THE LOST APPLE PROJECT

This tree may be a "lost" variety

“If we have apple tree on the farm, why don’t we pick them?” I asked my parents back in the ‘70s. My dad picked a bagful for me, and that was that.

“What kind are they?” I asked, and my mother said they were Red Delicious. I doubted that but didn’t argue.

When we came to live at the farm, I still wondered about the old apple trees and how to identify them. We have eight trees on our property plus one at the neighbor’s that also piqued my interest. Aside from the occasional pie and a little sauce, we don’t pay much attention to the trees. For one thing, it’s just darned hard to access them and harder still to pick them.

A couple of years ago, I read an article about the work of David Benscoter to identify antique apple varieties long considered extinct. The program, called the “Lost Apple Project,” operates through the Whitman County Historical Society of Colfax, WA. It’s really a program of the Palouse, but last year (2019), I contacted David and asked if I could submit apples to the project. He agreed. Late in October, Mike and I picked the apples and met David at the top of the Lewiston Hill one bitterly cold and windy afternoon in early November 2019.

Is this a "Winterstein?"

The results are in. Only three of our trees were identified. (Perhaps the other apples were too degraded, or maybe they were just common crabapples.) However, it IS exciting that the big tree where the road meets the lane was tentatively identified as a “Winterstein.” The tree at the neighbor’s is a Rome. And – the tree at the edge of June’s property is a “yes,” which means they think it’s a lost variety and want to see it again. I will resubmit apples from this tree in the fall.

I had never heard of a “Winterstein” apple. Here’s what I learned from internet research:

·      Developed by Luther Burbank in 1898, evidently a blending of the Gravenstein and an unknown variety.

·      Late-ripening (for your Thanksgiving pie)

·      An heirloom variety some consider unexceptional today.

·      Grows to 30 feet in height and 10-15 feet in width. (Our tree fits this description.)

·      The blossoms are white to pink/red (Also checks with our tree.)

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Our “Winterstein” tree – actually several trees now – is of such height that it’s difficult to pick the apples. The deer bed down under it and eat the falls. It seems that the “Winterstein” has found a happy location there in the crook of the road. It probably enjoys fertilizer from the field. It should probably have more water during the summer, but there’s nothing I can do for that.

It's not good to “pick” apples, or any fruit, by shaking the tree, so this year I bought a fruit-picker’s pole. It’s an awesome tool. I know the “Winterstein” makes a good pie, and now that I have my picker, I might just grab more of them. We’ll be able to access those in the top of the tree. I can hardly wait! KW

A WALK ON THE NORTH SIDE

Late Tuesday afternoon (April 26), I took Bess and Nellie for a walk around the north field. I wanted to see the vegetation, and besides, I get tired of hiking up Plank’s Pitch. Maybe the dogs do, too, because when I called, "Let's go this way,” they seemed only too glad to move into the field.

The picture above was taken from behind the apple trees, looking towards June's place. These trees are recovering from the scorching they received in the fire last summer. They are old trees and we don't pick the apples. Still, it means something that they are there in the lane. The deer and the dogs like the apples.

The tree in bloom is a large apple in the curve of the lane. These apples are beautiful in the fall but inaccessible -- at least for me. Bess and Nellie love to eat the apples off the ground and so do the deer. The other tree is a black hawthorn. We have lots of hawthorn trees. The birds love the berries. The jelly is sweet but not flavorful.

 This tree is a plum, and we have quite a number of them here. We're still experimenting to see what we can do with them. The fruit is good dried as long as you don't over dry.

Now this is a good-looking elderberry bush. Last year the berries on our bushes were small and dry. This year I'll try to make jelly even if the berries are sub-par because we're totally out.

Wildflowers among the rocks on the west edge of the field.

Bess on point in west field (behind house). She's above me here as I return to the house.

 Nellie, also in west field.

