Categories
Food & Wine Food & Drink

’Tis the Season for a Cider … or Two

And so it was that Littlebit came down from atop the mountain and said unto me: “Verily, Father, I really haven’t the taste for beer, so I’ll have an apple cider.” Or words to that effect.

Sewanee has wrapped up a very nearly plague-free semester and sent its charges home to take their exams. Judging by some of the Instagram feeds, exactly how they stayed very nearly plague-free is God’s own private mystery, but here we are.

At any rate, that’s how I found myself hoisting a pair of Woodchuck amber ciders with the gal.

In wines and champagne, I tend toward the dry side of things, so Woodchuck amber was a little sweeter than I’m used to, but it’s crisp enough that I don’t mind it. What’s more, apple cider fits the environment, which really is half the battle when you’re stepping out of the usual well-worn habits and trying something different.

No bad apple — Lakeland’s Long Road Cider makes a stiff drink with Pommaux.

It’s fall — sure it’s about to be winter, but it’s going to keep feeling like fall until January. The leaves are still turning is what I’m getting at here, and that always provokes a rash of almost historical Johnny Appleseed pieces on the Sunday-morning shows. Which is where I learned that until prohibition the vast majority of apple production in the United States was for booze, not the heart-healthy, keeps-the-doctor-away varieties of the fruit we cram down our children’s throats.

This was always a struggle with Littlebit, who didn’t like apples — until now. So for the craft beer set sneering at the cider, this isn’t a new fad but a tremendous patriotic backflip of a century and a half.

I’m glad she suggested it because I forgot how much I like the stuff. It doesn’t have a foamy collar like a beer, but there is enough fizz to give it a little bite, which is what makes cider so refreshing. It goes down pretty easy, and to judge by the way I outpaced Littlebit, a little too easy. Not the sort of example I need to be setting.

Now that we’ve launched ourselves into the eatin’ season, it’s good to know that cider pairs well with roasty fall dishes — and you’d be hard-pressed to find a better beer to quaff with a roast turkey or a grilled chicken than a crisp, well-made apple cider.

Woodchuck is made in Vermont — and they seem like the sort to be good at this kind of thing. For a more local option, there is the Long Road Cider Company located in Lakeland, also available around town if you don’t want to make the trip. Besides, some of their ciders pack a wallop, so the return trip from out there can get swirly. They also have a 19-proof hard cider called Pommaux that isn’t exactly liquor — but it is great for making an interesting twist on the Wassail-type hot-spiced holiday mug. True, it rarely gets cold enough to require it, but it sure as hell gets damp and clammy enough.

If you want to take a six-pack home, you’re better off with Nashville’s Diskin Cider — which sounds suspiciously like a pecker joke. At any rate, on a recommendation I tried their Daydream Prickly Pear Rosé Cider. Well, I try my best to be positive here, and for that matter I also try not to be sexist, but … This rosé pear cider seems to be ringing the same bell that wine coolers rang back in the ’90s. The sweetness borders on Jolly Rancher territory, and pears don’t have the crisp bite to counterbalance it. In short, I know what market they’ve targeted, and why said market likes the stuff. But I am not that market.

For the record, Littlebit recommends Bold Rock Cider, which claims both Virginia and North Carolina as home. Alas, you’ve got to head up into the mountains for a pour.

Categories
Food & Wine Food & Drink

Cider Flight: Weathering the Season’s Apple Brews

All that Americana foolishness the wee ones are taught about Johnny Appleseed isn’t entirely BS — just about 65 percent. In truth, there was a fellow named John Chapman who introduced apple trees in groves to the west — back when that meant Ohio. The fruit he was slinging around Hell’s half acre, however, wasn’t for wholesome snacks and pie. They were little crabby things — cider apples — best used for tying one on.

With the cooler fall weather, of course it was up to DJ, Memphis’ favorite Irishman, to throw an All-American Ciderfest over at his pub, Celtic Crossing.

“It was my wife’s idea,” he pointed out. I feel you brother. In my house, the good ideas generally are, as well.

Sipping cider at Celtic

They’d had a Ciderfest last year, and along with periodic Scotch and bourbon and gin tastings, as well as World Cup-inspired beers, Celtic is a pretty good place to pop in and have something you’ve never tried.

“DJ,” I said, “you really love a festival.”

“Well, if you’re going to own an Irish bar,” he replied, “you’d better learn to throw a party.”

In these unsettled times, there is a certain genius to that. I mean, the Irish basically colonized half the large cities east of the Mississippi without firing a shot. They drank their way in.

For Ciderfest, the weather broke the habit of a century and cooperated with very fall-like temperatures on a crisp, beautiful day. Football was on the widescreen, and pale, fizzy flights were passed around all over the place — drawn from 26 different bottled ciders, and four on draft.

The flights are a great way to go, even though DJ and I both agreed that, with our generation, a flight was a way to try something new and decide which of the four you were going to stick with on the night’s epic journey to get plowed. These younger kids, though, will order flights and then more flights, sampling and tasting. According to DJ, “They want to own the experience. See all of what is out there. It’s really a better way than what we did.”

“Oh God, without a doubt,” I think I said.

