A Tale of Two Apple Trees.

Saturday, we planted trees. Apple trees. To be more precise and risk sounding pretentious, we planted organic, heirloom apple trees.
 

I'm beyond excited.

I've coveted apple trees for awhile now. The thought of walking to the forest, plucking an apple, sitting by the river and eating a homegrown snack just sounds so...romantic. Plus, even our picky kiddos like apples. Honestly, who doesn't like apples? (Well, my niece does blow up like a balloon if she eats them, so I suppose we can count her out.)

Still, the dream of apples growing in our backyard seemed unrealistic.

Peter is an avid NPR listener. And on NPR, we have a terrific, local call-in gardening program, with experts from Clemson University's Home and Garden Information Center. During one of these segments, a caller asked about starting an apple orchard in our region. The hosts informed him that apples don't grow well in South Carolina, and he should pursue other ideas.

Our apple tree idea was—pardon the really bad pun—chopped down.

But then, last May when I was selling plants at the Slow Food Earth Market in Greenville, I had the pleasure of meeting Creighton Lee Calhoun, Jr. Mr. Calhoun's booth was next to mine, and he was promoting his book: Old Southern Apples: A Comprehensive History and Description of Varieties for Collectors, Growers, and Fruit Enthusiasts.

People were lined up, waiting for their turn to purchase this comprehensive tome of the pomme.

As I tagged plants and made change for customers, I told Mr. Calhoun of our apple plight and asked if he could recommend a variety that might do well in our garden. Mr. Calhoun devotes his life to pomology. I figured, if anyone knew an apple tree that could grow in our backyard—he was the man.

(Did you notice the inscription is written to Peter? I might have mentioned to Mr. Calhoun that my husband was a bit skeptical about growing apple trees after his NPR revelation.)

Finally, two weeks ago I ordered our Blacktwig apple trees from Trees of Antiquity. I adore this company's website. I felt like a kid in a candy shop—and could have spend a small fortune on fruit trees. But I resisted.

For now.

Sadly, our UPS guy didn't share the same reverence as I did for our apple trees. There's something—sacrilegious--about leaving Trees of Antiquity apples trees standing on their theoretical heads.

 

Fortunately, the company anticipated such treatment—the trees were well packed and unscathed by their upside down delivery.

The kids wanted to plant the trees immediately, but Peter needed to clear some space in the garden.

Both kids quickly adopted a tree—without any fuss. Truly, it's a testament to the company that they selected two trees that are compatible in shape and size. (And I'm a thankful mom that they did.)

Also impressive was the detailed instructions included with the shipment. Along with the trees, I decided to order a “starter kit” for each tree that included a tree guard, branch spreader, label, organic amendment, and humates. What can I say? After waiting this long for apple trees, I wanted to ensure the best start possible for them.

So, because it's almost spring and there's still time to plant fruit trees before the heat of summer makes planting rough not only on the gardener but also on the plants...here's a bit of information on how to plant an apple tree:

Selection

Choosing the variety you wish to grow is a personal preference, but it can also be based on climate, like with our selection. Do you prefer tart or sweet? Will you be eating fresh or cooking with the apples? And—does your tree need a buddy so it can be pollinated and produce fruit?

Any good catalog or website will give you specific information about the variety of apple you choose. For instance, here's what Trees of Antiquity showed about our selection:

BLACK TWIG
Arkansas 1868

“The ultimate in a tart apple. Fruit is medium to large with varying color, usually green to yellow skin that is streaked and flushed red. The yellow flesh is firm and fine grained with tannic juice that adds a kick to sweet or hard cider. Great for eating fresh or cooking, this apple is an excellent keeper and should be stored in the refrigerator for peak flavor.

Bloom: Late
USDA Zone: 6,7,8,9
Pollination: Required
Fruit Storage: Excellent
Mature Size: Medium
Ripens: Very Late
Uses: Fresh eating/ dessert, cooking (puree, applesauce, apple butter), juice/hard cider
Rootstock: Semi-dwarf
Size when shipped : 5/8 to 3/4 inch caliper (width around trunk)
Height prior to shipment: 6 ft.(trimmed to 5' when shipped)
Shape when shipped: Feathered (prominent side branching) and Whips (no branching)

Certified Organic

(Photo from Trees of Antiquity)

Size
If you hesitate to plant an apple tree due to space restrictions, you can find dwarf and semi-dwarf trees or train your tree into an espalier by pruning. You can also plant trees in containers, but you'll need to pay close attention to watering, as containers dry out quickly. Every two to three years, you will also need to replant the tree into a larger container with fresh soil and trim back some of the larger roots to ensure its health.

Our apple variety is grafted onto semi-dwarf root stock, which means the trees will reach an average height of 15 feet. The root stock helps control issues with pests and diseases. Dwarf root stocks typically grow 6-9 feet, which is ideal for containers or small areas.

