Honeycrisp apples are popular worldwide. Some WA growers hate them

TONASKET, Okanogan County – Ever since Eve bit the forbidden fruit, apples have held a certain mystique.
They say that one a day keeps the doctor away. Billions per year keep Washington farms hopping. And “if each person ate 2.5 more pounds of apples” per year, said fourth-generation farmer Kait Thornton, “you could save the apple industry” in our state.
In Washington, more than 5 billion pounds of apples were produced this fall by an industry that “generates over $8 billion in economic impact for the state of Washington and supports almost 70,000 jobs,” per the Washington State Tree Fruit Association. Some 1,200 commercial apple growers in the Evergreen State produce about 70% of the country’s apples – and 4% of the world’s crop.
The industry has grown steadily in the last decade, and Washington lead s the nation in fresh apple production. And yet, the state’s farmers are nervous.
And it’s all our fault.
Yes, us. Apple eaters are fickle, always reaching for the latest and greatest fruit.
Apple production, as with many commodity crops, follows the trends and tastes of consumers. A little over 25 years ago, Red Delicious was Washington’s top variety of apple – a perfect fruit for farmers, it was standardized in size and flavor, an easy grower in our climate; it’s an apple that transports and stores beautifully.
Today, the classic, giant, deep-red apple makes up around 12% of the state’s annual harvest – and we export the bulk of them, because American consumers have fallen for different apples.
“Once you standardize something, people miss novelty,” says Jon Devaney, president of the tree fruit association.
Consumer tastes and expectations have veered away from the creamy softness of the Red and Golden Delicious varieties. The Honeycrisp entered the market decades ago, as people sought a juicier, more crisp and tart apple. The Minnesota invention was formally introduced in 1991 – and now Honeycrisp is a perennial fan favorite among apple lovers.
They made up 15% of this year’s Washington crop, tied for the state’s second most-produced apple.
But Honeycrisps are a real problem child for Washington growers.
This year’s crop
There’s a lot to love about Washington’s 2025 apple harvest.
Per a Washington Apple Commission projection last month, when the harvest was roughly 80% complete, Washington apple producers will produce an estimated 135 million boxes of apples in 2025 (roughly 5.4 billion pounds of fruit) to be sold on the fresh market.
Those 135 million boxes of apples represent about three-quarters of the total crop in Washington, while the rest is sold to processing for products like apple sauce and juice. About two decades ago, “our production was more commonly in the 100 million box range,” said Michael Schadler, president of the Washington Apple Commission.
Washington exports roughly 30% of its apples to more than 50 countries: closer to home, like Mexico and Canada, as well as Taiwan, India and Vietnam.
Why does the state export so many? Because U.S. apple eaters are picky.
At the beginning of the 2025 apple harvest, Thornton posted a TikTok with her dad, Geoff, bemoaning that popular, sweet, tart apple, saying he “hated Honeycrisp.”
“They’re like the mean girl at a dance,” Geoff said of Honeycrisp apples in the video, which has been viewed nearly 2 million times.
Honeycrisp is second to Galas, Washington’s No. 1 apple at 18% of total production, and is tied with Granny Smith for No. 2, followed by Red Delicious, Cosmic Crisp, Fuji and Cripps Pink.
Geoff has been growing apples, apricots and pears for decades in tiny Tonasket, roughly 20 miles south of the Canadian border in Okanogan County. His family farm began in the 1920s. He’s been on his own since 1986, slowly buying back land and expanding the farm, adding varietals and transitioning fields to organic crops.
“Washington’s pride and joy is apples,” he said.
Geoff has seen many things change in his time farming. He knows that apple varietals rise and fall in popularity as consumer tastes change. But he’s going public with a plea for apple lovers this year. Eat something other than Honeycrisp. Please.
“We wanted an apple that would increase consumption,” Geoff said, “and bless Honeycrisp’s heart, because it did that. The nation fell in love with Honeycrisp. But it’s really hard to grow. It gives you the promise of reward, but then you try too hard and you’re bitterly disappointed.”
He said it’s one of the most high-maintenance apples out there.
“They’re always like, ‘What can you do for me?’ ” Geoff said. “A little extra nutrient spray, special water irrigation program; we’ll have a lot one year and we won’t have any the next.”
All apples for the fresh market are picked by hand, but the skin on a Honeycrisp is thin, meaning each stem must also be clipped by hand just after picking, so they don’t poke holes in other apples in a bin. They’re also prone to calcium deficiency, leading to spots, a bitter pit and mold.
These apples thrive in spots like Minnesota and Michigan, where they were developed, so you might say that farmers have been fighting an uphill battle since the beginning.
“A really good Honeycrisp crop would be packing 60%, throwing away 40%,” Geoff said. “Cosmic Crisp, you might pack 85 or even 90%. It’s really a much more grower-friendly apple variety.”
Now, throwing away doesn’t mean 40% of Honeycrisp apples are left on the orchard floor. Those apples are sold to a secondary market for juice, puree or cider.
“But that market is drastically reduced,” Kait said, “because we’re importing so much concentrate from China,” which produces half the world’s apples by volume, according to the Washington Apple Commission.
And because Honeycrisp rootstock is available to anyone who wants to grow it, there’s a lot of product out there to potentially crowd the market.
“The 2023 crop I grew (was) the biggest crop I had ever grown, and I had such high hopes,” Geoff said. “I grew 15 million pounds of fruit as a small family farm, 400 acres, built it myself working every day – and I lost $1.5 million for my effort. We’re overproduced.”
This year looks good so far, but the farmer is hedging his bets.
“I’m in the worst financial shape that I’ve been in in those 39 years that I’ve been growing,” Geoff said. Devaney said the last “several years have not been great for fruit growers,” between inflation affecting the cost of everything from equipment to inputs to increases in costs of labor and significant tumult when it comes to international trade deals and exports during the Trump administration.
“Growers and farmers in general are generally the only folks who pay retail for everything, sell wholesale and pay the transportation both ways,” Devaney said. “Equipment, fertilizers, rapid increases in the cost of (agriculture) labor, such that labor costs have been either just above or just below 100% of gross returns. A lot of growers have had large, sustained losses over several years. That’s a hard place to be.”
Growers say they’re left to make long-term investments and hope that tastes and trends don’t change too much by the time those investments – everything from rootstock to equipment – come to fruition. Growing a tree takes three to five years to come into full production. That’s a lot of time to wait and pray that people like the end result.
Geoff saw the writing on the wall with Honeycrisp a few years ago. He has made changes, investing in other apple varieties that are still up and coming, like the SugarBee apple and Cosmic Crisp. Those varieties also have the distinction of being Washington-produced, meaning they’re naturally better suited for the Tonasket climate.
“I’m putting my last gasps of money into new varieties, the Happi Pear, and the best apple I’ve ever raised in my 39-year career: the SugarBee,” Geoff said.
Devaney of the tree fruit association knows it’s all a gamble.
“You can spend upwards of $70,000 per acre putting in the trees, setting up a trellis, irrigation, waiting three to five years, and then when you’re selling that fruit, consumers eat it and like it,” he said. “Multiply by a couple hundred acres, it’s easy to bet the farm on a variety.”
Kait echoed that hopeful sentiment, saying that her family farm is “always chasing the next big thing with each new variety.”