Real cider: The new generation of British producers

Enough of your passionfruit, kiwi and lime abominations, says Holly Williams. Cider means apples. And there's a bumper harvest this year

Holly Williams
Monday 13 October 2014 11:09 BST
Comments
Mary Topp has been selling her family's New Forest Cider in Borough Market for the past six years
Mary Topp has been selling her family's New Forest Cider in Borough Market for the past six years (Pal Hansen)

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

It was the first hot day in spring, and the north London pub seemed perfect – bustling but not too busy; a huge, lushly green suntrap garden; and a wide range of beers from which my other half could pick. I've never acquired a taste for hops, and asked instead for a cider. "What flavour would you like?" asked the barman. I scornfully suggested apple, given cider is made of apples. "We've got passionfruit and apple," came the reply. "Or kiwi and lime…" Perfection: dashed.

Cider is made by pressing cider apples and fermenting them into a delicious, complex and often pretty potent drink – the most ancient on these isles. Fruity, sweet versions may be flooding the market – Tesco reports a 45 per cent increase in sales in the past year – but they are not cider: they are alcopops by another name. Hilariously, the Swedish manufacturer Rekorderlig (whose flavours include mango and raspberry "cider") doesn't even mention apples on its website, instead promoting its use of the "purest spring water" in its "brewing" process! This summer saw the introduction of ever- crazier flavours (cloudberry, anyone?), aggressive advertising, naff social-media campaigns and blanket events sponsorship. And if I was grumpy enough on being offered passionfruit cider in a pub, the realisation that the only pint on sale at one London festival was tooth-rotting Kopparberg made me seethe…

Because I like cider to taste of apples: you know, those British fruits currently ripening away in orchards up and down the country. I like it humming with tannins, chewy and strong, cloudy and "a bit goaty" (to use my own not-very-scientific tasting note).

Happily, there are many great British cider-makers busily harvesting their home-grown cider apples – it's set to be an excellent harvest this year – getting the presses going to make a huge variety of ciders, from pungent to floral, using traditional methods. So why aren't we seeing these tasty beverages in all our pubs? Why, when you can buy a real ale or craft beer almost everywhere, does craft cider lag behind?

'Real’ cider has a much higher fruit content than most commercial varieties (which top out at 40 per cent)
'Real’ cider has a much higher fruit content than most commercial varieties (which top out at 40 per cent) (Alamy)

One reason is that cider continues to suffer from an unfortunate image. "There is still a real stigma attached to it. Many people remember drinking nasty cider in a park just to get really drunk and then having a terrible hangover," says Mary Topp. "I like to think it's my job to show them that's not the only cider that exists."

Topp is a brilliant ambassador for the drink – 31 years old, she runs a stall in London's foodie haven Borough Market, selling New Forest Cider from her family's farm, as well as an impressive selection of bottles from other small producers.

New Forest Cider has one foot in the past – made in a traditional fashion, using proper cider apples (quite distinct to the eating or cooking varieties) from the Topps's own orchards – but it is the inner-city platform at Borough that has helped them position the drink as equivalent to the hipster-beloved "craft beer".

The Topps have had the stall since the 1990s; Mary joined the family business six years ago, and the good news is that she has seen a real change in attitude in that time: the public are moving away from the old image of cider as tramp juice. But it's slow progress, she adds – real cider is still a long way from being understood in the same way as a good bottle of wine or craft beer, and still makes up only about 10 per cent of the UK drinks market.

"Growing up with cider on the farm meant I had a passion and interest in it. I guess I took it for granted – but it still baffles me today how many people don't understand the difference between real cider and commercial cider," says Topp, who considers herself not only a champion for real cider, but also for women in the industry. "I want to get rid of this whole image of old, bearded men; it's an enjoyable drink for everybody. [Though] it's definitely men that approach the stand, I am usually able to find something for women – often a bit sweeter or sparkling."

This reflects the wider market – fruit- flavoured offerings are most popular with young women, according to Mintel research. So might big brands be doing the real-cider market a favour, raising a new consciousness about the drink? The real-cider aficionados I speak to are sceptical, but several point to one brand that really was a game-changer: Magners.

While Strongbow – which was and still is the market leader – never makes much of its apple content, when Magners came on the scene in the early Noughties, its marketing reminded people of beautiful orchards, natural fruit… Then came the suggestion that you pour it over ice and suddenly, the contents of a bottle don't fit in a pint glass, so you carry that branded bottle to your table, advertising it to customers coming through the door. They ramped up the price and boom, cider went premium.

