McIntosh Apples

Bright, tangy and intensely aromatic — the flavour most Americans and Canadians think of when they think “apple”. Sweet-tart, with the tart arriving first, and a perfume you can smell across a kitchen.

It is a flavour people are loyal to. If you grew up in the Northeast, this is almost certainly the apple of your childhood.

Crisp when freshly picked, and then tender rather than hard. McIntosh has a thin skin and a soft, snow-white flesh that gives easily.

If you want a loud crunch, Honeycrisp or EverCrisp are your apples. McIntosh trades crunch for aroma and juice, and plenty of people make that trade happily.

It simply has a tender flesh and a thin skin. That is the variety, not a fault, and it is inseparable from what makes it good — the same softness is why it breaks down into sauce so beautifully.

Buy it fresh and keep it cold and you will get it at its best.

Both, with the tartness leading. It is a bright, refreshing apple rather than a sugary one.

It mellows as the season goes on, so a November Mac tastes rounder and sweeter than a September one.

Because they are one of the most aromatic apples grown. Put a bag of Macs on the counter and the whole room knows about it.

That perfume is a big part of the appeal, and it is why McIntosh makes such fragrant sauce and cider.

Deep red over a green ground, often with a dusty natural bloom on the skin, and the flesh inside is bright white.

The contrast between that dark red skin and the snow-white flesh is one of the prettiest things in a fruit bowl.

Sun exposure and the strain. Fruit from the shaded inside of a tree colours less, and some McIntosh strains colour up much darker than others.

A greener Mac can be perfectly ripe. Go by feel and smell rather than by colour.

More than most, yes — that thin skin and tender flesh come at a price. Handle them gently and do not pile them deep.

It is also why we pack them carefully. A bruised Mac is still perfectly good to cook with.

Fairly quickly, yes. A squeeze of lemon juice over cut slices keeps them bright.

If you want an apple that holds its colour on a platter, Cortland is McIntosh’s own child and famously slow to brown.

Firm, with taut unwrinkled skin and a strong smell. The natural dusty bloom is a good sign, not a bad one.

Press gently with a thumb — it should give only slightly. Anything that feels soft all over has been sitting too long.

September and October, straight off the tree. That is when the aroma is loudest and the flesh is at its crispest.

It keeps well into winter in the refrigerator, but it is at heart an autumn apple and it tastes like one.

Very — thin-skinned, easy to bite, juicy and not too sharp once it has mellowed a little.

It is a soft apple, so it is kind to small teeth and to anyone who finds a hard apple hard work.

Yes. McIntosh skin is thin and tender, and that dark red skin is where the pink in the applesauce comes from.

Rinse under cold water and rub with your hand. That is all it needs.

Natural bloom — a waxy coating the apple produces itself to hold moisture in. It is completely harmless and a sign the fruit has not been over-handled or polished.

It rinses off under the tap if you would rather not see it.

Because they mellow. Picked in September a Mac is sharp and bracing; by late autumn the tartness has settled back and it reads much rounder and sweeter.

Neither is better — they are different pleasures. If you like a sharp apple, buy early.

One of the best. It leads with tartness, and next to a Fuji or a Gala it tastes positively bracing.

Buy it early in the season for the sharpest version.

Firm with a slight give, taut skin, and heavy for its size. It should smell strongly of apple before you even cut it.

Wrinkled skin or a soft spot means it has been sitting. Perfectly good for sauce, past its best for eating.

Because it collapses. That tender flesh breaks down into a smooth, fragrant sauce faster than almost any other apple, with very little help.

The aroma carries through the cooking too, which is why homemade Mac sauce smells so much better than anything from a jar.

Leave the skins on. Quarter and core the apples, cook them down with a splash of water until soft, then push the lot through a food mill or sieve. The skins stay behind and the colour comes through.

Peel them first and you get an ordinary pale sauce. The pink lives entirely in that dark red skin.

Taste it first — often it needs none at all, or very little. McIntosh is tart, so it depends how sharp your fruit is and how sweet you like it.

A strip of lemon peel and a small cinnamon stick while it cooks do more for it than sugar does.

