Mind the fruit

Who was Granny Smith, the apple? Fruits and veggies with real names

You probably know a Granny Smith from a McIntosh, and you may have ordered Hass avocado without giving its name a second thought. But many familiar fruits and vegetables are actually carrying around the names of real people. Behind those supermarket labels are farmers, judges, missionaries, immigrants, and a few very lucky gardeners. Let’s take a look at 11 people whose names unexpectedly became part of our grocery vocabulary!

Yes, Granny Smith was a real granny. Maria Ann Smith was born in England in 1799 and emigrated to Australia with her husband, Thomas, in 1838. The couple eventually established an orchard in Eastwood, near Sydney.

Around 1868, Smith showed another orchardist an unusual apple seedling growing near a creek on her property, apparently from discarded crab apples. She propagated it, but died in 1870, before seeing its success. By the 1890s, "Granny Smith's seedlings" were winning prizes, and her crisp green apple was on its way to international fame.

Rudolph Hass wasn't a famous botanist. He was a California mail carrier who bought avocado seedlings for a small orchard in La Habra Heights in the 1920s. One stubborn little tree resisted his attempts to graft another avocado variety onto it.

Luckily, Hass didn't chop it down. The tree produced delicious fruit with an unusual rough, dark skin, and his children reportedly loved it. Hass patented the variety in 1935, giving it his surname. Today, the Hass dominates the avocado business, but its namesake made relatively little money from the tree that transformed the industry.

The name behind America's famous dark-red cherry belonged to a 19th-century Chinese immigrant. Ah Bing worked for decades as foreman at horticulturist Seth Lewelling's nursery in Milwaukie, Oregon, where he supervised a large crew of Chinese workers.

Historical accounts differ over exactly how much credit Bing deserves for developing the variety, but they agree that Lewelling named it in his honor. Bing returned to China in 1889 and never came back to America. More than a century later, however, his name remains attached to one of the country's most important sweet cherries.

The boysenberry almost vanished before most people ever got a chance to taste one. California horticulturist Rudolph Boysen experimented with berry hybrids during the 1920s but eventually abandoned the project and the surviving plants.

USDA horticulturist George Darrow later became intrigued by reports of Boysen's enormous berries and enlisted grower Walter Knott to help find them. They discovered neglected vines on Boysen's former property, transplanted them, and brought them back to health. Knott sold the rediscovered fruit under Boysen's name, helping launch the business that became Knott's Berry Farm.

The clementine didn't take its name from a farmer named Clementine. Its namesake was Clément Rodier, a French Catholic missionary brother who worked at an orphanage in Misserghin, near Oran in what was then French Algeria.

Around the turn of the 20th century, a new type of mandarin appeared in the orphanage's citrus garden and came to be associated with Brother Clément. Its precise botanical origins have been debated, but his connection to the name is well established. The little seedless citrus traveled quickly: clementines were already being cultivated in Riverside, California, by 1909.

After settling in Dundela, Ontario, John McIntosh discovered wild apple seedlings growing on land he was clearing and transplanted several of them. One survived and produced particularly good fruit.

His family propagated the tree, and the McIntosh eventually became one of Canada's best-known apples. But the surname made another unexpected leap in the 20th century. Apple employee Jef Raskin named the Macintosh computer project after his favorite apple variety, changing the spelling. One chance seedling ultimately helped name a technological revolution.

Enoch Bartlett received one of the most successful cases of mistaken credit in horticultural history. The pear Americans call Bartlett was already an English variety known as Williams' Bon Chrétien when trees were brought to Massachusetts around 1799.

Bartlett later acquired the property where they were growing and, apparently unaware of their European identity, propagated and distributed the pear under his own name. Americans eventually discovered that Bartlett and Williams were the same variety, but the new name had already stuck. That's why Americans still buy Bartlett pears while British shoppers generally know them as Williams pears.

Imagine having a respectable career as a judge and being remembered mainly for a berry. That was the unusual fate of James Harvey Logan, a lawyer, judge, and enthusiastic amateur horticulturist in Santa Cruz, California.

In the 1880s, Logan experimented with berries in his garden and produced the reddish-purple fruit that became known as the loganberry. Its exact parentage has generated some historical debate, but Logan's role and the origin of its name are clear. His horticultural experiments proved remarkably durable: more than a century later, his surname still appears on jams, desserts, and berry plants.

Before Luther Burbank became one of America's most celebrated plant breeders, a potato helped finance his future. While farming in Lunenburg, Massachusetts, he noticed a rare seed ball growing on an Early Rose potato plant and experimented with its seeds.

One of the resulting plants produced unusually promising potatoes. Burbank sold the rights to his new variety for about $150: a modest-looking sum today, but enough to help fund his move to California in 1875. There he developed hundreds of plant varieties. The later Russet Burbank descended from his potato and became especially important in American agriculture.

