If the sun is beginning to ride low in the sky and the evening breeze carries a hint of frost now and then, it must be apple harvest time. This is one of my favorite seasons of year, when apple growers start bringing their crisp Fuji, tangy Arkansas Black Twig, mellow Mutsu, and crunchy Newtown Pippin apples to the farmers market. If I’m lucky, there will be a few Winter Banana and Esopus Spitzenberg varieties in the mix.

Just-picked apples are vibrant testimony to the glories of locally grown fruit in season. Bite into a Fuji fresh off the tree and that imported Granny Smith from the supermarket seems bland and boring by comparison. The green and red striated Fuji, with a touch of russet at the shoulders, is so crisp its flesh almost cracks at the bite. Its bright flavor is nicely balanced between sugar and acid. No wonder it’s become so popular since it was first introduced into the U.S. from Japan in the 1980s.

I’m lucky I live near California’s Pajaro Valley, where apple trees have dotted the gently rolling hills since the mid-19th century. Although many apple orchards have been supplanted by high-profit strawberry fields, some growers continue to raise uncommon varieties such as the Arkansas Black Twig with its firm flesh and complex, wine-like flavors. The tart, green Newtown Pippin, America’s first export apple in the 18th century, still grows in many area orchards. Although most of the crop goes into juice, it’s a great pie apple.

Finding one of these old varieties among a farmer’s boxes is like reuniting with an old friend. Each has a distinct, endearing personality.

At the beginning of the season, it’s delight enough to munch on a fresh, crunchy apple. But I’m a cook and I can’t resist the prospect of pies piled high with apples. For years, I’ve made a rustic pie based on my late mother-in-law’s unwritten recipe. She would roll out enough dough for a double crust pie, lay it in a pie pan and fill it as high as possible with thickly sliced apples. A squirt of lemon, a little sugar, a bit of flour and a dusting of cinnamon were the only additions. Then she would fold the crust up around the pyramid of apples, leaving a small hole at the summit, and bake it.

Firm, tart apples star in this pie. The flaky crust, although terrific, plays a supporting role. So when I spotted a recipe for a crustless apple crumb pie in a copy of Rose Levy Beranbaum’s The Pie and Pastry Bible (Scribner, 1998) that I picked up in a used book store, I was intrigued.

Levy has taken the humble crisp and given it a refined twist, caramelizing the juices, then baking the apples before adding a nutty, not-too-sweet crumb topping during its last 20 minutes in the oven. There’s no flour or cornstarch thickener to interfere with the fruit flavor and less sugar than usual. Increasing the proportion of apples makes it even better.

I’ve modified the recipe slightly by substituting maple syrup for the brown sugar in the apple mixture. I think it introduces a more subtle taste that complements the apples. I like to use the darker Grade B maple syrup for its deeper flavors.

For best results, use a crisp apple that will hold its shape when cooked. Fujis and Newtown Pippins are good choices. But Gala, Braeburn or Honeycrisp apples would also work well. Among the supermarket selections, very fresh Golden Delicious are a sure bet and Granny Smiths are usually reliable, if not inspiring.