
So, the other day, I was sitting at my desk and a Facetime call came in from a friend who I won’t identify here, I’ll just say his name is — gosh, what’s a good entirely made-up name? — Dave Turner. We’ll call him Dave Turner.
Normally, I would not answer a random Facetime call from anyone. I won’t even answer a phone call. Gosh, you answer the phone, you might actually have to talk to a person, and I did not become a creepy writer in the woods just so I can talk to *shudder* other humans. You want to speak to me with your voice and my voice, you need to pre-schedule that shit in advance. Otherwise, leave me alone to sit in the dark, whispering to apples.
Anyway, I answered because it’s Dave Turner, which is totally not his real name, and the aforementioned Dave Turner was at an apple orchard and demanded the services of an on-call apple sommelier, or perhaps, an orchard shepherd. And I was glad to be of service, and we went on a Facetime tour of many crates of tasty Hudson Valley apples, but I think what struck me was how many of those I’d never even heard of. And clearly I am no mere apple novitiate — I am no pomological rube. I know a lot of apples! Me and a lot of apples, we’re pals. And this was still a new-to-me slate.
That excited me. It revivified me. My apple journey is far, far from over, it seems, and it truly continues today with another apple that is entirely new to me, courtesy of Scott Farm in Vermont:
The Maiden’s Blush.
Apparently, a popular apple in the 1700s in New Jersey. No pork roll, just Maiden’s Blush apples all the way down. Common in the earliest markets in Philadelphia. Also used as an early American “courting orb,” whereupon a man would gift a woman he fancied with something round and precious — an apple, a doll’s head, a bread boule, a signed World Series baseball. And the Maiden’s Blush was a popular choice, because the apple was quite randy, often muttering horny little epithets at those who gripped it tightly and thus, obviously, it made maidens blush okay listen this part might not be true, who can say, nothing matters anymore.
My review of a Maiden’s Blush apple from Scott Farm (VT), late Sept:
Have you ever made a sandcastle? Have you ever, while the sand is still wet — wet enough for the sand to be packed together — just taken a big ol’ bite?
That’s what this feels like in your mouth. A wet sandcastle! What delight.
The stark white flesh is a dry, very-not-juicy landscape of just-moist apple dust, and it mostly has no crunch when you bite it; though if you really get vigorous with it you can manifest a slight krrnnch as you get in there. The apple-meat turns to slop pretty fast while the skin remains — so you kind of milk the flesh from your mouth while still chewing the USPS priority mail envelope that once enrobed said flesh, and it’s not super fun to do this.
The apple’s saving grace, I suppose, is its flavor: it’s not particularly interesting, but there’s a politely assertive flavor of vanilla and elderflower. A spark of tart. A touch of sweet. It’s not going to kick you in the mouth with its complexity, but it will definitely hold the elevator for you. It’ll let you ahead in line at the grocery store if you only have a few items. It’ll say a quiet gesundheit if you sneeze, even when it has never met you before. It’s a nice flavor!
A nice flavor unfortunately married to the texture of potting soil. Good for applesauce! I’d say maybe less great for pie. And less less great for eating out of hand. But very good to serve as a courting orb to impress the one you love.
Whaddya gonna do.
Oh, one more thing it has going for it — it smells nice. Even before you bite into it, it exudes this flowery, appley aroma that is pleasing. So maybe just buy a bushel of these and let them perfume your area and then throw them away.
The taste gets it up to a 2.5 outta 10.
(Reviews so far this year: Honeycrisp, Sweetie, Crimson Crisp, Knobbed Russet, Cortland)
Maiden’s Blush: Wet sad sandcastle heralds the death of summer, but at least it smells nice, so stick a wick in it and use it as a candle

strugglingwriter says:
I feel like I might like this. I actually like a soft apple. Does that make me a bad person? I think it does
September 30, 2025 — 9:35 AM
Taylore says:
These reviews are great
September 30, 2025 — 10:13 AM