[bsk26]

We had a bunch of apple trees when I was a kid, including a red delicious tree that was probably planted in the 1920s. Its apples were my favorite, especially when they became crisp and sweet after a light frost. Perhaps store bought red delicious suck but I think this hate is just misplaced elitism from people who've never had one off the tree.

[maxerickson]

How is it elitism to say that the 99% of the variety that people actually eat suck?

I would think the elitism is insisting that the only way to truly judge them is straight off the tree (after a spell of opportunistic weather).

[bsk26]

I guess that's exactly why I thought it was a bit snobby ... internet folks trashing the preferences of 99 percent of the population.

Having a tree is pretty hard where I live now but pretty normal back in the Midwest.

[throwanem]

They might be a mouthful of orgasms when eaten right off the tree. The ones in the supermarket are still made of open-cell foam and disappointment.

[dragonwriter]

> Perhaps store bought red delicious suck but I think this hate is just misplaced elitism from people who've never had one off the tree.

I've had Red Delicious both directly off the tree and reasonably fresh from the farm, and they are, in either of those cases, generally far better than from the supermarket, true.

Even so, they aren't now as good as I remember them—even from the supermarket—from 30-35 years ago (they seem to be on average a lot more mealy now), and, even back then they were a middling variety for eating without preparation, and not particularly outstanding for any preparation I can think of.

[Justin_K]

It's not elitism - the problem is virtually nobody has access to the quality of apples you did. Generally speaking, we are limited to what is at the store, and they taste like shit.

[colordrops]

Having a tree to have fresh apples is a bit more elite than most of us that have to buy them from the store...

[throwanem]

Shouldn't think so, at least not of necessity. I lived next to a small apple orchard for a while as a kid, and in a tumbledown hovel with chipboard walls at that; the trees belonged to the same farmer who rented us the place, who certainly wasn't any more a member of any elite anywhere than we ourselves were.