After looking at different varieties, we took a family vote. Our green apple lover—who was outvoted—agreed that Blacktwig looked pretty delicious!

Site

Fruit trees require a minimum of 6 hours of sun daily. According to Trees of Antiquity, though, partial shade during the warmest hours of the day can improve the texture of apples, particularly in extremely hot climates like ours.


Our apple trees are surrounded by a forest, so Peter first prepped the site by cutting out dead trees and branches to ensure the apple trees would have adequate sun. We also battled some native vines that were overrunning the forest floor and cleared them out prior to digging the holes.

Planting

Peter dug holes slightly larger than the root system of the trees, and I added some finished compost into each hole. Don't add chemicals or fresh manure into the hole, as they can burn the tree roots.

We positioned the trees so that the graft line was about two inches above the soil surface, then filled the holes with the native soil, tamping down to avoid any air pockets.

Tree Guard

Because our trees are planted in the forest, we added tree guards to the trunks. The guards protect the trees from gnawing rodents, deer, and rabbits, plus it also prevents sun-scald. The spiral guard is perforated to prevent heat build up, and according to the directions, should be removed and reinstalled annually to prevent girdling.

The installation of the guard was easy—starting at the base, wrap upward to the first branch with the overlap of the spiral pointing upwards. Two minutes of time to install the guards, and they will hopefully keep our babies safe.

Watering/Fertilizing

I added more finished compost surrounding the trees, and our girlie spread the organic amendments around the trunk. The organic amendment was part of the “starter kit” I purchased. According to the information, it is certified organic and “...ready to provide the Nitrogen, Phosphorus, Potassium, and Calcium in plant available form. It is also alive with microbial life, humus, organic matter, humic acids, and more.”

In other words, good stuff!

In addition to the organic amendments, we also received a bottle of humates, which are comprised of humic and fulvic acids. These activate the availability of soil nutrients, mobilizing them for uptake by trees and plants.

And it is—whew—stinky.

We diluted the bottle of humates with a gallon of water, then watered the trees with it. (One gallon water and 4 tablespoons humates per tree.)

And finally, we added a layer of leaf mulch to the planting site.

Irrigation

Once the trees leaf out, they will require regular watering, at least twice a week throughout the first season. Always check the soil before watering, particularly with containers—which will most likely require daily watering.

And—that's it. Now, we wait.

Sunday morning, our girlie went out to the forest in her PJs to check on “her” tree.


The trees were still there, she reported. They hadn't walked away overnight. And they seemed "happy."

Now, I need to convince her to share "her" apples with us this fall!

Happy planting!

XO ~ Julie

About an apple.

It began with an apple. 

Years ago, when our oldest son, Tyler, was nine years old, we invited one of his neighborhood friends to join us on our annual apple orchard outing. Will is two years younger than Ty, and it just breaks my heart when I see this tall, muscular GUY next door shooting baskets. He's the youngest of Ty's neighborhood gang and always fought to keep up with the older boys. Soon he, too, will be off to college.

Sorry. A sentimental Mom-moment distracted me.

Anyway, we were out among the trees, and Peter picked a few apples. He handed one to each boy, then took a bite of his.

Will looked appalled.

“You can't do that,” he said, horrified.

“Don't worry, honey, we'll pay for everything when we get back.” What an honest boy, I thought.

“No,” he said, eyes wide. “You can't eat that.”

“Why not?”

Will looked at me like I was from another planet.

“It's not from Publix.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
 
It's fall, and I'm thinking about apples. And remembering Will's innocence.

I'm also hoping that our kids always know the origins of their food, whether or not they actually eat it. (That would be asking too much, with the exception of apples. Oh, and strawberries.)

With the arrival of fall, I know I'm not alone in my apple preoccupation. My Facebook page is filled with pictures of friends' families hunting Granny Smiths, Golden Delicious, Jonagolds.

This year, we branched out and tried a different orchard, one in North Carolina. Normally, we visit a local orchard that's ten minues from our house—but truthfully, we've always gone for the experience rather than the apples. The apples at our local orchard are tasteless, even a little mealy. This year, I wanted a good variety of flavorful apples, even if it meant forsaking our (very) local orchard.

I'm glad we did.

Sky Top Orchard is exactly that—a lush, rolling, mountain-top orchard with stunning views. Located in Flat Rock, North Carolina, we visited early in the season, but the parking area was packed. With 40 acres to roam, though, the only places we really bumped into other visitors (besides the parking lot) was in the apple cider donut line.

Can you believe that I never tasted an apple cider donut before this fall? It's was pure sugar and grease and deliciousness. Heaven.