Roughly three pounds — about nine or ten medium McIntosh — makes a good quart of sauce.

It cooks down a long way, so always make more than looks sensible.

Both, and it keeps its colour either way. Freeze it in usable portions, or water-bath can it the way you would any apple sauce.

A batch made in October is a very good thing to find in the freezer in February.

Yes — it breaks down easily and the aroma concentrates beautifully over a long slow cook.

Start from the sauce above, then keep cooking it low and slow until it darkens and thickens.

For sauce, no — leave the skins on and sieve them out at the end, which is how you get the pink.

For a pie, peel them. The skins do not soften enough to disappear the way they do in a sauce.

Quarter them and cut the core out with a paring knife — on a soft apple that is faster than fighting a corer.

If you are making sauce and sieving it anyway, you can be rough about it. The mill catches what you miss.

Yes — push the cooked fruit through an ordinary sieve with the back of a ladle. It takes longer but works exactly the same way.

If you have neither, peel the apples first and mash them. You lose the pink but the flavour is still there.

Almost always because the apples were peeled, or because they were not red enough. The colour lives entirely in the skin.

Deeply coloured fruit gives the best pink. A greener batch gives a paler sauce, and tastes just as good.

Ideal — homemade Mac sauce is exactly what those recipes want, and the aroma comes through the bake.

Use it unsweetened and adjust the sugar in the recipe to suit.

The apple is McIntosh, no “a”. The computer is Macintosh, with one. Both are named after the same fruit.

You will see the apple written Macintosh all over the internet. It is a very old mistake and a very understandable one.

Yes. Jef Raskin, who started the project at Apple, named it after his favourite apple — the McIntosh.

He changed the spelling to Macintosh to avoid a clash with McIntosh Laboratory, the audio company. So the computer on your desk is named after an apple from an Ontario farm.

Because it has been a household name in the Northeast and in Canada for well over a century, and household names get shortened.

The whole family that descends from it — Cortland, Macoun, Empire, Spartan and more — gets called the Mac family for the same reason.

Not at all. They are both red, and that is where it ends. Red Delicious is mild, sweet and thick-skinned; McIntosh is tart, intensely aromatic and thin-skinned.

If someone finds Red Delicious bland, McIntosh is often the apple that changes their mind about apples.

Genuinely, yes. The original tree was found around 1811, which makes it older than most apples you can buy.

Very few heirlooms went on to become supermarket staples. McIntosh is one of the handful that did.

From a farm in Dundela, Ontario. John McIntosh found a handful of wild apple seedlings while clearing land on his property around 1811, and transplanted them.

One of them turned out to be exceptional. Every McIntosh apple in the world is a graft descended from that single tree.

A farmer of Scottish descent who settled in Upper Canada. He was not a plant breeder and was not looking for a new apple — he was clearing scrub.

His son Allan later learned to graft, which is what turned one good tree into a variety the world could grow.

No. It was a chance seedling — a wild apple that grew where nobody planted it, and happened to be worth keeping.

Almost every great old apple started this way. Someone tasted a volunteer seedling, thought that is something, and grafted it instead of pulling it out.

Not for certain. The Fameuse, or Snow Apple, is the usual guess and the resemblance is strong — white flesh, red skin, that aromatic tang.

But nobody planted the seed, so nobody recorded what it came from. That is part of the romance of it.

No. The original McIntosh tree bore fruit for well over a century and finally died in the 1900s. A plaque marks the spot on the old farm at Dundela.

The tree is gone, but every Mac you eat is genetically that same tree, carried forward by grafting for two hundred years.

It spread steadily through the late 1800s and became a commercial giant in the twentieth century, especially across New York, New England, Michigan, Ontario and Quebec.

For decades it was the apple of the Northeast, and in much of Canada it still is.

Because it thrives in a cool climate, and because generations grew up on it. It is the apple in the school lunch, the cider jug and the Thanksgiving pie.

Ask someone from upstate New York or Vermont what an apple tastes like and they will describe a McIntosh.

Because it is Canadian. The original tree grew in Ontario, and McIntosh has been the backbone of the Canadian apple crop ever since.

