I Have A Beef With Cosmic Crisp Apples

Bev Potter
4 min readMar 20, 2022


Is this a Cosmic Crisp? Who knows. (Photo by Shelley Pauls on Unsplash)

Much like Dan Ackroyd and John Belushi in The Blues Brothers, I was on a mission from God.

I’d been reading about Cosmic Crisp apples since their debut in 2020. They were expected to be a “game changer in the industry”. I saw full-page ads in magazines — the kind of ads you see in Variety and Vanity Fair when a movie is up for an Oscar.

Clearly, this was a life-changing apple and I had to try one.

But lo, though I searched and searched, the days and weeks turning into months and then years of eating inferior apples like some kind of peasant, I could not find a Cosmic Crisp, the apple bestowed upon us from on high.

What exactly is a Cosmic Crisp apple?

Cosmic Crisp (of course there’s a website) is a cross between Enterprise and Honeycrisp varieties. I’ve never heard of an Enterprise apple, so I’ll take their word for it. But Honeycrisp is the ultimate apple (fight me) so it had to be at least half good.

Apparently the Cosmic Crisp has been in development for something like 20 years. Big Apple is real, people. I picture scientists in white coats and goggles working day and night to make this apple, their frustration growing minute by minute.

“Dammit, Jenkins, there must be a way!”

I looked in every grocery store in a 20-mile radius, including the fancy grocery store where I always spend a million dollars and was almost run over by Dick Goddard in the parking lot.

But in the end I had to go farther afield, to the really fancy grocery store in Wooster, which is where all the rich people from the elite liberal arts college shop.

My bank account takes a hit just from looking at the prepared foods. Alarms go off if I touch the Brussels sprouts.

This store has everything. You need a 50-pound wheel of cheese? We got it. You need every brand of sparkling, bougie hard cider made by tattooed, man-bunned hipsters? We got it.

And so, as I stepped through the sliding doors, I walked straight into a Cosmic Crisp display because for some reason this store thinks…



Bev Potter

Legal secretary by day, insomniac by night. Ally. BA, MA. Humor, pop culture, and things that make you think. My weekly-ish newsletter is