The Cider Diaries-4/1/09
I was pretty cheerful last night, writing The Cider Diaries at Fog's house. I was enjoying cider and chat with friends and I was sat on a comfortable sofa. Nevertheless, Fog had done something, or rather neglected to do something, that annoyed me a little. You see, when he said he was inviting people round for a few drinks at his place I figured he'd have at least one new cider ready and waiting for us to try. This assumption was based not only on my own appetite for the task ahead but on the knowledge that there is a corner shop selling ciders we have yet to try about thirty seconds from Fog's front door.
However, when I arrived I was informed that Fog hadn't bothered with any new ciders because, "We've still got cans of strongbow in the fridge." That may well be the case but Strongbow will keep. Drinking the Strongbow isn't going to do us any favours in the challenge. He can drink up the Strongbow when I'm not around. As it was, we only tried one new cider last night, the one I brought with me, when I was hoping for two or three.
So, this morning I decided I needed to punish Fog by making him drink something unpleasant. Unfortunately, the very nature of this challenge means that if Fog is drinking an unpleasant cider then so am I. I would live to regret my vindictiveness....
White cider. Those two words alone are enough to provoke a rush of nostalgia in anyone who lived their teenage years in Britain. If you weren't swigging it in parks with your mates you knew people who were. Personally, I preferred an illicit mixture of stolen spirits from the drinks cabinet, mixed with blackcurrent cordial, to disguise the drink in case the police show up but also to disguise the flavour.
White cider is not a drink that people drink because they enjoy it. They drink it to get pissed. Back when I worked part time in an off licence I regularly sold the stuff to local tramps and alcoholics and refused to sell it to underage kids. I once made the observation that no one who owns their own home drinks white cider and I'd hate to prove that observation wrong now. Luckily both me and Fog are only renting so it's fine.
I was up early in plenty of time for my midday hospital radio show so I decided to go to the Co-op across the road and pick some white cider up ready to suprise Fog with it. It was only when I'd picked up the traditional blue plastic bottle and started to head for the tills that I considered how I must look. It had just gone 11am and I was buying a bottle of white and nothing else. I tried to tell myself that it didn't look too bad. After all, I was freshly showered, clean shaven and well turned turned out, hardly the look of the hardened alcoholic. However, as I approached the tills my worst suspicions were confirmed. The attractive, friendly girl on the tills was smiling at me but when she saw what I was buying the smile just fell from her face.
Fog wasn't happy to see the white cider. On our way to the radio show we discussed whether we should drink another cider first to warm ourselves up or go for the white cider first and then treat ourselves to something more pleasant as a sort of dessert cider. Fog was keen that we should "get it out of the way". In any case when we got back to his flat after the radio show he wouldn't go and buy anymore until after some rugby game or other so that was our decision made.
9. White Star
As I opened the bottle of White Star I caught a whiff of the noxious liquid within and immediately realised my mistake. I poured it out into glasses and looked at it dubiously. I was beginning to suspect that this would be fairly painful and what I was putting myself through was not worth the reward of seeing Fog also drinking the stuff. Fog, to his credit, started swigging quite manfully from his pint glass. I guessed correctly that once I had tried the stuff I would be restricting myself to gingerly sipping.
I raised it to my lips and tasted. I thought, "This isn't that bad...Oh no wait, yes it is." The stuff was strong and sour with a harsh aftertaste. I wanted to spit after every mouthful. I don't know how the alcoholics do it. Once you're swigging this stuff regularly can it really be too much of a leap, or a plunge as Geraint puts it, to find yourself downing bottles of aftershave?
I asked Fog for his opinion and after a protracted bout of sarcasm he began espousing his opinions on white cider generally. "Diamond White is very much the high end of white ciders. This is much worse". He wants me to make it clear that he isn't an expert and doesn't drink white cider regularly but nonetheless he is adamant that, "Diamond White is very much the cream of the crop". I asked him to guess the percentage and he went for 7.3%. Not far off, it's 7.5%.