I think this tree is a service berry. I like service berry jelly. I tend to forget that the berries are ready in June and overlook the season. KW

DWORSHAK DAM FROM RUSSELL RIDGE

Yesterday I talked to a neighbor who reassured me that exploration of the ridge was not out of line for those who live here. I described where I had explored, and he explained that the property in question was actually on the original homestead of my great-Uncle Ben Dickson, Ina's brother. That farm is now owned by friends, a family with whom we have an established relationship. Feeling more confident, today I gathered my husband and my dog and headed back to "pie cherry heaven." Yes, I picked a few cups of cherries -- enough to make a cobbler for supper -- and Mike discovered the best vista of Dworshak Dam and reservoir to date. Here are the photos.

Note the clouds. A cold front moved through during the night leaving us with a cool day. I wore a sweatshirt all day.

I was just thinking that ordinarily we would feel the excitement of a pending harvest in the air, but not this year. The fields are brown and barren due to the cold, wet spring.

Where we stood today, however, on the edge of a field, the grain is ripening. I don't think any planting was done this spring on this end of Russell Ridge, so this field must have been planted last fall. (Sorry -- I'm not a great identifier of grain. Perhaps I'll get better.)









I hope you enjoy these pictures and that you can see the dam as well as the reservoir.

Now my next goal is to locate Russell Ridge from the dam. KW

COUNTRY APPLES

Mighty Mike says splitting wood makes him feel powerful.

Preserving the fruit trees here in the country is an ongoing interest for our family. We have elderberry bushes, an ancient pear tree left over from Grandma Ina's orchard, plum trees in the gully called "Stove Creek," raspberries we planted (and their relatives growing in the wild), and of course, old apple trees in bad need of renovation or removal. Today it's about apples.

Large apple tree on the Dickson/Senter place

Over at the Senter place where we've been cutting, splitting, stacking and loading wood, I discovered a large apple tree in the front yard. The tree is taller than any apple tree I've ever seen, though it has a little brother by its side that is rather like others in the area – low and broad. I surmise from its position in the yard and its general appearance that at one time it had good care. Perhaps it was purchased and deliberately planted, then sprayed and pruned, until at last it, too, was abandoned, just like those on neighboring land. I have no guess as to the variety. The other day I talked Mike into picking some of the apples for me – scabby as they were. We think the apples were still on the green side, but I made a pie and a batch of sauce. I thought both products were good.

There are six or eight old apple trees on our homestead. My dad didn't take care of our apple trees and didn't pick the apples. I have no idea how the apple trees came to be here. So every autumn I've wondered -- Can I use these country apples? Given that they are wormy and deteriorate as they ripen, can I pick them green and cook with them? When are apples ripe anyway? And what can I do to encourage these old trees?

Last year I asked advice of my sister, Harriet, who was a country wife – a genuine farmer's wife – for more than 50 years. She said her mother-in-law was interested in the country apple trees – those you find on a country road or in the yard of an old homestead or down in a gully. When they were out driving, Harriet would stop at this tree and that so that her mother-in-law could pick a sampling of apples. She would then make sauce with the apples, noting the location of the tree and the quality of the sauce.

Apples on the Senter tree

My mother loved the green transparent apple – an old variety becoming rather rare, as I understand it. The green transparent is an early variety – ripening in June or July – and very tart, strictly a cooking apple. Mother made her applesauce in a 6-quart aluminum pot, peeling and coring each and every apple. She insisted she could tell if the apples were cooked with their peels on. To her pot of sliced apples Mother added water "just until I see it coming up." She then simmered the apples, adding sugar – a lot of sugar -- near the end of cooking time. No cinnamon. She also made pies for the freezer to which she did add cinnamon. No allspice, though. She didn't like allspice.

Well, I was never really sold on that applesauce made with transparent apples -- had too much sugar, I thought . The sweet/tart flavor made my jaw ache. But – the appeal for me today is that the transparent is evidently becoming rare. And that's a quest – and you know how I love a good retro-quest. KW

BERRY GOOD!

