The Cider Diaries-10/2/09

I mentioned very early on in this blog that I am not the worlds biggest drinker and expressed my concern that this might hold us back at some point. That point might've been today.

We had planned a day out in Bristol or more specifically a day out in The Apple, a pub on a barge that specialises in cider. As well as me and Fog my friend Fizzy D and my friend Kyle came along for the day. On the train down the discussion of cider got well underway. We talked about buying homebrew from farmers. D's friend Tom once bought some home brew that turned green after a few days while Kyle once bought three gallons of cider from a farmer that slowely turned into something akin to wine vinegar.

Fog mentioned his idea for a beer net in passing and the other two looked at us blankly. We had to explain that it was an idea for keeping the ice down in a pint of cider so that the ice cubes don't clink against your teeth or get in the way of drinking. This led to a long discussion of different ways of dealing with ice in pints, including a suggestion of magnetic ice cubes in glasses with a metal bottom.

Kyle suggested making ice cubes out of something that was solid at room temperature so that they wouldn't melt but as I pointed out to him, that would only keep your drink at room temperature, something you could do just as easily by simply leaving your drink in a room.

So then Kyle suggested liquid hydrogen, telling us that you would only have to put a bit in to chill your pint and then it would evaporate into the air leaving you without any ice cubes to worry about. Our objections to this ranged from damaged glasses to potential death but it was an idea that Kyle would return to with some tenacity all day.

Our plan was a simple one. Arrive in Bristol, find The Apple, sit there all day drinking cider with a break in the afternoon to check out local off licences, eat cider related meals from their food menu and then catch the last train home again. We found The Apple easily enough but that's about as far as we got following our original plan.

We had checked in advance on The Apple's own website, http://www.applecider.co.uk/ to find that thir opening hours were from 12pm daily but when we arrived at about 12.30, ready to crack on with the first cider of the day(having already sensibly passed up the opportunity or a Strongbow from the train's buffet cart) we were met by a locked gate and a sign that told us The Apple would be open at 5pm.

As we read and re-read the sign in consternation a long haired, wild eyed, bent, brownskinned old man emerged from the bowels of the barge. He threw a bucket of something(possibly spilled cider or dirty water from the mop bucket but just as possibly, I felt, the morning after contents of a chemical toilet) overboard and went back down below. He didn't look especially pleased to find curious visitors at his gates. I wondered if we would be trying to befriend him at the bar later.

Anyway, with four and a half hours to kill there was one obvious course of action. We decided to find another pub. Luckily there were several pubs and bars within very easy walking distance and we decided to head inside a pleasantly dingy, independent looking place called Old Dukes, after Duke Ellington. With a bar like The Apple on your doorstep I suppose you can go on of two ways. You can give up and serve nothing but beers and strongbow or you can accept the challenge, step up to the plate and do your best to serve some quality/unusual ciders of your own.

Luckily, or so I thought at the time, Old Dukes had gone the latter route, with four or five ciders we hadn't tried elsewhere. The first of these was called,

57. Thatcher's Chedder Valley Traditional Cider
I asked for a half and Fog bought me a pint. I didn't mind, I was quite looking forward to this one. Thatchers had consistently provided us with delicious ciders and I had no reason to believe that this would be any different. It was flat but no matter. Had I not confidently managed and even enjoyed a pint of Old Rosie just the night before? More interestingly it was orange, bright orange, like Fanta or cheesy wotsits. It looked more Red Leicester than Chedder.

But it isn't the colour of a cider that matters, it's the flavour. This is where Chedder Valley let us down badly. It was horrible. It is hard to describe the flavour. It wasn't sharp or sour or dry. If anything it was bland in a way that was actively offensive. The consistency was wrong as well. It was too thick, almost soupy, or so it seemed. There were many complaints at the table as we sat and tried to drink the stuff although it would be fair to say that most of them were coming from me.

Fog started out saying it'd get better after a bit, it would just take a few swigs to get into it. He soon had to admit that it didn't get any better. The others had finished their pints and although I still had loads left it was my round so I headed gratefully for the bar to buy four bottles.


58. Thatcher's Pear Cider
The Thatchers pear cider was a return to the qualities we'd come to expect from Thatchers ciders, delicious and refreshing. Unfortunately Fog was insisting that I needed to finish the Chedder Valley sludge so I was alternating one with the other as the boys enjoyed their pear ciders. Fog said it was quite sweet but nicer because it was a change from what came before.


After a while I appealled for leniancy. "Have I had enough yet? That's pretty much just dregs now." Fog was having none of it.
"C'mon Chris, man up, that's still nearly half a pint." After an interminable amount of time I eventually finished my pint and washed it down with the rest of the pear cider. Glad it was over, I insisted on a half of the next cider.


