“Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth.” ― Thoreau
Although we’ll make any excuse to hop in the 1933 Ford pickup, we’re loading it up with our last autumn bounty of baldwin apples.
What the Concord is among grapes, what the Bartlett has been among pears, the Baldwin is among apples. The Baldwin apple was once the most praised fruit in New England, but after a harsh winter in 1934, Baldwin apple trees sadly perished.
This of course would not discourage us from finding them for our brandy.
Luckily, our friends at Applehurst Farm Vegetables have one of the oldest surviving Baldwin orchards in the area. We arrived at the farm, eager with empty baskets. They lead us down a beautiful pasture which lead to what we considered to be the Baldwin apple jackpot. We set giant blue tarps down on the grass to minimize bruising, and to keep the fresh apples separate from spoiled ones that have already fallen. The old trees were heavy with fruit so a few good shakes sent apples raining down on the tarps.
After a few hours, and of course some heavy taste testing, we managed to harvest nine bushels. These coveted Baldwin apples will be making their way to the cider house to be pressed, and then turned into the next Tamworth Distilling apple spirit.