Mastering the Cider House Rules

The first thing I do in my Cider Academy (yes, academy) course at the Orchard Centre in Gloucestershire is mill piles of ripe cider apples – Kingston Black and Dabinett – in a machine that bears a striking resemblance to a medieval torture device. It seems appropriate to the setting. This is a part of England that appears untouched by passing time, that’s still a green and pleasant land marked by rolling hills and pastoral charm. The innocent-sounding West Country burr is on everyone’s friendly lips, including Peter Mitchell, who runs the course and is a long-time teacher and advisor to the burgeoning cider industry in the U.K. and North America.

What comes out of the mill is an apple-y pulp, which is then hand-pressed through cheesecloth to wring out every ounce of precious nectar. Mitchell leads me to the lab, where we test the composition of the juice. Using equipment I vaguely remember from school science lessons, I check the gravity of the liquid to assess its estimated alcoholic content: a whopping 11 percent. We calculate the acidity, and after some blending with different apple juices, it’s time for lunch and, best of all, a tasting.

There is an infinite variety of cider. Some is bubbly, some flat, some tongue-shrinkingly dry, some sweet. Mitchell and I sniff, swill and swallow. I learn that “cidery” is a perfectly acceptable aroma descriptor (it means apple-y and zingy, pretty much), but “hay barn” seems more applicable for some varieties, which taste of farmyard and orchard, earth and life. Cider pairs perfectly with cheeses, but a light perry (the pear equivalent of cider) is great with fish and salad. The more earthy ciders are best with meat stews.

As we admire one of many pear saplings planted by the Orchard Centre, Mitchell explains how apples were first cultivated in central Asia around 6,500 BC and across Europe soon after, and “where there’s apples, there’s cider,” he says. By the 17th century, cider and perry became as highly valued in England as champagne in France. “Cider was also safer than water,” Mitchell says, since sewage systems were lacking in those days. “It was drunk by the whole family.”

Replete and rosy-cheeked (there’s no spitting out where cider tastings are concerned), I feel the call of my own brew. Back in the lab, I add a strain of yeast and yeast nutrients, and that’s pretty much it. As I write, the satisfying blub, blub, blub from the demijohn is within earshot. In a couple of weeks, fermentation will have finished, and about six months of maturation will begin. By summer, I will have my first homemade batch of cider to enjoy. What it will taste like is anyone’s guess, but I assure you, it will be drunk.

CORE TRAINING
Cider courses around the globe

British Columbia
After breakfast in the Ciderhouse, learn the tricks of the organic apple trade and which cider varieties to pair with cheese or chutney before making your own signature blend to take home.  

Sea Cider Farm & Ciderhouse 2487 Mt. St. Michael Rd., Saanichton, 250-544-4824, seacider.ca

France
A guided tour of a Normandy cidery takes you through generations of cider- and Calvados-making in the Pays d’Auge. Chef Philippe Harfaux continues your education with a three-course dinner and lesson on cooking with cider.  

Château Les Bruyères Route du Cadran, Cambremer, 33-2-3132-2245, chateaulesbruyeres.com

Spain
Tailor your own experience by visiting the Museo de la Sidra in Nava; then reward yourself by cider-pub-hopping in the cider-centric Asturias region.

Museo de la Sidra Plaza Príncipe de Asturias s/n, Nava, 34-9-85-717-422, museodelasidra.com

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