Every time I opened the refrigerator drawer, the brown paper sack whispered, “The Northern Spy apples inside are ready to make a pie.” “I know, I know. Soon.”Finally I retrieved the bag and spent half an hour scraping the thin skin off the apples, coring, slicing and mixing sugar and spices before popping it in the oven.I turned on the timer and told Hubby, “When it dings, please, turn off the oven. I have to go into town.”When I returned, the most delicious smell greeted me: cinnamon, apple, nutmeg. “Man! I’m glad I like to bake,” I exclaimed. The cooled pie beckoned. I sliced a piece and took a bite.“This is fantastic. Very few would appreciate this exquisite flavor. Have a piece,” I cut a wedge and served Hubby. Hubby did not grow up in the Northeast, so his apple pie preferences differ from mine. Still I shared and educated him on the history of this heirloom apple. Northern Spy apples originated in 1840 when Herman Chapin transplanted an apple tree from Connecticut. The tree died, the roots lived. Roswell Humphrey replanted those roots. A sapling sprung up and eventually produced the apple now called Northern Spy. I wondered if the name referred to a spy from the Civil War. I learned instead it received its name in 1852 from the American Pomological Society when they recognized it as a new variety of apples. Now there is something I did not know before: the development of new apples has been going on for centuries. Then after the Honeycrisp apple hit the market I read about the development of new apples. From that article I assumed apple variations came from modern market research and development. I should know better. Apples have been around a long time. Some attribute eating an apple to Adam and Eve’s temptation, fall and dismissal from the Garden of Eden. Considering the flavor of Northern Spy apples in pies, I understand the temptation.I wondered how “spy” became part of the name. Some think it links to James Fenimore Cooper’s book “The Spy.” Others conjecture that the Northern Spy apple tends to bloom early thus “spying” the beginning of the growing season. Others connect it to the Underground Railroad and the spying related to that. Today the Northern Spy apple has its following. It is mentioned in some poetry. Stephen King mentions the breed in “Pet Sematary.”This heirloom apple primarily grows and sells in the Northeast where its tart flavor and firmness ensure it retains its shape and flavor. It took me years to realize other apple pies disappointed me because they lacked that unique flavor. I use the same recipe my mom did: the one found on the back of the Kraft Minute Tapioca box. It really is superior to mixing flour or cornstarch with the sugar and spice. The flavor also explains my huge disappointment every time I buy fresh fall cider. Too sweet, too dull, no zing. Not like cider made with Northern Spy apples, especially after they pasteurize away the zing. After many years of living in South Arkansas without Northern Spies, my New York cousin visited and brought me a half bushel of apples. I made a pie and realized what I had been missing. Last fall my Michigan son bought me Northern Spy apples at the farmer’s market. If I indulged and bought them online, I would spend over $50 for a half a bushel. I won’t do that. Instead I will dream of Northern Spy pies and relish every bite when I infrequently have enough apples for one or two pies.
Northern Spy Apple Pie
by
Tags: