Best Apple Peeler Ever

I believe the embossed label reads Sinclai(r?) Scott Co Baltimore Patent, but it’s hard to say. The “r” from Sinclair is definitely missing, and not because it’s been removed or worn off… .

I grew up with this small machine in the old farmhouse in New Hampshire, and I’m sure it peeled hundreds of bushels of apples over the years. When my father brought it to me to use in California, I was honored, and more delighted than you might understand. After all, you might say, there are apple peelers you can buy brand new, that core and spiral-slice  apples as they peel them. Why not go for the entire deal?

That could be okay if you want to make apple mush pies. I don’t. I want to slice my own, controlling the thickness, which is vital to a good pie. None of these new-fangled ‘time-savers’ that go too far and ruin the very product they’re supposed to make more accessible, and easier to process! Also, with the care you need in cleaning when the apples are organic, you want to do your own cutting to be sure no unwanted elements get into the food.

This machine is a marvel of logical easy function, every part moving easily to the simple cranking of the wooden handle. The cutter is on a spring loaded arm, so it accomodates itself to any size of apple, and my organically raised bumpy ones get excellent treatment despite their irregularities.

A good apple pie, made with Baldwins, or slightly green Courtlands, Empires or Pettingills, or perhaps a bowl of Gordons, should have not only fragrance and spiciness, tartness balanced with sweetness and ample juice, but the slices of apple should be discernable, tender,  with a slight resistance that reminds you of the origin of this best of treats. Add a generous splash of fresh lemon juice to a large bowl of sliced apples, half a cup of brown sugar mixed with some cornstarch and a bit of flour, a good lashing of ground cinnamon, a hearty grate of nutmeg and a double pinch only of cloves–no more because cloves can ruin things. They simply come on too strong and they don’t let anyone else in the pie have a say. Like the sugar– best in moderation.

I love Pettingills. Mine came into season this September through early October just in time for the Earth Sciences party that we host each year. Good rounded apples, deeply dished at stem and blossom end, yellow-skinned with a strong blush. Clear juice, a crisp noisy break to the flesh, and a strong acid sweet with apple fragrance close to a pear scent. I added a few of my Granny Smiths (which I have been authoritatively informed I cannot possibly grow in Southern California) because that poor tree was so overburdened with fruit even though I have repeatedly tried this summer to thin the set.  You will see them on the counter in their green suits waiting for their turn.

We expected about eighty guests, maybe closer to ninety, and all definitely requiring pies. I made five Concord grape pies, two boysenberry/blackberry pies, and  four apple pies. This year I grabbed the camera as I was purring at my peeler, deciding that I would finally give this delightful mechanism its due.

As you see, it takes two passes to completely peel the apple.

I think I should also pause to praise my Pettingill apple tree, which was planted in our little orchard on my father’s recommendation twenty two years ago. Not a recommendation to be taken lightly, coming from a man raised on an apple farm in the Northeast.  This year it has gifted us with several hundred fruit. I don’t spray, so you will see in the photos that I have some insect damage. But despite the flaws, any effect is mainly cosmetic and the fruit are sound.

Aside from the pies, we cooked about a dozen slabs of barbecued ribs, six great flanks of salmon with two types of sauce, brown bread rolls, white honey rolls (about a hundred or so rolls,) a twelve inch four layered cake with passionfruit curd filling and cream cheese icing, and perhaps eight pounds of kidney beans, vegetarian, but two flavors. The guest brought an imaginative range of contributions, full of new spices and textures.

Now that the massive cooking effort is over, the guests gone, the trash cleared, the bins of compost and recyclables picked over and the cans and bottles washed, I look at my photos and feel a bit apologetic about their quality. I was in a bit of a rush and I really ought to have double-checked my focus. But I hope that the images are clear enough to serve.

Here is the machine proving it can accomodate even quite an undersized apple– in fact this one didn’t need a second pass to peel it enough for the pie.