Blackberry Pie -- photo courtesy of Hallie Johnson

Hallie's husband Nick enjoys berries. He likes the experience of exploring for berries, picking them, and then making sweet-tart jams, jellies, and desserts. My dad would so have enjoyed knowing Nick.

"Why don't you take advantage of the abundance of blackberries in your neighborhood?" I asked Hallie. Wild blackberries are a big problem in Seattle, but to my way of thinking, the berries just as well be picked and enjoyed when they're ripe. At first they didn't seem interested, so a couple of weeks later I was surprised when Hallie said they were going out to pick blackberries and would I share my berry pie recipe. Here's what I told her –

KATHY'S BERRY PIE

One pre-baked pie shell (I used a chocolate crumb shell)

First, blend 8 oz softened cream cheese, 4 oz Cool Whip (or more), ½ cup powdered sugar, and 1 tsp vanilla. Spread in pie shell and place in refrigerator.

Mash about 4 cups berries (not too much mashing) and add ½ to 1 cup water. Stir together one cup sugar and 3 tablespoons of cornstarch. Blend the berries and water into the sugar and cornstarch mixture. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly. Cook one minute after mixture comes to a boil. Allow to cool a little. (If I'm in a hurry, I will place the pan in cold water for a few minutes.)

Finish by pouring the berry mixture over the cream cheese.

You might recognize this recipe as a variation on Betty Crocker's strawberry glace pie. I prefer to make more of the cream cheese layer. Options for the berry layer abound: you can use a smaller amount of berries, or you can layer fresh berries on your cream cheese layer and make the topping with just one cup of the berries. If you're a berry purist, you could probably just go with fresh berries and eliminate the sauce.

Since Hallie had a business appointment in the Valley on Monday, she flew in on Saturday (8-21). I picked her up at the airport and we drove out to the farm. Mike was participating in a geo-caching camp-out in the Blues, so it was just the two of us – and Nellie, of course.

Hallie has undertaken a self-study to learn about plants, and she brought with her a copy of Berry Grower's Companion by Barbara L. Bowling. First we read about raspberries and strawberries and then we cut back the old canes in my raspberry patch. I'll need to tip the new canes about the first of November.

Then we went down the lane to the curve where Dobson Road comes into the lane, property that actually lies on June's old place -- if that means anything to you. We had seen the raspberry canes there and when we started pruning, we discovered quite a stand. Hallie pruned and pulled out dead underbrush for an hour. I agreed to rake away the debris and perhaps throw some fertilizer on the plants. We're not exactly sure if these are black raspberries or black caps or what. They are definitely wild berries and the county road crew is ruthless in poisoning them if they encroach upon the road.

Next, we walked down the draw that borders the northern side of the property. Nick and Hallie had already identified several berry stands when they were here two weeks ago. Again, Hallie pruned away dead canes and debris, hoping to encourage the plants to bear more profusely in the future. We'll just have to see what happens.

Other berries of interest:

Elderberries abound in our area. Nick and Hallie hope to participate in the jelly making this year. I have "pure cane sugar from Hawaii" available in abundance for the occasion.

Gooseberries and currants. I have planted these without much success, though Grandma Ina had a gooseberry bush that was prolific until it disappeared – probably a casualty of crop-dusting. I'll try again next year – perhaps a different location.

Serviceberry. I think we have serviceberry at the farm; I just have yet to identify it. KW

MONTMORENCY PIE CHERRY TREE

"Hi Mom-o!" said the message from Hallie. "I was thinking about how you and Dad are approaching the big Three - Five and I thought it would be fun to get you a fruit tree of your choosing as an anniversary gift. I didn't want to just go and choose something because you might already have an idea for what you want and you might also like to do some research. I'm not sure if I'm too late for this idea in terms of timing for when it's right to plant a tree, so you can let me know. What do you think?"

"Hallie gets things done," I thought to myself. "And this year she'll establish the orchard -- something I haven't managed to do."

