What a vigorous grower, for
instance, is the Ribston pippin, an English apple. Wide branching like
the oak, and its large ridgy fruit, in late fall or early winter,
is one of my favorites. Or the thick and more pendent top of the
belleflower, with its equally rich, sprightly uncloying fruit.
Sweet apples are perhaps the most nutritious, and when baked are a
feast in themselves. With a tree of the Jersey sweet or of Tolman's
sweeting in bearing, no man's table need be devoid of luxuries and one
of the most wholesome of all deserts. Or the red astrachan, an August
apple, what a gap may be filled in the culinary department of a
household at this season, by a single tree of this fruit! And what a
feast is its shining crimson coat to the eye before its snow-white
flesh has reached the tongue. But the apple of apples for the
household is the spitzenberg. In this casket Pomona has put her
highest flavors. It can stand the ordeal of cooking and still remain a
spitz. I recently saw a barrel of these apples from the orchard of a
fruit-grower in the northern part of New York, who has devoted special
attention to this variety.
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