A Bounty of Apples

Autumn was the great poet Pushkin's favorite season, one he celebrated in his lovely poem "Осень" ("Autumn"). To this day, Russians eagerly await autumn's warm days and cool nights, knowing that, along with a hint of sadness at summer's demise, they bring a bounty of mushrooms and apples.

Among autumn's greatest pleasures is the antonovka, a tart, yellow-green apple immortalized by Nobel Prize winner Ivan Bunin in his short story "Antonov Apples." Antonovki are prized for their keeping ability, important in a cold climate like Russia's. But above all Russians wax poetic about the apples' distinctive aroma. In Bunin's story, the smell of antonovki induces nostalgic thoughts of a lyrical past. "I remember a fine, early autumn," the story begins, with "the delicate smell of fallen leaves and the fragrance of Antonov apples, a fragrance of honey and autumn freshness." But as society changes, this fragrance disappears from the country houses of Bunin's childhood, and Antonov apples come to symbolize a lost way of life.

Horticulturalists still debate the true origins of the Antonov apple, partly because so many hybrids have been developed over the years. As early as 1900, the great Russian pomologist I.P. Usikov wrote in Concise Pomology that "The antonovka is to Russian horticulture what rye is to field crops. It is the most widespread type of apple we have, and the most beloved, carted by hundreds of wagonloads into our cities. No apple is more famous in Russia than the Antonov."

Even if the apple's precise origins remain unknown, the western Russian city of Kursk has claimed the antonovka as its symbol. In 2008, a two-meter-high bronze monument to the apple was unveiled in the city center. The date chosen for the ceremony was the Russian Orthodox celebration of The Transfiguration of Jesus (August 6 old style; August 19 new style), a holiday traditionally known by the peasants as "Yablochny Spas"(the "apple" festival of the Savior), a day marking the onset of fall and the new apple harvest.

Russia has long been known for the excellence of its apples. When the German ambassador Adam Olearius traveled through Russia in the seventeenth century, he noted the abundant apple varieties, and how well the fruit grew in the Moscow region. It should come as no surprise, then, that nineteenth-century Americans looked to Russia for apple stock hearty enough to withstand the cold New England winters. In 1835, the Massachusetts Horticultural Society began to import Russian apple varieties via the London Horticultural Society. The first four varieties imported into the U.S. were the Alexander, Tetofsky, Red Astrachan, and Duchess of Oldenburg. These varieties spawned others; horticulturalists believe that the mottled Duchess of Oldenburg is the parent of such contemporary American favorites as Northern Spy and McIntosh.

Perhaps the most legendary apple of Russian origin is the Yellow Transparent, introduced to this country in 1870 by the USDA. Unlike the Duchess of Oldenburg, prized for its winter hardiness, the Yellow Transparent became a favorite in the American South. It is very juicy, with soft, rather than crisp, flesh. Olearius reported that these apples, the likes of which he had never before seen, were "of uncommon beauty, so transparent, that if they were held against the sun, one might see through them and count almost all the kernels... The Russians call it naliv, which signifies poured full; because when these apples are ripe, all the pulp turns to juice. A sweetish tart and very pleasant taste, and an agreeable smell... it will not grow any where else so well as near Moscow."

Even in twenty-first-century Moscow, the early fall air in the markets is redolent with the fragrance of apples, the antonovka taking pride of place among them. Stroll among the produce aisles, and you may just be carried back to a less frenetic past, a time when strings of carts slowly filed into the city, brimming with tart-sweet apples, the drivers eating them, in Bunin's words, with "a juicy crunch one after the other."

Souffléed Baked Apples

Яблоки со сметаной

Even without access to Antonov apples, you can make a very Russian-tasting dessert by topping any sort of tart apple with a mixture of sour cream and eggs. The heat of the oven causes the topping to puff up like a soufflé.

2 pounds tart apples, peeled, cored and sliced

2 cups cold water

2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice

1/2 cup (scant) seedless raspberry jam

1 1/2 cups sour cream

4 eggs, separated

1/4 teaspoon almond extract

1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom

1 tablespoon flour

1/2 cup sugar + 2 tablespoons sugar

In a saucepan combine the water and lemon juice. As each apple is peeled, cored and sliced, drop the slices into the water. Then bring the water to a boil and simmer the apple slices for 3 to 5 minutes, until tender but still holding their shape.

Preheat the oven to 325ºF. Grease a 9 x 13-inch glass baking dish. Mix together the poached apples and the jam, coating each slice. Spread the apples in an even layer in the dish.

In a small bowl combine the sour cream, egg yolks and flavorings. Stir in the flour and the ½ cup sugar.

Beat the egg whites until stiff but not dry and gently fold them into the sour cream mixture. Spread over the apples. Sprinkle with the 2 tablespoons of sugar. Bake the apples for about 30 minutes, until puffed and golden. Let the dessert stand for 10 minutes before serving, so that it can be cut easily into squares.

Serves 4 to 6

Adapted from A Taste of Russia