It crossed into New York and New England early and became just as much a fixture there.

Grafting. A cutting from the original tree, joined to another rootstock, grows into a tree bearing identical fruit — and cuttings from that one do the same.

Do that for two hundred years and one seedling becomes an industry.

A remarkable number. Cortland, Macoun, Empire, Spartan, Jersey Mac, Acey Mac and Liberty all have McIntosh in their family tree.

It is one of the most-used parents in North American apple breeding, and the family keeps growing.

Yes — Cortland is a direct child, bred at Geneva, New York in 1898 from a McIntosh cross.

It kept the aromatic sweet-tart flavour and added snow-white flesh that resists browning, which is why Cortland became the salad apple.

Yes, another Geneva child of McIntosh and widely considered one of the best-flavoured dessert apples in the Northeast.

Macoun is sweeter and firmer than its parent, and it has a devoted following.

Yes — Empire is McIntosh crossed with Red Delicious, which gave it Mac flavour on a firmer, better-travelling apple.

If you like McIntosh but wish it held up better in a lunchbox, Empire is the obvious next step.

Yes, a Canadian child of McIntosh from British Columbia — darker-skinned, firmer and a touch sweeter.

It is a good example of how far the Mac family spread.

Not the same apple, but firmly in the family. Jersey Mac was bred in New Jersey to deliver Mac aroma and juice weeks earlier in the season.

It is the apple to eat while you are waiting for real McIntosh to come in.

The loose name for McIntosh and everything descended from it, which is a great deal of the Northeast’s apple crop.

They share a recognisable character: aromatic, juicy, sweet-tart, white-fleshed, and better in cool climates than hot ones.

Yes, quite a few. Growers have selected strains that colour up earlier or darker — Marshall, Rogers, Pioneer and others.

They are all McIntosh. The differences are in how the skin colours and when the fruit is ready, not really in how it tastes.

Most people who have tried them all say Macoun — sweeter and firmer than its parent, with the same aroma. It has a genuinely devoted following.

Cortland is the most useful in the kitchen, and Empire the most practical for a lunchbox.

In flavour, very much so — Liberty comes out of the McIntosh line through Macoun and eats like a Mac: bright, juicy and sweet-tart.

It is firmer than McIntosh, and it makes pink applesauce too.

Early to mid September in most of the Northeast, and it is one of the first really good apples of the season.

Our own crop usually starts shipping around the middle of September. See Harvest Times for where the season stands.

Several weeks to a couple of months in the refrigerator, which is decent for such a tender apple but nothing like a long keeper.

Buy McIntosh to eat now. If you want apples for February, buy something built for it.

In the crisper drawer of the refrigerator, in a loosely closed bag. Cold and slightly humid is what they want.

A McIntosh left on a warm counter softens noticeably within a week. Refrigerate anything you are not eating straight away.

For a few days, and they look lovely in a bowl. Beyond that you are spending the quality you paid for.

Keep out what you will eat in the next day or two and refrigerate the rest.

Yes, for cooking. Peel, core, slice, toss with a squeeze of lemon, freeze flat on a tray and then bag them.

Thawed apple is soft — which matters very little for a variety you were going to cook down anyway.

Warmth. McIntosh is a tender apple and it softens faster than most at room temperature.

Straight into the refrigerator is the whole trick. A cold Mac stays good for weeks; a warm one does not.

No. Apples give off ethylene, which ripens and then over-ripens everything nearby.

Keep them in their own drawer — it is the easiest thing you can do to make the rest of the refrigerator last longer.

Because the crop is not ready yet, or the season has finished. McIntosh comes in from early September and does not last all year.

Harvest Times shows where the season stands; Ready to Ship shows what is leaving the farm today.

Cold, humid and undisturbed. The crisper drawer, a loosely closed bag, and do not keep taking them in and out.

Every day at room temperature costs you texture on this variety more than on most.

Absolutely. Cut the bruise out and use the rest — and if you are making sauce, it hardly matters at all.

A tender apple marks easily. That is not the same as being spoiled.

They make a soft, fragrant, almost saucy pie — wonderful if that is what you want, frustrating if you wanted neat slices.