I'm not an apple expert. I've gone apple picking every year for probably the past 18 years...and I still don't remember which varieties are tart (besides Granny Smith), which are good for cooking, which are best fresh. During our apple hunting, I was certain Peter searched for a variety of apple that didn't exist (“Jonathan” versus “Jonagold”—the one I was familiar with). I started to tell him in my know-it-all wife voice that his search was futile...until we found his variety already pre-picked.

I just hate when he's right.

After a lovely family outing, I decided it was time to increase my knowledge of apple varieties. I started doing some research and found a great article on Saveur. It's my go-to guide now.

Do we honestly think I stopped there?

I'm now completely smitten with heirloom apples.

(Poor Peter, I haven't told him about my newest obsession. He'll be reading it here.)

“Jonathan” is an heirloom variety. In fact, it's among the 129 varieties listed in Slow Food USA's Ark of Taste.

Do you know about the Ark of Taste? Here's a quote from Slow Food's website:

“The Ark is an international catalog of foods that are threatened by industrial standardization, the regulations of large-scale distribution and environmental damage. In an effort to cultivate consumer demand—key to agricultural conservation—only the best tasting endangered foods make it onto the Ark.

“Since 1996, more than 800 products from over 50 countries have been added to the international Ark of Taste. The US Ark of Taste profiles over 200 rare regional foods, and is a tool that helps farmers, ranchers, fishers, chefs, retail grocers, educators and consumers celebrate our country's diverse biological, cultural and culinary heritage.”

The apple is an American icon. However, of the approximate 14,000 varieties that evolved from the seeds brought into North America by English settlers, today only 11 varieties comprise 90 percent of all apples consumed in the U.S. Those 11 varieties that dominate the produce aisles are grown in large commercial orchards, easily packed and shipped to far away locales. The perfect, glossy globes attract consumers—but flavor is sacrificed for shipablility and presentation.

One of the goals of Slow Food is to make consumers aware of varieties that are dying out due to mass production. It's Economics 101. By experiencing the unique, richer flavor of heirloom varieties, consumers will begin requesting heirlooms, and farmers will find a market to continue producing tasty, regional fruits. Sounds simplistic, doesn't it?

Of course, it's a much larger challenge.

So, in my own small effort to support heirloom varieties, I'm researching nurseries and varieties and figuring out how to tell Peter that we need a small orchard near the river.

I'm sure he'll be delighted. Stay tuned...

Until then, I'm taking an inventory of the apples waiting in the refrigerator. Not only did we bring home dozens of apples from our family's Sky Top outing, Michael and I also brought home apples from his kindergarten field trip. 

It was a little sad. The kids picked apples—out of bins. So now, there's a generation of kids who think apples come from bins on farms. Hmm. Somehow, I don't think that was the point of the field trip.

Still, we are—literally—bursting with apples.

Fortunately, my family likes apples. They especially like apple desserts. Rather than my standard apple pie, I decided to try something new. I found a recipe on the blog, Orangette, for an excellent “Apple Tart Cake.” The author of the blog, Molly Wizenberg, stated that the tart is even better the second day. She's right. If you've never visited Orangette, please do. You'll be delighted.

So, before I get back to researching which heirloom apple trees would best fit my family's needs—some for eating fresh, some for cooking—I'm heading to the kitchen to make another Apple Tart Cake. You really want to try this recipe—it's easy, delicious, uses pantry staples, and has a rustic appeal. (My cake is not as pretty as the one on the Orangette blog, but it was tasty.)

You can use any variety of good, tart apples. What are your favorite varieties for cooking or fresh eating? I'd love to know.

So, head to the kitchen, pull out those apples from your orchard visit, and start peeling. You'll be so glad you did.

Apple Tart Cake
Adapted from Orangette, originally posted January 19, 2009

Ingredients:
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
5 Tbsp. cold unsalted butter, cut into a few pieces
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 large egg, lightly beaten
3 large Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, and sliced very thinly

For topping:
3 Tbsp. granulated sugar
3 Tbsp. unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 large egg

Preheat oven to 350°. Butter and flour a 9-inch springform pan.

Combine the sugar, flour, and baking powder in a bowl. (I used my KitchenAid mixer, which worked fine, but the original recipe calls for use of a food processor.) Add the butter. Mix until no large lumps remain. Add the vanilla and the egg. Blend well. Mixture will be crumbly. Dump mixture into the prepared springform pan, using your fingers to gently press it along the bottom of the pan. If the dough sticks to your fingers, like it did with mine, just put a tad of flour on your fingertips. Make a slight, gentle, upward curve at the edges to form a low rim. Arrange the apple slices over the base in a tight circular pattern. Really overlap them. I didn't  overlap the apples the first time I made it for fear they wouldn't cook well. My mistake. Place  the pan on the middle rack in the oven, and bake for 45 minutes.