"They returned a little bit of soul, and memories of cider as a natural product," says Barny Butterfield, the brilliantly named cider-maker of Sandford Orchards in Devon, who takes time out from this year's unusually early harvest to chat. "Then people like us stepped in – we were already making cider but people were much more ready to try it because the work had been done to make cider cool again. Lots of small makers like us have grown enormously [in the past decade]; during that period, we've grown from having half a member of staff to 10."

Pete Brown, who last year published what was the first proper foodie guide, World's Best Cider, agrees. "As our brands become more globalised, there's a desire to connect with something small, something crafted, something local. When I look at proper cider now, it's kind of where beer was back in about 2000."

Brown sums up the difference between proper ciders and the market-flooding offerings churned out by the lager-producing multinationals. "It's about high-juice content. Crush apples, get the juice out, ferment it – that's how cider is made. You get lovely drinks with a balance of sweetness and acidity, and nice tannins from the apple skins. It's very gluggable, but also has layers and depth. But most commercial varieties contain between 35 and 40 per cent apple juice, and the rest is water, sugar, caramel, flavour, preservatives and so on."

Most larger cider-makers also use imported juice concentrate – so not made with British cider apples at all. They dilute and ferment the syrup as it's needed, making a greater volume of a more uniform, consistent-tasting product, producing reliable yields all year round.

"You get to a point when your volumes simply don't allow you to continue to make it in the traditional way," says Brown. You have to use concentrate "if you want to supply supermarkets. Even quite classy ciders reach that point – do we not grow any more or do we use concentrate?"

It's a dilemma that concerns Butterfield. "I've watched it happen to companies – you can't grow and maintain quality. But there's plenty of terrible cider out there; I don't want to start making it." Sandford cider began in 2003 as a way for Butterfield to earn a bit of cash on the side – he worked for a farmer who let him ferment cider in one of his sheds. Each year, Butterfield sold out, so each year he made more, while sticking to traditional methods (each bottle is proudly labelled "Proper Cider"). Now it's a full-on family business – Butterfield married the farmer's daughter, and his sister returned to Devon to become a cider-maker alongside him.

Butterfield is bullish about what needs to be done to get proper cider behind more bars: we need to ask for it. It's down to drinkers to make their feelings known and request craft ciders in pubs. "When customers say, 'We want it,' and pub chains think they're going to lose market share, that's when things will change. I think we're at the tipping point – we will get to where craft beer is, where most pubs have [a range]. We're going to see good-quality pub groups saying, 'You know what? Just offering a very predictable cider is not good enough.'"

I'll drink to that.

'World's Best Cider' (£25, Jacqui Small) is out now. New Forest Cider hosts its annual cider-making weekend next weekend (newforest cider.co.uk). Sandford Orchard cider can be bought at sandfordorchards.co.uk

The cider harvest typically begins in October, with 200,000 tons of apples picked over 10 weeks (Alamy)

Core cider spots

Southampton Arms, north London

There are several excellent cider pubs in London – including Cider Tap in Euston – but this Kentish Town institution boasts that it is alone in selling only ciders (and beers) from independent British brewers, and nothing else.

The Castle Inn, West Lulworth, Dorset

This picture-book 16th-century thatched pub was crowned cider pub of the year by the Campaign for Real Ale (Camra) this month. It sells an impressive 45 ciders – including a selection by Sandford Orchard and New Forest Cider.

The Lifeboat Ale and Cider House, Margate, Kent

With sawdust on the floor and barrels for tables, this gem of a pub has an olde-worlde feel – and a great array of local ciders, including Merry Moon, Kentish Pip, and the (aptly named) Double Vision.

Cumberland Arms, Ouseburn, Newcastle Upon Tyne

This cosy pub hosts cider festivals as well as committing to a rotating selection on tap. Suppliers include award-winning, best-of-British producers such as Oliver's, Gwynt y Ddraig, and Once Upon a Tree.

The Apple, Bristol

Bristol has plenty of options for cider fans, but this bar-on-a-boat is its most famous. The converted Dutch barge stocks 40 ciders, including its own 8.4 per cent Old Bristolian: sure to give you sea legs… Holly Williams

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in