The classic fix is to blend. Half McIntosh for flavour and half a firm apple such as Cortland, Northern Spy or GoldRush for structure.

Northern Spy is the traditional answer in the Northeast, and it is a good one — firm, tart and it holds its shape.

Cortland works beautifully too, and being McIntosh’s own child it keeps the family flavour.

Excellent — they press a fragrant, bright juice, and most Northeastern sweet cider has a good deal of McIntosh in it.

For hard cider it works as the aromatic, sharp component in a blend rather than on its own.

Yes, and the juice is superb — that aroma comes straight through. It is one of the best juicing apples there is.

Drink it fresh; it is at its best within a day or two.

The flavour is lovely but they brown quickly and the flesh is soft, so dice them last and dress them straight away.

If the salad is sitting out, Cortland is the better choice — same family, same flavour, and it holds its colour.

Very, especially blended. On their own they cook down soft under the topping, which some people love and others do not.

Half Mac and half a firmer apple gives you the aroma with some texture left.

You can, though softer apples give a chewier, less crisp ring than a dense variety would.

Slice thin and even. A squeeze of lemon keeps the rings pale.

Not really — they collapse. A whole baked McIntosh tends to burst and slump.

For baking whole, Rome is the classic choice and holds its shape beautifully.

McIntosh blended with a firm apple — traditionally Northern Spy. The Macs melt down and carry the flavour; the Spy holds its slices.

All Mac gives you a soft, saucy pie. Some families swear by exactly that.

Yes — it cooks down fast, which suits it to sauces for pork, sausages and roast poultry.

Cook it with onions and a little cider vinegar and you have something very good alongside a roast.

A medium McIntosh — about 180 grams — is roughly 90 to 100 calories. A small one is nearer 70 to 75; a large one runs 110 to 125.

The figure to work from is 52 calories per 100 grams, from USDA, for a raw apple with the skin on. McIntosh is a medium apple, so one is a comfortable single serving.

A large McIntosh of about 225 grams comes to roughly 110 to 125 calories.

Across the sizes we pack: small (~140 g) about 73, medium (~180 g) about 94, large (~225 g) about 117. Multiply the weight in grams by 0.52 for a close estimate at any size.

A small McIntosh of about 140 grams is roughly 70 to 75 calories.

A kitchen scale beats guessing from the word on the bag — and the apple count on a case is the quickest guide, since a 72-count fruit is considerably larger than a 125-count.

Per 100 grams of raw McIntosh with the skin on: about 52 calories, 13.81 g carbohydrate, 2.4 g fiber, 0.26 g protein, 0.17 g fat, 107 mg potassium and 85.56 g water.

For a medium apple of about 180 grams that is roughly 94 calories, 25 g carbohydrate and 4.3 g fiber. The full table by size is in the nutrition section above.

About 23 to 27 grams of total carbohydrate in a medium apple, of which roughly 4.3 grams is fiber — so approximately 21 grams of net carbs.

Per 100 grams that is 13.81 grams. That is typical for an apple.

Roughly 25 grams of total carbohydrate in a medium apple, with about 4.3 grams of that being dietary fiber.

Essentially all of an apple’s calories are carbohydrate — there is almost no fat and, in this cultivar, about 0.26 grams of protein per 100 grams.

About 17 to 21 grams in a medium apple, all of it the fruit’s own — nothing is added. That is 10.4 grams per 100 grams of fruit.

McIntosh eats bright and tangy rather than sweet — the tartness arrives first, and it mellows as the season goes on. That balance is why it makes such good sauce and cider.

About 4.3 grams in a medium apple with the skin on — 2.4 grams per 100 grams.

That is about average for an apple. Peeling costs you roughly a third of it.

Very little of either: about 0.5 grams of protein and 0.3 grams of fat in a medium apple, and virtually no sodium.

Apples are almost entirely water and carbohydrate — McIntosh is about 85.56 percent water by weight.

About 107 mg per 100 grams, so roughly 193 mg in a medium apple.

That is typical for an apple.

About 8.3 mg in a medium apple — 4.6 mg per 100 grams.