While the cake/tart is baking, prepare the topping. Combine the ingredients in a small bowl, and whisk to blend well. After the cake has baked for 45 minutes, remove it from the oven, and pour the topping evenly over it. Bake for another 25 minutes or so, until the topping looks set. Transfer the pan to a wire rack, and cool for 20 minutes. Then run a thin knife around the edge to release any areas that may have stuck, and remove the sides of the pan. Cool completely before serving.

Enjoy!

Many Thanks.

For the past 12 hours, I’ve been in Thanksgiving Day prep mode. Honestly, with the exception of 15 minutes for lunch and about 45 minutes for dinner, this is the first time I’ve sat all day. I’m actually feeling pretty good about the amount of preparation accomplished today. Last year was the first Thanksgiving dinner that we hosted, and I was seriously stressed. My goal this year is to enjoy the process, and perhaps actually spend some time enjoying the day with my family. Please remind me of this goal tomorrow when I’m running around like a turkey sans head.

My goal of an entirely locally produced Thanksgiving meal isn’t going to be a reality, but I’m trying not to beat myself up about it. Here’s the menu for Thanksgiving dinner at Chez Adolf:

The Star:
20 pound organic, free range, drug-free, sustainably raised turkey from Live Oak Farms. I opted to try this brining thing that everyone recommends. The turkey is bathing in sea salt, rosemary (from our garden), thyme, and broth as I type, and here’s hoping it’s absorbing those spices and juices to create a yummy main dish. Please oh please don’t let me destroy the bird...

The Traditions:
Dressing, made to imitate my parents’ recipe, which they found on the back of a sage can. We still have the can, dated 1967. It’s a family heirloom. (No fear, I used fresh sage.) While not a local dish, it is delicious...toasted white bread, onions, celery, herbs galore...and the best part--giblets. I know you are now completely grossed out, but boy--they are good. You just can’t think about it when you eat them.

Cranberry sauce, Ocean Spray, canned. Sorry, but there are no local cranberries in South Carolina, plus canned cranberry sauce is Tyler’s favorite. Personally, I’m not a cranberry sauce girl...I just get it for everyone else.

Mashed potatoes...again, not local. These spuds hail from Idaho.

Sweet potato casserole. My sister, Becky, is bringing it. I know I could have found local sweet potatoes, but I’m embarrassed to admit--I’ve never cooked them before, except to microwave them to feed to the kids when they were toddlers.

Green bean casserole, courtesy of my sister, Marsha. Not local, but it’s always good. You know what I mean...can of soup, canned beans, water chestnuts, yum.


Waldorf salad. Whew--finally something with local ingredients. The apples come from Nivens Apple Orchard, which is about 10 minutes from our home. The grapes, walnuts, celery, and mayo...from Publix.

Garden salad. I’m hoping to harvest enough lettuce from our new potager in the backyard to serve a homegrown heirloom salad. We’ll see what the status is tomorrow.

Sweet Corn. Local corn from Beechwood Farms. I froze corn at the end of the summer, but I wish I had frozen more. Our supply is dwindling...but my dad always loved corn, so I’m planning to serve it in his memory.

Red cabbage with local apples. This is not a Thompson family tradition but a concession to Peter. He loves red cabbage. As a Swiss citizen,Thanksgiving is an acquired holiday for him...I started making something he really likes as a new family tradition.

Apple pie. Again, local apples, three varieties. Pie crust: Pillsbury. Shame on me. The egg white used on the pie crust for that shiny Martha Stewart look--local eggs from free range hens. The whipped cream is homemade but without local ingredients...I forgot to pick up cream at the farm.

Pecan pie, courtesy of Becky. Mom’s recipe. I looked for local pecans, but the two places I had time to visit didn’t have them. One farmer told me that every other year they have a good harvest--this wasn’t the year. Last year, they had 200 pounds of pecans.

Pilgrim hat cookies. OK, you serious locavores--you’ll probably hang me in effigy now as an hypocrite. Marshmallows dipped in melted chocolate, stuck on top of Keebler fudge striped cookies (striped side down), decorated with white Duncan Hines icing “buckles.” I know, I know...but my kids love them.

Wine. We have a couple varieties in bottles, but I did pick up a cask of the Black Box Merlot. It’s won lots of awards, and honestly--Peter and I sampled it last night. Pretty yummy. At least we have environmentally friendly wine!

So, although I wish we had incorporated more local ingredients and produce, at least we’ve maintained our traditions while still supporting local producers. Our experiment is about baby steps...trying to be a little better to the environment every day. I’m thankful my family is near so that we can celebrate together, and I’m thankful to our local farmers who worked so diligently to produce healthy, beautiful food...I just hope I don’t wreck it tomorrow!

Happy Thanksgiving to you all...may your turkey be tender, your potatoes without lumps, and your family healthy and well. I’ll let you know how everything turns out...please keep your fingers crossed that I don’t burn the bird!

Cheers!