularly elliptical or prominently ribbed.”
Well, that description certainly covers a lot of ground, and in that sense both
apples pictured fall into the same bucket.
Aside from its shape-shifting tendencies, this variety is often described as
being yellow, and the 1912 painting in USDA’s Pomological Watercolor collection
certainly depicts a round fruit with a dull yellow skin. But this fruit was grown in
Manhattan, Kansas, in the middle of the country, whereas every Pumpkin (or
Pound) Sweet I’ve ever seen in New England has had green skin, sometimes
darker, more often a lighter yellowish green. This might well be explained by the
difference in climate; see also the debate over Green Newtown Pippin versus
Yellow Newtown (or Albemarle) Pippin.
In any case, it’s enough to give an apple researcher a right old ice cream
headache. However, to me the most persuasive evidence that this is indeed a single,
though highly variable, apple is that under both names the originator is listed as S.
Lyman of Manchester, Connecticut, with the date recorded as 1834. Two similar
apples sprouting from the same person at the same date would seem far too
coincidental.
So, I have officially resigned from the ranks of the “splitters” and now agree
that Pound Sweet and Pumpkin Sweet are one in the same variety, though there
are different strains called by these two names, as well as similar apples (Pumpkin
Russet, etc.). Call it what you will, though, under the skin these apples are
essentially the same.
The whole topic of apples known as “sweets” or sometimes “sweetings” is
one that has fascinated me for years. The name refers to the lack of acidity in the
fruit, which allows for a perception of greater sweetness. But in fact, the mark of a
classic eating apple is a balance of sugar and acidity—something referred to as
“high flavor.” The best dessert apples, like Esopus Spitzenburg, exhibit this
balance, and the acidity is necessary to give a liveliness and interest on the palate.
Without much acidity, “sweets” tend to taste very bland.
So then why were there so many “sweets,” and why were they so popular in
former times? The answer, as usual, lies in the specific uses for the apples. Previous
generations didn’t have flawed taste buds; they just valued the sweet, low-acid
apples for other purposes. Pumpkin (Pound) Sweet is a great apple for baking or
frying, and historically it was stewed with quince (Cydonia oblonga). Even more
importantly it was extensively grown and used to make apple butter.
Tom Burford in Apples of North America writes that orchards of Pumpkin
Sweet were planted around Conneaut, Ohio, during the Civil War to make into
apple butter, which was shipped in kegs and barrels and sold for 10 to 25 cents a
gallon to both the northern and southern armies. I personally enjoy apple butter
made from balanced sweet-tart apples (something that my late friend Michael
Phillips called “fully puckered”), but back in early American times, sweets were
especially prized for not having the kind of acidity that gives a snappy flavor when
cooked down into apple butter or applesauce.
My first encounter with Pound Sweet (I still call it that) was in the early
2000s when I was exploring a back road in Westminster West, Vermont, and saw a
sign for Connecticut Valley Orchard (it’s since been renamed Higgins Hill
Orchard). This is an old orchard high up above the Connecticut River that
separates Vermont and New Hampshire. Coincidentally, it was established in
1912, the same year of that famous USDA watercolor just mentioned. The orchard
was a beautiful spot on a gorgeous fall day, but there wasn’t a soul in sight when I
parked and got out of the car. There were just the trees and an honor box for
payment. Looking around for heirloom varieties, I did find Esopus Spitzenburg
(one of my favorites), but also these unusual greenish globes identified as Pound
Sweet.
Taking them home, I cut into one and found it had water core—those little
glassy-looking “pools” that show up in the flesh of some apples. It’s caused by the
presence of sorbitol, an unfermentable sugar that’s more common in pears; the
increased concentration in the flesh causes moisture in the fruit to migrate to these
spots. So what causes it? Calcium deficiency in the soil is usually responsible,
although environmental conditions can also contribute to water core. And some
apples are more prone to it than others.
That said, there really isn’t a huge problem with water core; in fact, it can
make the fruit taste even sweeter on the palate. However, if there is a lot of it
throughout the flesh it can shorten storage life, or the watery spots may turn brown
and start to rot. In other words, it isn’t what a commercial grower wants to see for
shipping as a market apple, but for the rest of us it usually isn’t a fatal flaw.
At this point, in addition to starting to research historical uses of Pound
Sweet, I also began to wonder (as a cider maker) whether using this variety, or
other sweets would be useful in buffering more sharply acidic North American
apples in a cider blend. The jury is still out for me, because the availability of these
special apples is very limited, and due to the apple’s distinctive vegetal flavor notes.
But other old sweets (Tolman Sweet, in particular) definitely make good additions
to a cider blend, whether fresh or fermented.