In my waning days as an editor at the Hartford Courant in 1993, I was invited into the uber-geeky, somehow uber-cool Les Amies du Pomme (that's French, and I'm not, so I'm sure at least part of that is wrong). It was a cabal of nature-loving colleagues who would buy heirloom apples from rural Connecticut roadside stands and bring them to our private sampling table in the break room.

We would section each one, taste, and comment — on its sweetness, or texture, or whatever moved us. I'm not sure why I was invited — it was probably no more than walking by at the right time — but had standards been any more rigorous, I would have been an excellent candidate. Because I love apples. Pink Ladies, Granny Smiths, Macouns when you can get 'em, and lately, surprisingly, a tepid reopening to McIntoshes.

According to a chart accompanying the Mother Jones story that is the thin justification for this post — actually, that should be "the meaty justification for this thin post" — Red Delicious, Gala, and Golden Delicious are the three most common applies sold, and I haven't a whit of respect for any of them. Grannies are next, followed by Fujis (best of the bad lot), McIntoshes, Romes, Empires and Honeycrisps, which are nice enough but not worth the premium at the register.

The food plan I follow calls for fruit four times a day, and most days, that translates to three apples and one "other," though in the fall, when my local farm adds on Baldwins, Northern Spys, and a few others I can't remember because they flit by too quickly, that generally becomes four for four until the harvest of runs out.

I'm not the only one who loves the variety. So does Mainer John Bunker, the subject of the Mother Jones story. He has made rescuing almost-lost varieties of apples a life's work. Writer Rowan Jacobsen says "Bunk" has saved 80-100 varieties during 30 years of effort that has included putting up wanted posters in corner stores and tramping to long-forgotten orchards.

The story is soaked in richness, about the man, his mission, and its implications. I wish I'd written it, and recommend you read it.