An Exaltation of Apples

Tarte Tatin

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As I write this, it’s Sunday, October 20^th, Great Maine Apple Day, when legions of apple lovers converge on Unity, Maine, for a day-long celebration of all things apple, from the tree to the cider mill and stops in between (selecting, pruning, fertilizing, harvesting, storing, making apple sauce, baking a pie). This rousing event is sponsored by the Maine Organic Farmers & Gardeners Association (MOFGA) and includes a tour of MOFGA’s Maine Heritage Orchard where keeper C.J. Walke keeps vigilance over 360 varieties of apples, plus a few pears. Many of these are little known beyond the boundaries of some old and abandoned farm field but they are honored nonetheless as treasures, with possible characteristics that can help maintain the health of the worldwide crop as a whole. You will not find any Granny Smiths or Red Delicious in this collection, but you will find Addison Russets and a host of others, ending with Zachary. And the orchard is constantly receiving additions as new heritage apples are discovered.

Of all the many wonderful apple dishes, the dishes that fill the kitchen with the overwhelming fragrance of apples plus vanilla plus a little cinnamon plus baking butter, there are a few in particular that stand out: my Aunt Doris’s apple-walnut cake, which I repurposed with olive oil:

Aunt Doris’s apple-walnut cake, Bundt-pan version

Also, Craig Claiborne’s recipe for apple crisp in the original New York Times Cookbook, published back in 1961, a true genius recipe; and of course apple cider doughnuts, made with Maine apple cider preferably from Bob Sewall’s orchard in Lincolnville. But far and away the greatest apple recipe, in my humble estimation, is the exaltation of apples called a tarte Tatin.

This French classic, we are told, was invented late in the 19^th century by one of the two Tatin sisters, les demoiselles Tatin, who kept a restaurant, the Hôtel-Terminus Tatin, in the Loire valley town of Lamotte-Beuvron. Yeah, right, I used to say, and Marco Polo brought back pasta from China and the Crusaders brought ice cream from the Middle East. But it turns out the legend is credible: we actually know the names of the sisters. Mlle Caroline (1847-1911) ran the dining room of the establishment, while her older sister Stephanie (1838-1917) was the chef and, presumably, inventor of this seductive dessert. “Invention,” however, is something of stretch for the famous tarte is really nothing but a classically simple French tarte renversée like those found in every farmhouse kitchen, then and now.

The combination of caramelized butter, sugar, and apples, melting together under an equally buttery, sugary, shortcrust pastry lid (pâte brisée or pâte sucrée) is extraordinary, a sum that is much, much greater than its parts, truly an exaltation and the epitome of all the world’s apple pies. Down through the decades, cooks have tinkered with the original, adding rum or armagnac, cinnamon or vanilla, serving it with ice cream, even substituting pears, mangoes, plums or tomatoes for the apples that form the heart of the dish. But as with a Shakespearean tragedy turned into opera or ballet, the tinkering only serves to remind us of the indisputable greatness of the original.

crab apples, the only native American apple, not great for baking but they make the very best apple jelly

A tarte Tatin is not difficult provided you have certain critical ingredients. The major one is apples. And not just any apples. Every French recipe for this classic calls for a very special apple called reine des reinettes, an old-fashioned apple variety that is hard to find in the United States, though perhaps a little easier in Canada. Crisp and crunchy, nicely tart but with a high sugar content, firm enough to maintain its texture when cooked, this is an apple that deserves to be better known. You can find photographs of apples called reines des reinettes online but they vary so much in color and size that I cannot recommend any of them. I believe reinettes are small, green, and russeted, but I’m no expert. (Russeting, rough patches of greenish brown, is perfectly normal for many apple varieties.) Some say reinettes are related to English pippins (e.g., Cox’s orange pippin, the most popular British apple) but John Bunker, Maine’s apple guru, doesn’t think so. When I called Bunk for information—he knows more about apples all over the world than anyone else I know—he offered to graft a reine des reinettes scion onto another apple tree so that one of these years, with luck and attention, I will harvest my own reinettes and make an authentic tarte Tatin.

But for now I’ll make do with Julia Child’s advice. Back in 1971, Julia attempted a true Tatin on camera (it didn’t work very well) using Golden Delicious apples. But she recommended others too: Rome beauties, York imperials, Baldwins, northern spies, and Cortlands. Amazingly, just a half century ago, American cooks all over the country presumably had access to all those different apples. No longer. Golden delicious is the only one still widely available—too widely if you ask me. You have to go to apple country--Maine, Michigan, Upstate New York, maybe Washington state—to find anything resembling an heirloom apple farm.

Whatever the variety used, the fruit must be fully ripe and flavorful, with a balance of sweet and tart. You’ll add sugar but keep in mind that this is not a jam tart but a tart of apples that have been thickly sliced and braised in butter and sugar until they have absorbed buttery caramel flavors but still retain their shape and their distinctive apple-ness. The butter should be the best and densest you can find.