Years have come and gone since 1998 when we decided to remodel the old farmhouse. In my childhood – and even when I was 40 – an old pear tree and two pie cherry trees behind the house constituted the orchard. The cherry trees sat very near the sloping bank. Our general contractor in charge of remodeling said that unless the bank was pushed farther back, the foundation of the house would be threatened by standing water. It had to be corrected, he said, and the cherry trees would have to go.

The cherry trees were the center of many fine memories. Sometime mid- to late-July, when my dad said the cherries were ripe, we would head to the farm to pick them. He never mowed the orchard, so he would take a scythe and cut down the tall grass around the trees. He disapproved of anyone walking in tall grass because of rattlesnakes, so he would make sure the area was prepared before we approached the trees. When I was little, he would loop a belt through the bail of a shortening pail and tie it around my waist, but it would be years before I would become a proficient picker. I remember quietly picking with my mother. I remember my dad picking from time to time. I remember the year brother Chuck was there and helped me pick – seems not so long ago. And, of course, as you pick you visit about this and that. You anticipate the pies and it feels good to put food by.

So, it about broke my heart to have to part with the old cherry trees. They say a pie cherry tree lasts 20 years – and how old were those trees? Perhaps 50 – even 60 years – and showing their age. So, since I could do nothing about their loss, I resolved to replace them. It was probably time anyway.

Yes, I had already researched and knew what I wanted – a Montmorency pie cherry tree. It's an old species, so perhaps the old trees were Montmorency. And I felt certain that the reported hardiness of the Montmorency would be appropriate for the farm. Knowing what I wanted was just half the battle. Every year I was in a quandary. Trees ordered through the mail are very young and can't be delivered to a Washington address. (We get most of our mail at the Washington address.) More developed trees are hard to transport – if you can find them.

Yesterday I let my fingers do the walking and learned the local nursery had just two Montmorency trees left and on sale through the end of the month. Hallie said the local purchase worked for her, so this morning found Mike and me at the nursery seeking out our cherry tree. "Why not a sweet cherry tree?" asked Mike. "Not the plan," I explained, sticking to my guns. "Look at this! Three varieties on one tree," he said. "Maybe next year," I said.

"This is a fine looking Montmorency," said the helper, and I agreed. Mike went to get the pick-up while I went to pay.

"I have to agree with you about the pie cherry tree," said the nursery helper. "A cherry pie made with sweet cherries just isn't as good."

[The picture shows our Montmorency pie cherry tree together with a forsythia bush – both to be planted on the farm. The old can Mike found in the barn and brought to town to throw it away. "Not on your life," I said. "This is a yard ornament."] KW

IT'S ALL IN THE SUGAR!

Have you ever had a recipe you used over and over with unfailing results? And suddenly one day you go to make that recipe – whatever it is – and it just won't work for you? Perhaps it's over-confidence, perhaps it's subtle changes in ingredients. Whatever – it's baffling. This year's elderberry jelly has been like that for me.

Murray left a comment on the last elderberry post: "I read that 100% cane sugar is important - no Idaho beet sugar. Also boiling time." I'm not so old but what I can still find someone old enough to have been my mother, so I asked my oldest sister, who was a country housewife for 50+ years, if she could confirm that cane sugar should be used in jelly making. She said she believed she had known that at one time because she has always insisted on C&H brand sugar. Okay, I admit it. I have been buying store brand sugar and I guess it caught up to me. Mike and I have always believed that the grocery store is not the place to scrimp, but I have been experimenting a bit with store brands.

"So you don't have any elderberry jelly?" Clinton asked as he was getting ready to leave. "Elisha likes it." So I gave him a jar of last year's batch and explained that I have not given up on this year's product. Then I decided that this would be the day I would make another batch. I came prepared with a bag of cane sugar and a sack-ful of Gala apples. First I cooked the apples (2.5 pounds of apples cooked with 2.5 cups of water) and strained the juice. Apple juice mellows the flavor of the elderberry and provides natural pectin. I decided to go with Sure-Jell brand pectin, and I increased the juice to 3.75 cups as recommended by one online expert. (Remember, both Sure-Jell and MCP have dropped elderberry from their recipe lists in the last couple of years.) I used 2.5 cups of pre-processed elderberry juice to 1.25 cups of my processed apple juice.

