The Heirloom Orchardist

Gathering and Packing Fruit (ca. 1836)

It's too easy for us heirloom fruit enthusiasts to speak with distain about contemporary fruit varieties.  "They're bred only to survive the rigours of travel," we'll frequently say.  "There's no respect for flavor."

Well truthfully, there is something to be said for having your fruit survive the rigours of travel.  This was a major concern to the Heirloom Orchardist.  A responsible orchardist didn't want his order of apples to arrive at its destination as a mass of fetid applesauce.  Which, by the way, happened too often.

So, when I come upon an old farmer who really took pride in his packing, I have great repect.  It gives me a new perspective on what it was like to grow and sell fruit during the days of the Heirloom Orchardist. The following comes from The Farmers' Cabinet, and American Herd-book, Volume 11, Nov 16, 1846:

"About the autumn of the year 1836 or '37, I had some thirty or forty barrels of apples to pick. In the orchard with some other fruit trees were some Newtown pippin trees...It was a "bearing year," as farmers call it, and there was a great crop of apples; and I had very few wormy ones."

"We picked the apples by hand, and did not pour them from one basket to another without putting soft hay or oat straw between them. While pouring them we put straw on the floor of the room in which they were stored; there was also straw put on the bottom of each basket, and on the bottom of the cart we carried them in; all this was done to keep them from bruising."

"After they were all housed, we set to work to sort them, rejecting all which had any defects, and if damp, wiping off the moisture. We next took each apple and rolled it in coarse clean paper. The paper had this effect—it keeps the apples from rubbing each other, and keeps them at a certain degree of moisture, not allowing them to evaporate or receive damp. In the bottom, and around the sides of the barrels, a small quantity of straw was placed, and the apples laid in, one at a time, and as close to each other as they possibly could be, without jamming them. When the barrel was filled, a little more straw was put on the top, and the head of the barrel put in, with an inside lining hoop, to keep the head from being knocked in, by accident. These apples were put up to order, and were to go to Sheffield, in England."

"After taking all these precautions, I wrote a direction to this effect:  'These barrels of apples are not to be rolled or tumbled about; if carted, or sent any way by land, something is to be put on the floor of the cart or wagon, so as to keep them from being bruised, rattled, or jolted.'"

"The apples when packed in this way, were tight in the barrels, and could not be made to rattle with common usage.  M. C. W., who ordered them, informed me that they arrived at the destined place, and were all sound to an apple, and much admired by the consignee for their preservation and manner of putting up."

"People may talk as much as they have a mind to about the heat and damp of ships, and so on, being the cause of the apples rotting; but who could expect that an apple, or any other fruit or vegetable could be kept from it, if jammed or bruised constantly."

Unfortunately, this orchardist's account in The Farmer's Cabinet doesn't mention how large his orchard was.  I'm guessing some of his colleagues may have said "sure friend, you can go to all that trouble with only 30 to 40 barrels of fruit....but last year I packed 200 barrels.  I can't spend that much time packing."

And this orchardist would have politely replied: "you may want to hire a few more good men, or reduce the size of your orchard."

Just prior to the turn of the century, the use of barrels for transporting fruit started to wain.  Promoted by the US Dept. of Agriculture, orchardists began using a new-fangled method of packing apples in boxes.  This improved the packing process, and the quality of the fruit upon reaching its destination.  It seems that apple growers started to take more pride in their product.  The development of colorful fruit labels showed-up on the crates.  Today, these labels are highly sought-after for their decorative quality.

(Apple picking images courtesy of the National Apple Museum)

The Lying Stinking Cheating Orchardist

Oh No! Say it ain't so!  The Heirloom Orchardist was sometimes a lying cheating bum?!

Yup, 'fraid so...That humble orchardist, the one we think of going out to his orchard day after day to grind an honest living from his land, was on occasion a stinkin' cheat.  Actually, based on what we see in the farm journals published throughout the 19th century (right on into the 20th century) it happened more frequently than "on occasion."  It was a major problem.