Richard Cox was a retired English brewer who pursued horticulture at his property in Buckinghamshire, where he raised the apple that would eventually bear his surname around 1825.

The Cox's Orange Pippin became one of Britain's classic dessert apples, but Cox himself never witnessed the height of its fame. He died in 1845, while nurseryman Charles Turner introduced the variety commercially around 1850.

Let’s revive them!

Once lost, now found: These 12 forgotten words deserve a revival

Image: Nick Fewings

Since language is constantly evolving and changing, over the years, some truly amazing words have vanished from common use, even though they perfectly describe things we still experience today. Why should we settle for dull modern terms when we could revive these gems? Let’s take a trip through time and rediscover some unusual, long-lost words that are just begging to be used again. You might just find a new favorite!

Image: Omar Lopez

Forget "tipsy" or "sloshed." If you’ve ever seen someone having the time of their life after a few too many drinks, they were rouzy-bouzy.

This 17th-century word describes the kind of lively, uninhibited intoxication that leads to off-key karaoke and questionable dance moves. It comes from an old Dutch word for "boozy," making it a natural fit for those who enjoy a drink every other night. Unlike some less flattering terms for drunkenness, rouzy-bouzy sounds almost celebratory!

Image: Cytonn Photography

No, this isn’t someone with equal skill in both hands. An ambodexter is a person who takes bribes from both sides of an argument. First recorded in the 16th century, this word was a favorite in legal and political circles when describing particularly shady characters.

Today, we would call them "double-crossers" or "sellouts," but doesn’t ambodexter have a more dramatic twist?

Image: Nguyễn Phúc

The next time someone lowers their voice and starts whispering like they’re part of some great conspiracy, you can accuse them of engaging in hugger-mugger.

This term, which dates back to the 16th century, originally referred to secrecy and confusion, perfect for any sneaky dealings or hushed gossip sessions. Now, those who do it might be conspiring against something, but the world sounds quite playful!

Image: Apostolos Vamvouras

Have you ever met someone who applies their makeup with a trowel? Congratulations! You’ve witnessed pargeting in action. This word, which originally referred to decorative plasterwork in architecture, was later used to describe the act of overdoing your makeup.

In an age of contouring and airbrushing, perhaps we should bring back parget, right? A little mascara is fine, but when someone spends three hours sculpting their cheekbones, well… they’re definitely pargetting.

Image: Christin Hume

If someone offers you miracle cures that seem too good to be true, they’re a quacksalver. This wonderfully old-fashioned insult referred to fraudulent healers who claimed to have secret remedies for all ailments.

The word itself combines "quack" (as in a fake doctor) with "salve," a reference to their dubious balms and lotions. While modern medicine has come a long way, quacksalvers are still around today, so watch out and start spreading the word!

Image: Redd Francisco

A percher is someone who’s always trying to climb the social or professional ladder, often with a little too much enthusiasm. The term, which dates back to the 16th century, originally referred to birds perching on higher branches, that’s where its association with people reaching for higher status comes from.

We all know a percher: the one who name-drops important people, angles for promotions, or suddenly becomes best friends with whoever’s in charge. While ambition isn’t a bad thing, there’s a fine line between working hard and perching a little too aggressively!

Image: Afif Ramdhasuma

We’ve all experienced being so shocked or overwhelmed that we couldn’t even form a sentence. If you have, you were awhaped.

This medieval word describes that feeling you get when something absolutely astonishing happens. Originally used for moments that were too terrifying, the word has also been used to describe the kind of surprise that happy moments bring. Awhape is the perfect way to sum up that moment of pure, speechless amazement.

Image: Ruslan Valeev

Back in the days of Old English, if the skies darkened or someone’s mood suddenly changed, people would say things had swerked. This moody little word describes that exact moment when things go from bright and cheerful to stormy and brooding. Considering how many people feel a little swerk when Monday rolls around, this word is just begging for a comeback!

Image: Stefano Pollio

Some things are just downright tremblable, that is, so terrifying, they make you shudder. This long-lost word, which means "causing dread or horror," was once used to describe anything spine-chilling or awe-inspiring.

Picture haunted houses, ghost stories, or even your doctor’s bill, truly tremblable things. It’s got a poetic ring to it, much more dramatic than just calling something "scary." And necessary too, the modern world is a tremblable one, right?

Image: Ben White

A rouker is the kind of person who thrives on hushed conversations and spreading juicy tidbits of information. This word, which dates back to at least the 14th century, refers to someone who whispers or murmurs—often with the intent of stirring up trouble.

We all know a rouker or two, whether it’s that one neighbor who always "just happens" to know everyone’s business or the coworker who mysteriously knows about every office romance. And let’s face it, we’ve all been one at some point!