Apples. This time of year everyone loves ‘em and folks have since Adam and Eve. Such taste sensations, such versatility. McIntosh, Delicious, Gala, Empire, Cortland, Jonathan and those tasty new comers, Honey Crisp and Wolf River have devoted fans. So do the great pie apples like Spy, Winesap and of course, everyone’s favorite old gal, Granny Smith. These, and other newcomers like Fuji and the tasty Jonagold, have the market cornered.
There were several generations of apple people in my family; farmers and growers, the tenders of fruit trees. The Michigan Vowles farm outside of New Hudson, was largely dedicated to fruit trees. Original owners, George and Julia Vowles and their descendants (1853-1970) farmed the land, tended the orchard and occupied the house. I consider myself lucky to have early memories of this place now long gone.
Christmas hampers coming our way from the apple farm were highly regarded; a family treasure. A selection of apples would arrive in a tall vented, brown, double-paper bag, like a #50 bag of potatoes. Tasty homemade items like rich brown apple butter and amber apple jelly were tucked inside the suitcase-like basket, right next to the grape preserves and golden honey. Jars of mom’s Aunt Bert’s homemade jams, butters and preserved fruits were highly prized.
Bert’s husband, our Uncle John, was an orchard man most of his life. He kept a few cows and sold some cream. But the orchard kept his time and mind occupied, just as it had his ancestors. When Oakland County voted to construct Kensington Metro Park in the 1950’s, and create man-made lakes, much of the Butterfield-Vowles orchards were flooded. There is an island, on which the American flag flies each day, named Butterfield Island.
In 1895 my great-grandparents, Will and Lois Vowles, bought 120 acres in Deerfield Twp and commenced to build the farm they long sought. In her accounts book for 1899, Lois meticulously recorded the planting of her orchards. On May 4, 5 & 6, 1899, Will and Lois planted 135 assorted fruit trees, where before there had only been one old apple tree. The names and numbers of each are recorded, some kinds still known, others lost to time and taste. In the spring of 1903, they planted these many trees again, and more. In all, twenty acres were given to fruit trees. This was quite an undertaking for a couple, each fifty years old. They did it for their own prosperity. A ready market at the growing food service union at Central Normal College in Mt. Pleasant took all the fresh fruits and vegetables they could deliver.
Will and Lois’ orchard served them well, as it did my grandparents in the next generation. They planted, grew and sold a selection of farm crops to the College in addition to the fruit. Like the apples, many crates of potatoes were stored in the cellar and hauled to “town” when they were needed. Crates of winter squash, rutabaga and other things cellar storable were stashed away in the cool darkness, awaiting sale or need.
At one time there were apple, pear, peach, plum and cherry trees on the farm, as well as four varieties of grapes, two of currants, strawberries and red and black raspberries. At this time of year my grandparent’s farm was a veritable fruit bowl.
I find it curious that, for all the years and generations of apple growing, tending, harvesting and eating, we have no outstanding, super-fabulous, treasured family recipes for anything apple. My grandma made a fabulous fruit butter, apples and Bartlett pears. It was cooked to the consistency of pudding; a rich, dark spread, begging for toast.
Grandma also made the very best apple dumpling I ever ate. And even though I was a very small child I remember it still. She served up the warm, cinnamon and sugar sprinkled, apple filled dumpling in a pool of buttered cream in a Jadeite soup bowl. She kept a stack of them warming in the back of the wood fueled kitchen range. I’ve been chasing that taste and memory for years, and will as long as I am able. I’m of the opinion that one cannot sample too many apple desserts in search of the perfect one.
Since I was a kid, the old orchard was taken out, and much of the ground sold. I believe there are still a couple of fruit trees on what is left of the farm and until a just a few years ago a large and faithful Anjou pear grew beside the woodshed. It kept company with a surviving Duchess apple. Both century old trees gave way for the construction of a garage.
There are many photos of life on the farm but few of the old orchard. This is this one my mom took in the fall of 1939. Queenie the workhorse, and her companion, have hauled a load of crated potatoes from the field to the outside cellar entrance at the cobblestone farmhouse. My grandmother, a scarf wrapped about her head, is handing off crates on the far side of the wagon. Grandpa and my uncle are doing the work of getting them into the cellar. The wooden crates were slid down a ‘crate slide’ on one side of the wide cellar steps. The real work fell to the poor guy who had to carry them back out again.
I know the kind of apple that Eve ate in the garden of eden. it was a crab apple.