59 Thatcher's Traditional cider
Unfortunately, apart from being a shade lighter(more orange squash than fanta) this new cider was very similar to the Chedder Valley stuff I was so glad to put behind me. Again, it was horrible. It was all I could do to sip at it. It was beginning to make me gag. The others were doing better and taking no small amount of pleasure at my discomfort but they could hardly claim to enjoy the stuff either. Kyle wondered out loud why he was bothering with the stuff, pointing out that as it was only me and Fog doing the challenge he and Dave were free to drink what they liked. He had a point but I was glad the pair of them had been swept up in the spirit of the challenge.

Kyle had to leave at this point anyway to meet his mum for lunch. While Fog's back was turned I tried to pour some of my drink into Kyle's vacated glass but Fog noticed and poured it back again. I didn't know how I was going to finish this horrible stuff.



Eventually Fog went off to the toilet, leaving me and Dave with part-filled glasses. When Fog returned both glasses were empty. Looking back now, I don't remember very clearly what had happened but between me and Dave the drinks were all gone. It was time to move on.


Fog's friend James had turned up while we were drinking. He was on a lunch break from work and didn't come into Old Dukes but Fog went outside to say hi and James told us that the best place to look for off-licences was back toward the station. So, having finished our ciders that's exactly where Fog, Fizzy D and I headed. Unfortunately we couldn't find any off-licences. I was beginning to doubt that James new what he was talking about.


"James has proved me wrong too many times," Fog told us. "If we give up now he'll drag us out of the pub later and take us right to an off licence right where he told us." I was all for giving up when, sure enough, we rounded a corner and found a quite classy looking off-licence which specialised in various wines but also had a chilled room at the back which had a variety of interesting new ciders. We had to try and restrain ourselves from buying them all but limited funds prevailed. We did buy a choice selection take home and try again some time. Fizzy D also bought himself an attractive looking bottle of French cider.



It was finally time to return to the by-now-open Apple. From the outside the place looked a little rickety but we headed down inside the barge and down there the place actually looks pretty classy. I was expecting such a specialist bar to have something of an old-man-pub vibe to it, full of cider connoisseurs with beards and arran sweaters. The straggle haired old man we had seen earlier in the day had only reinforced this idea in my head.



However, when we got inside it was nothing like that at all, it was quite classy looking with a friendly, young barman and a load of great reggae playing in the background. I sensed that I would feel at home here. I had hoped that they might have some sort of gift shop with bookmarks and pencil sharpeners etc, so that we might pick up a souvenir of some decsription. But The Apple is a quality drinking establishment, not some tawdry tourist trap and they have no time for such cheap fripperies. Luckily however, they do sell t-shirts and hoodies.


We couldn't miss the opportunity to buy some specialist cider drinking clothing so Fog bought himself a brown t-shirt and I got a green hoodie. Fizzy D abstained, perhaps preferring to save his money for the drink itself. Then the barman allowed us to pose behind the bar and have our pictures taken pretending to pour pints, Fizzy D acting as official photographer for the afternoon. All of which was fun but it was a distraction from the main event. We were here to drink and I had already spotted two ciders I wanted to try. One of which shared a name with my mum.


60. Janet's Jungle Juice
Still feeling a bit funny from the earlier ciders I was sticking resolutely to half pints. The others mocked me, Fog going so far as to get absent, mutual friends to send me abusive texts, but I knew my capacity for drink wasn't the best and I didn't want to end up having to ruin the evening by crying off at 6.30 or something ridiculous.

A shame really because under normal circumstances I would've very much welcomed a full pint of Janet's Jungle Juice. It was a silly name but a fine cider, very much the sort of thing I was hoping The Apple would provide. It was rich, full flavoured and weighty. You could taste its strength but it wasn't overpowering. Kyle soon returned and he and Fizzy D continued to match me and Fog in our choices.

James, work over, joined us in The Apple and I was appalled when he arrived at the table with a pint of Chedder Valley, a drink he was apparently familiar with and had chosen to drink again of his own free will! The others took cautious sips from James' glass and each assured me in turn that it was nicer here, that The Apple must keep its pipes in better order. Good for The Apple but I decided to refrain from finding out for myself. It wasn't a tough decision. The sight of it on the table was enough to make my stomach turn over.

61. Rich's Medium Cider
Fog, Richard Fogharty to his employers, was delighted to find a cider with his name in it but cider number 61(Pints for Fog, Kyle and D, another half for me) was on the sweet side of medium, almost syrupy in fact. I thought it might just be me and my churning insides but Fog agreed it was very sweet indeed.