This cheating had to do with packing the fruit.  Here's a piece from the Farm Journal, published in December of 1903:

"All over the country about these days the farmers are packing apples for the market. It takes no small amount of grace in the heart to do that work faithfully and well. But it pays, and pays big, to be honest about packing apples. A row of splendid apples at the bottom of the barrel and then a bushel or two of small, gnarly ones, is just the best way in the world to make men have doubts about the future welfare of the human race. As the world grows better it packs its apples all the way through the barrel as nearly alike as possible."

It seems that our cheating orchardist became so notorious, that buyers learned to look out for him.  An account in the June 10 1908 Market Growers Journal provides an apple buyer's experience:

"I was once buying Apples for home use. The dealer had a number of barrels. "These," said he, pointing to a barrel of Baldwins, "are $2.50 a barrel." "These," pointing to another barrel, "are $3.50 a barrel." Both looked alike on top. But on the head of the ones priced $3.50 was a stencil, "Grown, packed and shipped by: (Orchardist name here), Lockport, N. Y." On the head of the other barrel was a lead pencil scrawl, "Baldwins," and in the middle of the barrel was a motley collection of cullings perfectly worthless. I bought the other barrel, and the Apples all through it were just like those on top, and the dealer said: "That man's Apples always top the market." And it was proper that they should, for they were honestly packed and the grower was proud of his product, for not a scabby Apple was in the barrel. The other packer did not want any one to know who packed or grew the miserable cheat, and his dishonest packing knocked off $1.00 a barrel and should have knocked off more."

Apparently, some clever growers took advantage of the pervasive skepticism.  They packed their fruit well, established a reputation for honesty, and charged a premium for it.  Now, that's the way to do it. That's my kind of entrepreneurial orchardist!

Dr. Johnson and Apple Dumplings

“If possible, have a good orchard,” wrote Dr. Samuel Johnson to his friend (and eventual biographer) James Bowell “I know a clergyman of small income who brought up a family very reputably, which he chiefly fed on apple dumplings!”

The Heirloom Orchardist would have found humor in that statement.  At least I hope so.  I have to believe that Dr. Johnson meant it to be heard with a chuckle.  As they are today, apples were grown for several reasons in eighteenth century England.  They were eaten out of hand, they were fed to livestock, they were brought to market.  And of course, they made into all sorts of apple treats...including dumplings.

But how did The Heirloom Orchardist make an apple dumpling?  A February 4, 1888 issue of Good Houskeeping Magazine gets us started with this:

"Undoubtedly, the dumplings of our ancestors were composed largely of suet and though suited to the gross customs of those times would not be in favor to-day. Yet instead of throwing aside the dish on this account, we may make them more in accord with modern ideas."

Suet? Really?  "Gross customs," indeed.  Let's get to those "modern ideas" of 1888.  Good Housekeeping continues:

"Our dumplings may be steamed, boiled or baked. Formerly each one was tied in a well-floured cloth and boiled, but steamers make the preparation easier for us. The dumplings may be put side by side on a plate and that be set in the steamer, or they may be put separately in cups. If they are to be baked, it is desirable to put them quite close together in a pan, and put a bit of butter on top of each one and sprinkle a little sugar over all. This makes a crisp brown crust."

A bit of butter, a sprinkle of sugar, and a crisp brown crust...now we're talkin'.  Let's end with Lydia Maria Gurney's recipe, as provided in her 1913 book entitled "Things Mother Used to Make":

Baked Apple Dumplings

"Take rich pie crust, roll thin as for pie and cut into rounds as large as a tea plate. Pare and slice fine, one small apple for each dumpling. Lay the apple on the crust, sprinkle on a tiny bit of sugar and nutmeg, turn edges of crust over the apple and press together. Bake in a hot oven for twenty minutes. Serve hot with cold sauce."