Apples are not a major vitamin C source next to citrus; an orange carries roughly ten times as much. What there is sits mostly just under the skin and degrades with heat, so a raw unpeeled apple retains more of it than a baked one.

For fiber, yes — roughly a third of it sits in the skin, along with most of the fruit’s colour compounds.

McIntosh skin is thin and tender, and it is where the pink in the applesauce comes from, so leave it on. Rinse under running water and rub with your hands before eating, as with any fresh fruit.

Roughly two large, three medium or four small apples make a pound — three medium is the standard working assumption in American recipes.

McIntosh runs medium, so three to the pound is a fair working assumption. About nine or ten make a good quart of applesauce.

Almost opposites. Honeycrisp is all about the crunch — big, explosive, mild and sweet. McIntosh is all about aroma and tang, in a tender apple.

Honeycrisp keeps far longer. McIntosh has more flavour per bite. Plenty of households buy both.

Parent and child, and very alike in flavour. Cortland is firmer, a little milder, and its snow-white flesh resists browning.

Cortland for salads and platters; McIntosh for sauce, cider and eating out of hand.

Empire is McIntosh crossed with Red Delicious — the Mac flavour on a firmer, denser apple that travels better.

If you like McIntosh but want something that survives a backpack, Empire is the answer.

Gala is mild and sweet with no tart edge; McIntosh is tangy and aromatic. Gala is the crowd-pleaser, McIntosh the one with character.

Gala also keeps much better. They come in at a similar time, so it is easy to try both.

Its own children. Cortland, Macoun and Empire all carry the family flavour in slightly different packages.

Macoun is the one most often called an improvement on the original — sweeter and firmer, with the same aroma.

Stay in the family and go firmer: Macoun, Empire or Cortland. You keep the flavour and gain texture.

If you want a genuinely hard apple, Honeycrisp, EverCrisp or GoldRush.

McIntosh, and it is not a close contest. It breaks down faster, smells better and needs less help than anything else we grow.

Leave the skins on and you get pink sauce into the bargain.

Parent and child. Macoun is sweeter, firmer and a touch richer; McIntosh is tarter and more openly aromatic.

Macoun is the better eating apple for most people. McIntosh is the better cooking apple, and comes in earlier.

Paula Red is the earlier stand-in — a tart, bright, tender apple with a Mac-like character that arrives in late August.

When Paula Red shows up, real McIntosh is only a couple of weeks away.

Yes, when the crop allows, and a case is the sensible way to buy if you are making sauce.

What is available today is on Ready to Ship. Tell us what you need and we will tell you what we have.

Carefully — this is a tender apple. Packed snug so nothing rolls, kept cold, and out the door fast.

Put them in the refrigerator as soon as they arrive. A little surface marking on a Mac is normal and does not affect eating.

Yes, and it is a good garden tree in a cool climate — it is hardy, reliable and has been grown across the north for two centuries.

It wants full sun, decent drainage and another apple variety nearby to pollinate it. It is not happy in a hot climate.

Most apples flowering at the same time will do it — Gala, Cortland, Golden Delicious or a crabapple.

It will not set a decent crop alone, so plan on a partner within bee range.

That depends almost entirely on the rootstock. On a dwarfing stock expect 8 to 12 feet; on a standard one it becomes a proper orchard tree.

For a garden, ask the nursery for a dwarfing rootstock so you can pick from the ground.

Because they do not keep that long. McIntosh is a tender, aromatic autumn apple, and the varieties you see in July are the ones bred to survive storage.

That is a fair trade. You get it at its best for a few months instead of a shadow of it all year.

Us. We grow it, pack it and ship it, and we would rather answer a question than have you guess.

Use the contact details on the site and a person will reply.

Usually, yes. It is widely grown, unpatented and carries no licence fee, so there is no royalty in the price.

That makes it one of the best-value apples in the autumn, especially by the case for sauce.

Roughly 30 to 36 in a peck and around 100 to 120 in a half bushel, depending on how the fruit sizes that year.

A peck is about 10 to 12 pounds — enough for three or four quarts of sauce.