By now I was feeling a bit funny. It was time to get some sort of food inside ourselves, I was convinced of that. The Apple's website had led us to believe that a number off booze based dishes would be available, including shoulder of pork in cider sauce. Fog seemed to thing these would be cooked on site and of fairly decent quality so that they shoudn't be a problem for him and his gluten free diet. Unfortunately, the menu outside seemed to suggest that these meals only came encased in gluten heavy pastry under the guise of the 'Bristolian Pasty'. A quick enquiry revealed to us that even these were off the menu tonight as, 'No one prepared any today.'

Nevermind, perhaps a break from cider would do me could, settle my stomach. I figured we could head somewhere to eat, get some fresh air on the way, enjoy some food and maybe a soft drink and I'd be all set to carry on drinking back at the apple. We decided to go to the Brewer's Fair just down the road, opposite Old Dukes. It was recommended to us by the barman at The Apple and had the added advantage of being very, very close. What I hadn't counted on was that they would actually stock a new cider of their own.

62. Aspell's Peronelle's Blush Suffolk Cyder
It was against my better judgement to have another cider with dinner but I could hardly turn it down now we had unexpectedly found it. Besides, I thought this would be a good one. It came in the distinctively shaped Aspell bottles and was flavoured with a small amount of blackberry liquer.

Fog has traditionally been against fruity ciders and this wasn't much to his tastes either but he had to admit that it wasn't artificial tasting or too sweet. On the contrary, the authentic taste of blackberries gave this cider a slightly sour kick. I really liked it, although I found it a bit rich along with my fish and chips.

Over dinner we returned to the subject of liquid nitrogen, Kyle still convinced it could be used to chill pints of cider. James disagreed and, what was more, thought his girlfriend could give a decisive verdict one way or the other. I don't know her credentials but i do know he reffered to her as 'Science Girl' and she was apparently out at a swanky dinner with other scientists. After a couple of back and forth texts she informed us liquid nitrogen would freeze the pint instantly. Kyle remained convinced that it was just a question of getting the quantity right.

I was starting to feel dizzy so I took myself upstairs to the toilet. I sat for sometime in the cubical, wanting to sleep and knowing I couldn't. I don't really know why I felt so funny but I knew where it was leading. In the end I secumbed to the inevitable. I got up, leaned over the toilet bowl and threw up.

I have known several people who, on a night out, will go off to the toilets, throw up and then happily carry on drinking. I am not one of them. If I am sick, and it happens only rarely, that's it for me, I'm off home to bed. I very much felt like taking that option now. But I knew it wasn't an option. There were people downstairs waiting to drink cider and Fog in particular would be let down if I didn't keep on drinking. I cleaned up the toilet and then washed my face, rinsing my mouth out thoroughly. Then I headed down stairs to find the others, minus James who had gone for his bus, waiting for me. I walked to the table, took a last, decisive swig of Aspell's Blush and said, "Right, on to The Apple?" I very much doubt that this contrived performance looked half as composed or confident as I had intended.

63. Premium Black Rat Dry Cider
It was time to prioritize. We had seen this cider advertised on The Apple's website and were keen to add it to our list. It was this cider in particular that I had used to tempt Kyle along on our trip. He and my housemates Matt and Patch used to drink it back home in Frome before coming to Cardiff and always talk about it in glowing terms. It was famed for it's strength. One pub offered £1000 for anyone who could manage ten pints without falling over or being sick. For a brief time last year they had even served it in our local at the time, The Claude where I tried a pint myself.

I'd never seen it served in bottles before and I was suprised by the 4.7% volume the website claimed but we ordered four bottles anyway. It was immediately apparent that the 'Black Rat' presented to us was different to the 'Black Rat' we were hoping for. The Black Rat in The Claude had been still and cloudy, this was clear and sparkling. It tasted like Strongbow only slightly drier. It wasn't unpleasant, only slightly dissapointing.

Time was running out. There wasn't long left before we had to leave to catch the last train. At this point me and Fog had a bit of a disagreement. Fog really wanted to try some 8.3% cider that they only sold in half pints, claiming not to feel drunk enough for a day's drinking. Despite, or perhaps because of, being sick I didn't feel especially drunk myself but on the other hand I felt I was doing pretty well to still be drinking at all. I offered as a compromise to have a bottle of a new different cider but Fog wouldn't budge. I could see it from his point of view but I was already feeling bad enough, like I had let the side down. This argument was only making me feel guiltier. In the end Fog tried the 8.3% cider alone, so it didn't count towards the challenge, while I continued to nurse my bottle of Black Rat.

After that we had to head back to catch the train. Once on board Fizzy D couldn't resist cracking open his bottle of cider from the off-licence. Fog and I had to save ours but D seemed to be enjoying himself. By the time we arrived back in Cardiff I found myself in the mood for a take away. All in all, it hadn't been a bad day.