It’s been a long saga, filled with disappointment and squinched up faces. Cider, as the English know it — hard cider, as we Americans might know it — it seemed like it would be so simple to find, and to love. I was going to learn all about local ciders and archly offer up tidbits of apple-y knowledge to friends along with a bottle opener and a nice cheese. Then I tasted real cider for the first time. And the second. And so on. It was dreadful.
I’d given up on anything but mulled cider, pretty much, by the time our new Whole Foods opened. It’s been great to find some food treasures from home at WF, and, also, to be introduced to new local treats that have become favorites. One of those new favorites:
It’s exactly what I thought hard cider would taste like, before I actually tasted it (in other brands) and cried from foulness and sorrow. True to my sweet roots, I do prefer the Perry, but I genuinely like all the cider varieties produced by the traditional hand-crafters at Severn Cider. (I’m fond of the artwork on the labels as well, thanks to local artist Steve Hyslop.) What a pleasure.
I wish I could know what I would have thought of this cider when I started my search-for-cider journey. Would my palate have been ready for the taste? Would I have liked it then, and sought no more? Or would I have found it as strange and off-putting as the other ciders I tried, early on in this experiment? I’ll never know, and I doubt it matters. My cupboards are stocked, and finally my heart is happy with English cider.