One sip, and wow. It’s not that all became suddenly right in the world, or that it was the best thing I’d ever tasted, but my first sample of fresh apple cider was exactly as it was supposed to be. It was so itself, simple and straightforward, and yet so much more than that — layers of past and present memories saturated in that apple flavor.
It’s not hard to buy jugs of cider at most grocery stores as apple harvest begins around the States. The cartons will be sporting any variety of labels reading things like all-natural, pasteurized, not from concentrate, fresh-pressed, organic, old fashioned, etc; these are hypothetically informative designations, although some of the terms are highly ambiguous with the goal of enticing you to buy and feel good about the product. But even with the persuasive nature of descriptors and appealing packaging, none have the pretense to claim even coming close to “only seconds old.”
The cider with no label, flowing fresh out of the press and sipped seconds after being made, has no competition from the others, no matter what or how many alluring labels are stamped on them.
This kind of cider is no longer a beverage in a jug; it is an entire experience.
It was this experience that I was delighted to share with my children recently, hoping that even at their young ages, 1 and 4, they would enter into the thrill of the moment’s magic. Rare opportunities like cider-pressing are building blocks of the type of memories that tie bodies and souls to the seasons, and there’s no time like the present to start.
I have a deep appreciation for such memories because my own childhood is layered with them. When I stuck the kids in the Can-Am with a tub of little golden apples hoisted in the back and motored down the dirt road to the neighbors’, it wasn’t because I desperately wanted some apple cider. Again, you can buy the stuff pretty easily, and let’s be honest, some of those quality brands technically taste better than what we made. It wasn’t because we had a couple hours with nothing else to do that Saturday morning, and it wasn’t because I couldn’t think of anything else to do with the apples.
It was because somewhere, deep in a spot of hazy aromas and tastes, I remembered being a kid and taking apples from our orchard over to the neighbor to press some cider. And I don’t just remember it, I feel it. Different state, different apples, different kind of press, but the same kind of crystallizing moment on taking that first sip.
My kids definitely didn’t stick to the first sip, so they should have memories of their second, third, fourth, and so forth — I could not have hoped for a more excited response from them. In fact, I might have hoped for a slightly less enthusiastic response; I’m just glad they left a little for us to take home.
The actual flavor of the cider was mild, tinged with backnotes of wood and rust from the salvaged 150-year-old press. Benson intently poured apples into the metal hopper, watching them be crushed by the hard-to-turn hand crank mill before falling into the cloth bags in barrel hoops below. The neighbors helped him use the crowbar to presssss the apples, and the tantalizing drip of the cider into the bowls below was almost more than he could bear.
We got about three quarts of fresh-pressed cider that morning, of which we’ll enjoy every sip. But we left with so much more than that.
Spicy Cider Sipper
I typically enjoy looking for different ways to utilize cider, like in pan sauces, stews, and cakes, but when the cider is really fresh, you just drink it. It’s a little warm yet to go for the traditional hot spiced apple cider, so a cold spicy cider was calling my name. You get all the flavor of the apple, plus some extras. Of course a good “regular” cider will work great, and make sure to use non-alcoholic ginger beer if you’re giving the kids glasses, too!
Prep tips: I only let our jalapeños steep for a couple minutes, and the cider picked up the kick, so be aware of your peppers/heat tolerance.
• 1 ½ cups apple cider, cold
• juice of 1 lime
• a couple slices of jalapeño
• 1 (12-oz) can ginger beer/ginger ale, cold
• 1 small apple, sliced thinly
Combine cider, lime juice, and jalapeño; let set a few minutes. Put ice in two glasses, pour half the cider mixture into each, and top with ginger beer and apple slices.
Lettuce Eat Local is a weekly local foods column by Amanda Miller, who lives on the family dairy farm with her husband and two small children. She seeks to help build connections through food with her community, the earth, and the God who created it all. Contact her at hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.
