Comment

CIDER is back in fashion. At least that's what they are saying in the newspapers and certainly adverts on television show glamorous young things drinking the stuff.

I too decided to get in on the act by transforming my surplus apples into cider. Not the fizzy stuff off supermarket shelves, or marketing men, of dulcet Irish tones and arrows narrowly avoiding drinkers in bars. No, this was going to be traditional flat cider, an honest drink of unsullied apples, minimal in style but with plenty of heart. What it was going to taste like was largely left up to the Almighty.

Making cider has huge attractions. For a start even I (one of those people often charitably labelled "enthusiastic" rather than, say, capable) was able to make a really quite drinkable cider at my first attempt. Remarkably this was not cider that my family and friends drunk only to humour me (like the son-in-law's sprout wine in The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin) it was genuinely enjoyable. This is just one reason why making cider can be such a great pleasure. Besides it is a communal activity, fulfilling and, of course, environmentally friendly.

My last experience of cider had been unforgettable for all the wrong reasons. Twenty-odd years ago, as an awkward 14-year-old away at school, downing sickly sweet cans of fizzy cider with equally green friends. The horrible taste was made worse by toothpaste and raw garlic which had been eaten to disguise the smell of alcohol. Such deception soon became surplus to requirements as I deteriorated into a dribbling wreck, carried along between two marginally less inebriated friends. Cider was finished as far as I was concerned.

Two decades later the first thing to strike one about making cider is that you need many, many apples. They can be pretty much any variety and bruised or not, just lots and lots. I supplemented my supply by pestering neighbours into letting me take their windfall apples - almost all of which otherwise would have gone to waste. The other ingredients - yeast and sugar - are a bit more optional. While most cider makers add yeast (wine growers' yeast to be precise) poor organisation meant that I had to rely on the natural yeast already present on the skins to turn the sugar in the apples into alcohol. Sugar may be required if initial tastings suggest a cider on the sharp side or if you are taken by a particularly alcoholic tipple.

The apparatus required is slightly more complicated. Three essential items are needed: the scratter, the press and containers in which the juice can ferment. All of these items could be improvised by someone with some aptitude for DIY. Knowing my limitations I followed an easier, if more expensive route, of buying apparatus specifically made for the task. Purchased presses and scratters, while not cheap, will, if properly maintained, last hundreds of years and can be bought in a range of sizes to suit hardened cider makers through to small novice producers like myself.

The last but certainly not least requirement is for labour. Traditional cider making is labour intensive but extremely satisfying and a lot of fun. I was helped in this all-day process by a couple of friends of mine.

The scratter is a wonderful contraption reminiscent of some kind of Medieval instrument of torture into which fallen souls will be placed on the Day of Judgement. The role of the scratter is to break up the apples as their natural shape makes them almost impossible to crush. Once the apples were washed in water to remove dirt, they were cut in half and the bad or worm-eaten bits discarded. The scratter consists of a hopper and two spiked rollers in the bottom of the hopper which, when turned, steadily break the apples into a juicy pulp. It is into the scratter that the halved apples were put.

The more familiar press came next. Our press has a cast iron base, wooden slats at the side and a wooden top. Into the press went juicy apple pulp. As the wooden top was gradually screwed down the juice was squeezed out. If all is going to plan someone is at this stage holding a sieve over a funnel above the container into which the apple juice flows. The apple that is left in the press is traditionally given to pigs. Not owning any porkers ours went on the compost heap.

These tasks of washing and preparing the apples, working them through the scratter and press are all labour intensive, though a lot of fun too. It took many press loads even to make the thirty litres or so of apple juice that we made.

While some of the apple juice was consumed at this stage the bulk was transferred into the two large plastic fermenters. In essence these are just large plastic barrels each holding several gallons. The juice that was to go to make cider filled up each container. Yeast can be added at this stage to speed up the fermentation process. The containers are then sealed up save for a fermentation tube which fits into the bung at the top of each container. This fermentation tube is rather like an s-bend on a lavatory. A little water is poured into it and the shape of the s allows the gases produced in fermentation to escape but at the same time prevents the outside air to get in. It is crucial that air does not get into the container as this will cause the cider to spoil.

The heavy work was now complete. All that was left was for the barrels to be left well alone in a cool dry place. After a few days it was very exciting to see that fermentation had begun as bubbles slowing trickled up through the fermenting tube. Some six or so weeks later this first fermentation had finished and we were able to rack off the cider into a clean container leaving behind the sediment in the first container. Sugar can be added at this stage so adding renewed vigour to the fermentation process.

Some months later the big day had arrived. The dark apple juice created in October had been transformed into a golden liquid. While I won't pretend that our cider is about to win any awards (or that I'm going to pack in the day job any time soon) we had made a nice drinkable cider full of the taste of apples. It was also surprisingly punchy. Still, having learnt my lesson with cider as a schoolboy, I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

Print

Email this

Comment

Add your comment

Name:
Email: *
Location:
**
	e.g. 123-123
Comment: Please note: All HTML tags will be ignored. Format Text:
By posting a comment, I confirm that I have read and agree to the terms of use. Comments are not moderated but we will react if anything that breaks the rules comes to our attention and we may delete inappropriate postings. Please treat other people with respect. You must not post anything that is abusive, indecent, unlawful or defamatory. Remember, you are personally liable for what you post on this site. If you wish to complain about a comment, contact us here.
* Your email address will not be displayed ** To avoid register now or login