I really struggled to drink this cider. To the point where I was argueing with Fog over whether I had to finish it or not. When I was a student drinking games, the desire to get pissed and peer pressure saw me drinking any number of unpleasant drinks but since finishing university I've become accustomed to drinking only what I fancy. I'm not used to drinking things this unpleasant any more. Eventually Fog left for the corner shop and I tried to drink as much as I could as quickly as I could, fuelled by the incentive of another, nicer cider on its way. Fog returned with not one new cider but two...
10. Merrydown Vintage Dry Cider
I was dubious about having another 7.5% cider in the middle of the afternoon straight after the White Star. I was expecting a couple of nice pints in front of the telly not an all day heavy drinking session. Still, Fog seemed to have no such qualms and as it was the stronger of the two Fog had bought I figured best get it out of the way.
After taking a first sip Fog complained that there was a residue of White Star in his glass, affecting the flavour. It may've been purely psychological but after he said that it was all I could taste. The tang of white cider, tainting my nice glass of merrydown. After a while I gave up and began swigging straight from the glass bottle. Much better.
Merrydown tastes a bit strong for my liking and it isn't something I would drink regularly but certainly it was a vaste improvement on what came before. Fog quite likes it, finding it dry but not overly so.
11. Keane's
I started making positive noises about this cider after tasting it much to Fog's suprise. "I thought it was quite tangy and not in a good way." He qualified, "That might be because it's not nearly as dry as the Merrydown's. Ask me again when I've had a bit more." My own positivity might have something to do with the fact this cider is following hot on the heels of two much stronger ciders, rendering this one mildy pleasant if only by comparison. We carried on discussing other things until suddenly from nowhere Fog said, "It's alright isn't it this Keane's?" I was inclined to agree.
Emma is planning on buying a blender to make mojitos for a proposed cocktail party. I told Fog, "If that goes ahead, we can't drink any cocktails. We have to have new ciders."
"What? That's a bit harsh?"
"Yeah...well I might change my mind by the time it happens, I actually quite like cocktails..." Clear, decisive thinkning. The key indicator of a cider drinker. Last night after we finished drinking at Fog's he went on to another bar. He has just shown me some photographs to prove he was drinking more Western's Premium organic Cider. Nice.
However, when I arrived I was informed that Fog hadn't bothered with any new ciders because, "We've still got cans of strongbow in the fridge." That may well be the case but Strongbow will keep. Drinking the Strongbow isn't going to do us any favours in the challenge. He can drink up the Strongbow when I'm not around. As it was, we only tried one new cider last night, the one I brought with me, when I was hoping for two or three.
So, this morning I decided I needed to punish Fog by making him drink something unpleasant. Unfortunately, the very nature of this challenge means that if Fog is drinking an unpleasant cider then so am I. I would live to regret my vindictiveness....
White cider. Those two words alone are enough to provoke a rush of nostalgia in anyone who lived their teenage years in Britain. If you weren't swigging it in parks with your mates you knew people who were. Personally, I preferred an illicit mixture of stolen spirits from the drinks cabinet, mixed with blackcurrent cordial, to disguise the drink in case the police show up but also to disguise the flavour.
White cider is not a drink that people drink because they enjoy it. They drink it to get pissed. Back when I worked part time in an off licence I regularly sold the stuff to local tramps and alcoholics and refused to sell it to underage kids. I once made the observation that no one who owns their own home drinks white cider and I'd hate to prove that observation wrong now. Luckily both me and Fog are only renting so it's fine.
I was up early in plenty of time for my midday hospital radio show so I decided to go to the Co-op across the road and pick some white cider up ready to suprise Fog with it. It was only when I'd picked up the traditional blue plastic bottle and started to head for the tills that I considered how I must look. It had just gone 11am and I was buying a bottle of white and nothing else. I tried to tell myself that it didn't look too bad. After all, I was freshly showered, clean shaven and well turned turned out, hardly the look of the hardened alcoholic. However, as I approached the tills my worst suspicions were confirmed. The attractive, friendly girl on the tills was smiling at me but when she saw what I was buying the smile just fell from her face.