According to recommended procedure, I stirred the powdered pectin into the juice (including ¼ cup lemon juice) and stirred this mixture constantly over high heat (except for when I took this picture of a rolling boil). I had pre-measured the cane sugar and poured it all at once into the hot liquid. The difference between the cane sugar and the previous failed mixtures was visible at once. The cane sugar dissolved immediately and the syrup appeared silky smooth as opposed to grainy and globular. I kept stirring over high heat until the rolling boil was reached. Whereas previously I had questioned when the mixture came to a rolling boil, there was no question about that rolling boil with the cane sugar. It actually foamed up in the pot. I boiled for one minute per Sure-Jell instructions.

The jars and lids were ready and I filled them immediately with the hot liquid. The jars have now sealed and are sitting on the counter for 24 hours.

Well, I figure if cane sugar is best for my jelly it's probably best for anything I make. From now on, this "Mrs. Retro Housewife" will insist on brand name cane sugar for the visibly superior final product.

Oh – any suggestions for using up three batches of gooey jelly? I already tried re-cooking – it didn't improve the product. KW

ELDERBERRIES 2009

The harvesters came in about noon on Sunday. By dusk the same day they had finished this 100 acres – a far cry from the old days, but that's another story.

The ripening crops have prevented our scouting around the fields, and Mike was anxious to take the tour. So, while the harvesters were still working he hopped on a 4-wheeler and rode the perimeter of the farm.

"There are a couple of good elderberry trees on the canyon's edge, and the berries are ripe," he announced.

"No! Not now! I can't deal with them now. They can't be ripe," I said emphatically. After all, my daughter's getting married this week. I have other things to do.

"Well, they sure look ripe to me," Mike said. "Some of them look dry."

I have never been fond of the process of making elderberry jelly, but I will say, of all the things I do, the end product has been lauded and appreciated. From the first time Mike tasted my dad's elderberry jelly, he was sold on it and the pressure was on to make more. And apparently love at first taste also happened for our soon-to-be-son-in-law, Nick. "Next year, I'll help you," he said quietly last year. Well, his heart was in the right place, and I just couldn't say what I was thinking: "Next year you'll get married and either the wedding or the fact that you've spent your vacation days on a honeymoon trip will prevent your helping me." Insightful on my part, if I do say so myself.
Naturally, a good pseudo-retro farmwife steps up to the task at hand, so this morning I sat behind Mike on the 4-wheeler, clutching the bale of a 5-gallon container as we rode out to the elderberry trees – two of them on the edge of Little Canyon.It didn't take us long to figure out that we would need some sort of tool to pull down the upper branches laden with clusters of berries so that we could pick the best fruit. Mike left Nellie and me there at the trees while he rode back to the house to devise the tool. He was gone quite a while and I teased him about leaving me there to finish the picking by myself. But he did make a handy tool out of an old dowel and a bicycle hook. All in all, we picked about seven gallons of elderberries.



Back at the house, the day's work was just beginning – stemming and cooking the berries. First, I cleared the clutter off the kitchen counter. Then I began the process of stemming the berries. I worked the first hour alone, and then Mike joined me and we worked together for another hour. I'm tellin' ya – it's labor-intensive.


While we were working, a snake -- a non-venomous racer -- joined us.

In the end I cooked three soup-pots-full of elderberries which I subsequently strained through flour sacking. For years, people used cheesecloth for this process but it's arguable that today's cheesecloth is up to the task. In the end I figured I have enough juice for seven (7) batches of jelly.

There were things that didn't get done today, including some baking for the Seattle trip. And I still have a little handwork on my mother-of-the-bride dress to do this evening. But accomplishment is always a good feeling and sometimes choices have to be made. We can always buy cookies. KW