In settler days, most farmers planted apple trees.

They were focused on apples to press into cider.

There was water to drink, but it was not always safe. Cider could be drunk at any time in those days, before tea or coffee were available, and cows weren’t always at hand.

Cider lasted well and became “hard,” which was fine for the settlers.

Unlike native crab apples, apple trees were not native to the New World; some had been brought from England, France or Germany, to start family orchards.

The most notable of the apple tree growers was John Chapman. He saw the need for cider as farmers began to spread westward; so in the autumn of each year, he would travel to western Pennsylvania, to where cider had been made, and gather piles of the leavings from the apple presses. (That’s called “pomace,” said as “POM-ase.”)

Wherever he traveled, Johnny Chapman would set up small nursery orchards, nurturing seedlings into tiny, growing trees. When these grew large enough, he would plant them near routes taken by pioneers heading westward.

The trees began to bear apples — and some of them were pretty odd fruits, for apple tree seeds yield surprising offspring.

Now and then, a tree would produce something tasty enough for human consumption and that tree would be nurtured for fruit for the table, whether to be eaten out-of-hand, as a sauce or in a pie. Otherwise, most farm family orchards grew cider apples.

Not all non-conformists become famous, but Johnny Appleseed managed to become an American legend. Other beverages (coffee, tea, cocoa, milk among them) supplanted hard cider as a national drink, but the apple trees lived on.

To this day, remnants of old cider orchards may be found in woods, by roadsides and in abandoned fields. Squirrels, deer and bears browse or slurp up the ripe (and overripe) fruit.

In Scotland one year, I found an old monastery orchard, laid out as a history of apple trees. Among the specimens were apples that had been grown in Roman times and beyond. The fruit and its trees are still popular in many countries, including Maine.

More on garlic

Last time, I explained about garlic as I know it.

Then I got a supermarket specimen, grown in California.

This bulb has outer layers of largish cloves, but inside are more, small pieces. They are all just as edible, as usable as what my garden yielded.

Those smaller pieces told me that the garlic is a cousin. Grown more easily in warmer California, it’s known as a softneck type. It is said to store better than the hardneck kinds I’ve cultivated.

Hardneck garlics send up a stalk that may curl around in interesting shapes. In the center of the bulb, that stalk takes the place of the crowd of smaller cloves. It needs to be taken off; use it in cooking or in a salad. Perhaps you’ve seen some of the twisty stems for sale in a farmers’ market?

Garlic one has grown oneself is more satisfying and perhaps more tasty than most of what one can buy in the market. And have you found that a dog that is a picky eater may enjoy a slight shake of garlic powder over his supper?