Crab apples often grow in the margins: scrubland, field edges, woodland rides. Their fruit is sharp, their branches twisted, and their history tangled with old words, orchard lore, and midwinter rites. I remember picking crab apples with my grandmother as a child. I think she used them for jelly — mint and apple — which we ate with roast dinners.

This series explores the etymology of the crab apple, from Germanic roots and Old English forms to its role in wassailing traditions and foraged recipes. We’ve also gathered the names for crab apple or wild apple across over 30 languages: Romance, Germanic, Celtic, Semitic, Turkic, and beyond. Some name the tree for its crooked shape, others for its bite. Together, they tell a story of edges: linguistic, seasonal, and botanical.

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Hawthorn: a thorn for the hedge, a berry for the branch