Red Astrachan

Most people consider Labor Day the official kickoff to fall and, by extension, apple

season. But in fact, there are many fine apples that ripen in late summer. The

reason most of them aren’t widely grown or well known today is that they tend to

have only a brief storage window, and because they also have greater acidity than

the balanced sweet/tart flavor of later, higher-quality dessert apples. In fact, these

summer apples frequently echo the opinion of my late friend Tom Burford, who

would say that every apple variety has its “15 minutes of absolute perfection” when

it is at peak flavor and ripeness. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but it does drive

home the point that sometimes we need to live in the present and value what we

have today rather than putting everything away “in storage” for later enjoyment.

I have always loved Red Astrachan because they were one of the first two

apples to ripen at Gould Hill Farm, the New Hampshire orchard near where I

grew up. In early to mid August for many years I could count on finding both

Astrachan and Mantet (a cross between McIntosh and the Russian apple Tetofsky).

Both of these early varieties were especially important to me because they not only

meant early pies and applesauce, but more importantly because they were

harbingers of a new season of local apples.

So devoted was I to Red Astrachan that, back around 1989 or 1990, I

actually submitted an applesauce I’d made with 100 percent Astrachans to a

national competition, and was awarded second prize (no cash award, sadly, but I

enjoyed bragging rights). As usual, I tried to emphasize the quality of the fruit,

using as little sugar as possible and providing only a hint of seasoning by placing a

few whole spices in a cheesecloth bag and adding it to the apples while they cooked

down into a puree. Red Astrachan is so flavorful that it doesn’t need a lot of tarting

up.

The story of how Red Astrachan arrived in North America is similar to that

of several other Russian apples. The variety was reported as being grown in

Sweden sometime before 1780, and then it spread to England, where a man

named William Atkinson grew it in Paddington around 1816. It came to America

in 1835, sent to the Massachusetts Horticultural Society, and was soon recognized

for its hardiness, vigor, quality, and early bearing. Rowan Jacobsen writes in his

excellent book, Apples of Uncommon Character, that the apple was also sent to the

US again in 1870 from the St. Petersburg Botanical Garden, further bolstering its

reputation and popularity throughout much of North America.

As mentioned above, the main drawback of Astrachan is its short storage life,

which is common to apples that ripen so early in the season. The fruits mature

unevenly over an extended period, so they need to be monitored frequently and

tested for ripeness. Slightly unripe apples are fine for processing, while ripe fruits

are very good for early pies or even eating out of hand if you like a tart, but very

flavorful apple.

I recall one year when we experienced an August heat wave in New

Hampshire and an orchardist friend told me to go out and pick as many

Astrachans from his tree as I liked. I was thrilled, but when I got out to the tree, the

mid-90s temperatures had taken their toll, and a lot of the fruits had split open

while still clinging to the branches; others had dropped, littering the ground.

Terrific for the yellow jackets, not so great for me.

I mention this sad story only to make the point that Red Astrachan can be a

splendid apple to grow in the home garden or small community orchard for true

apple aficionados, but its limitations make it unsuitable for any commercial

purposes beyond perhaps one or two weeks of sales at the local farmers market.