Before the assassination of JFK, the moon landing, or the fall of Saigon, there was growing in a small research plot at the University of Minnesota (U of M) the first generation of an apple known then as “Minnesota 1711.” Heralded by The Better World Report in 2006 as one of “25 Innovations that Changed the World,” this apple, the now-named Honeycrisp, has wowed taste buds and provided a go-to variety for many apple growers since the early 1990s.
U of M researchers Jim Luby and David Bedford began experimenting with this apple, a cross between a Macoun and a Honeygold, in 1960. For about 100 years, U of M agricultural researchers have been cultivating apple varieties that could survive, nay thrive, in the unforgiving winters of the upper Midwest. In 1991, this beauty, wrapped in a glossy blend of pinkish-red and yellowy skin, was released for commercial production. It soon unseated the reigning Minnesota champ, the Haralson, another U of M apple from in 1922.
Chief among its gustatory virtues is the audible, palpable snap. These things have a hair trigger. Imagine a piece of balsawood flexed to the breaking point and held there – the sublime threshold between potential and kinetic energy. This is the state in which the Honeycrisp exists – almost vibrating.
Combine the exhilarating experience of simply biting into one of these apples with the perfectly balanced, honey-tart flavor of its juice and one has an apple that children will, if given a chance, choose over candy. And to top it off, they will maintain flavor and texture for over 6 months in a refrigerator (quite unlike those mealy Macintosh one typically finds sullying the produce section). I must confess that in the early years of this millennium after having just learned of their existence, when the Honeycrisp would seem to make only a cameo on store shelves, I would pay upwards of $3.50 per pound.
It was, in fact, people like me, who were willing to shell out money for these apples, who helped turn around many a struggling apple business in Minnesota. In the 1980s and ‘90s, many upper Midwest growers were getting squeezed out by Washington and overseas growers. But 1991 would see the arrival of the Honeycrisp, an apple as indomitable as that fabled Nordic-Minnesotan spirit. Many of those struggling to hang on turned to the Honeycrisp, and most of them have survived.
If you have ever had the pleasure of tasting a Honeycrisp, you will realize that the thirty years Luby and Bedford spent developing this apple was time well spent. The Honeycrisp is the standard. I’ve heard rumors, though, of a challenger called the Pixie Crunch. It is claimed that its snap outdoes the Honeycrisp. If that’s so, it must be more of a detonation.
Here’s to the American apple.
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