Fog wasn't happy to see the white cider. On our way to the radio show we discussed whether we should drink another cider first to warm ourselves up or go for the white cider first and then treat ourselves to something more pleasant as a sort of dessert cider. Fog was keen that we should "get it out of the way". In any case when we got back to his flat after the radio show he wouldn't go and buy anymore until after some rugby game or other so that was our decision made.
9. White Star
As I opened the bottle of White Star I caught a whiff of the noxious liquid within and immediately realised my mistake. I poured it out into glasses and looked at it dubiously. I was beginning to suspect that this would be fairly painful and what I was putting myself through was not worth the reward of seeing Fog also drinking the stuff. Fog, to his credit, started swigging quite manfully from his pint glass. I guessed correctly that once I had tried the stuff I would be restricting myself to gingerly sipping.
I raised it to my lips and tasted. I thought, "This isn't that bad...Oh no wait, yes it is." The stuff was strong and sour with a harsh aftertaste. I wanted to spit after every mouthful. I don't know how the alcoholics do it. Once you're swigging this stuff regularly can it really be too much of a leap, or a plunge as Geraint puts it, to find yourself downing bottles of aftershave?
I asked Fog for his opinion and after a protracted bout of sarcasm he began espousing his opinions on white cider generally. "Diamond White is very much the high end of white ciders. This is much worse". He wants me to make it clear that he isn't an expert and doesn't drink white cider regularly but nonetheless he is adamant that, "Diamond White is very much the cream of the crop". I asked him to guess the percentage and he went for 7.3%. Not far off, it's 7.5%.
I really struggled to drink this cider. To the point where I was argueing with Fog over whether I had to finish it or not. When I was a student drinking games, the desire to get pissed and peer pressure saw me drinking any number of unpleasant drinks but since finishing university I've become accustomed to drinking only what I fancy. I'm not used to drinking things this unpleasant any more. Eventually Fog left for the corner shop and I tried to drink as much as I could as quickly as I could, fuelled by the incentive of another, nicer cider on its way. Fog returned with not one new cider but two...
10. Merrydown Vintage Dry Cider
I was dubious about having another 7.5% cider in the middle of the afternoon straight after the White Star. I was expecting a couple of nice pints in front of the telly not an all day heavy drinking session. Still, Fog seemed to have no such qualms and as it was the stronger of the two Fog had bought I figured best get it out of the way.
After taking a first sip Fog complained that there was a residue of White Star in his glass, affecting the flavour. It may've been purely psychological but after he said that it was all I could taste. The tang of white cider, tainting my nice glass of merrydown. After a while I gave up and began swigging straight from the glass bottle. Much better.
Merrydown tastes a bit strong for my liking and it isn't something I would drink regularly but certainly it was a vaste improvement on what came before. Fog quite likes it, finding it dry but not overly so.
11. Keane's
I started making positive noises about this cider after tasting it much to Fog's suprise. "I thought it was quite tangy and not in a good way." He qualified, "That might be because it's not nearly as dry as the Merrydown's. Ask me again when I've had a bit more." My own positivity might have something to do with the fact this cider is following hot on the heels of two much stronger ciders, rendering this one mildy pleasant if only by comparison. We carried on discussing other things until suddenly from nowhere Fog said, "It's alright isn't it this Keane's?" I was inclined to agree.
Emma is planning on buying a blender to make mojitos for a proposed cocktail party. I told Fog, "If that goes ahead, we can't drink any cocktails. We have to have new ciders."
"What? That's a bit harsh?"
"Yeah...well I might change my mind by the time it happens, I actually quite like cocktails..." Clear, decisive thinkning. The key indicator of a cider drinker. Last night after we finished drinking at Fog's he went on to another bar. He has just shown me some photographs to prove he was drinking more Western's Premium organic Cider. Nice.
posted by Chris Chopping @ 7:24 AM
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