You might wonder why I'd go through such effort when cider is readily available at the grocery store? Allow me to take you back to my childhood...
Every fall, after the first frost, my dad would take me out to a farm not too far from where we lived. Two brothers ran the small family farm, and had an old wooden stand where folks could stop and buy farm-fresh produce and, only in the fall, fresh-pressed apple cider. When I was a child, the brothers seemed so...old. If I had to guess, they were probably in their late 60s or early 70s at the time. I imagined they'd lived on the farm forever, and it must have been just like the one my daddy grew up on. As a child, I understood the cider was pressed from fallen apples. This could mean there were worms or spots starting to go bad. It never bothered me, though—I just assumed it added to the flavor.
Every year, we'd buy 2 gallons of cider. As soon as we arrived home, I was allowed to have one small glass (a little 4-ounce juice glass) of sweet cider. I didn't know it then, but the first little glass I had created headspace for the fermentation process. And then, the remaining cider was off limits, allowed to sit quietly on the counter until it had "turned" and had just the right bite. Every evening, I'd go in with my father and we'd loosen the cap on each gallon. We'd listen patiently, day after day, until we'd start to hear a magic little fizz. Over the next couple of days, the hiss would increase in volume and length, and bubbles would form on the top of the cloudy brown liquid. We'd pour out just a small sip each night to test it out. As a child, I didn't know how or why the cider did this. I only knew it was the most important step.
After several days, the cider would make a nice long hiss and it would have a perfect bite to it. In all actuality, the cider was fermenting. But of course, I was far too young to understand. But I did understand it was something we didn't rush. The cider had to be just perfect before we drank it. To be clear, my father didn't drink alcohol. We weren't setting out to make an alcoholic beverage—we were after that particular bite. Fermentation does produce alcohol, though, and I don't know how much our cider contained.
Once it reached the right bite, we'd put it in the refrigerator to slow any further fermentation. We'd enjoy a small 4-ounce glass each evening for many days...until we ran out. The last glasses were always bittersweet. Not in flavor, but emotion. There was something special about this tradition with my father. Something connecting me to his past on the farm. And I imagine it reminded him of his childhood and family traditions. The love of cider with a bite didn't materialize out of nowhere—it was passed down for at least a few generations, maybe more. Interestingly, I don't recall my mother ever drinking any with us. I guess she never learned to appreciate the somewhat unique taste.
If the cider sat in the refrigerator too long, I was told it turned into "Old Grandad". Truth be told, Old Grandad is a type of bourbon whiskey, and it has nothing to do with apples. But to my young mind, it was something we didn't want to happen. I did sneak a taste one time when some had been in the fridge a little too long. It wasn't the dry wine flavor you'd expect from extended fermentation. It was more like apple cider vinegar. I understood then the goal was a nice sharp bite while still retaining the fruity flavor. And interestingly, I've never been a fan of commercial hard cider. It in no way resembles the cider I grew up on.
This tradition is one my father and I both passed along to my son. Sweet cider and hot cider both seem "wrong" to us. There's something special about getting the bite just right. For many years, I'd venture to the Amish market every fall. At the time, their cider was raw cider and the most likely to turn with little extra effort, but it also carried a greater risk of containing illness-causing bacteria. But there's an orchard not too terribly far away. For safety, they do pasteurize, but they don't add any preservatives and it is possible to coax it into turning. And I can buy it at a few small stores near my home.
Last year, my cider didn't turn as well as I'd have liked from just sitting on the counter. This year I'm going to experiment to see if I can recreate the magic of the farm and bring back the warm memories of my most favorite family tradition. Do you have a favorite family tradition? I'd love to know what brings back your fondest memories.
Image by Veronica Bosley from Pixabay
Disclosure: I used ChatGPT to assist with a title and search description, and to review this post for clarity, punctuation and grammar. Unless otherwise indicated, the content and all opinions are my own.