Memphis’ own Long Road Cider was slinging a clean, crisp, and dry tipple called Lagerhead — which is worth the trip out there to try a pint. Of course, the big names were there, like Angry Orchard, with an unfiltered cider that tasted unfiltered, a rosé that tasted like a rosé, and an extra crisp that tasted … Well, you get the picture. Evidently the trend of esoteric craft-brew names hasn’t gripped the cider community just yet.

Then things did get creative. I’d had something that had been cleverly christened a Black & Wood earlier that week; it’s a Guinness and Woodchuck cider. This concoction is the artistic love child of a traditional Black & Tan and a shandy: The whole thing gets lightened up with the cider, but it isn’t as sweet as a beer doused in lemonade.

Woodchuck’s Pear Cider is another off-the-wall choice. It’s not what you’re probably expecting: It’s very good and lacks the bite of an apple cider. It goes down smooth, almost weirdly so. Mrs. M liked it, although she stuck with her Bud Light.

There was a cider-inspired food menu, but we managed to miss it, although at home I marinate pork in cider all the time, and it works beautifully. Sitting in Celtic, watching Cooper Avenue go one way then the other, we had the bacon-wrapped shrimp — which are beautifully non-greasy and will go with whatever you’re drinking — and the fries. Mrs. M has strong opinions on French fries, and these were in in her top five. Although it should be pointed out that the lady has been known, from to time, to change her mind on things.

Categories
Food & Wine Food & Drink

Great Drinks for Fall Weather

Drinkers, rejoice! As I write this column, the temperature is still hovering in the upper 80s. But by the time this week’s Flyer hits the streets, fall will have arrived via a cold front that promises 40 degree lows at the end of the week.

Nothing like a cold snap to make me long for the crispness of autumn drinks.

Wine-wise, I’ve already begun gravitating away from my typical array of pinot grigios and vinho verdes. Over the last few weeks, my tastes have migrated a bit northward on the European continent — to Austria and the Czech Republic, the home of Grüner Veltliner.

A dry, zesty white wine, the Grüner Veltliner varietal, which is most closely linked to Savagnin, dates back to Roman times and flourished post-WWII, gaining traction in the 21st century after topping several “best of” lists. Today, it’s also grown in the New World, popping up in vineyards in the Pacific Northwest, in Canada, and in Australia and New Zealand.

I love the crisp, oaky-meets-peppery taste of Grüner Veltliner. It’s the perfect white wine for real fall nights, when the sandals and short-sleeved shirts are finally put away until next year. Dare I say that it yearns for boots, tights, and jackets? Yes, I do.

Best of all, my favorite bottles leave plenty of room in your budget for fashion. Both the Hugl Grüner Veltliner and Skeleton Grüner Veltliner come in at under $11 per bottle, and each provide the tart, acidic equivalent of biting into a Granny Smith apple. Both are easily found locally — I search for the Hugl by its red-and-white striped screw cap. The bottle of Skeleton makes a perfect gift this month, too, should you have any dinner parties or Halloween fright fests on the horizon.

Speaking of apples, I decided last weekend that in honor of the new calendar month, I was going to try an Apple Smash, weather be damned. I saw Steven Stern’s recipe in The New York Times, picked up an apple in the produce department, and made the drink on Sunday afternoon. It was easy, unique, and utterly delicious.

First, I made simple syrup, then let it cool. Then I sliced a Honeycrisp apple, and, following the recipe, muddled one slice in a cocktail shaker. Apple slice sufficiently smashed, I added two ounces of white rum, a quarter-ounce of fresh lemon juice, a half-ounce of the simple syrup, and a dash of bitters. I shook it with ice, per a recommendation in the comments, and strained the concoction into a highball glass filled with ice. I bypassed the garnish, an apple slice dusted with cinnamon, since there was no one but the dog to impress. I’ll definitely be making this again as the season progresses.

On Food & Wine magazine’s website, I found several more worthy apple cocktail recipes. I love the concept behind the Pomme Pomme Squad, a Calvados-based cocktail that also includes Cognac, absinthe, brown sugar syrup, and allspice liqueur, but honestly, my liquor cabinet isn’t sophisticated enough to make it.

The Apple Bomb, on the other hand, is more my speed. This drink combines two ounces each of applejack (or apple brandy) and apple juice, 1 ½ ounces ginger beer, and an apple slice as garnish. Served on the rocks, it packs an apple-gingery punch that’s quite satisfying.

I also love the hard cider sangria, made with apple brandy, hard cider, apple juice, lemon juice, an orange, and thinly sliced red, green, and yellow apples.

I’m not the only autumn-lover with an eye on the weather. According to their Facebook page, this Thursday, October 11, the folks at Long Road Cider are hauling their apple-crushing equipment outdoors for the public to learn about the process. Head up to their headquarters at 9053 Barret Road in Barretville to participate, or just watch and taste the fruit of their labors — in liquid form, that is. It’s just a 40-minute drive from Midtown, and they’ll keep the party going from 4 until 9 p.m. Call 352-0962 for details.

Categories
Food & Drink Hungry Memphis

Long Road Cider Opening this Weekend

Scott Patterson worked in marketing. Then he decided he didn’t want to work behind a desk for the rest of his life. He had done some home beer brewing and had branched off into making cider.

All of this to say that that long road has led to Long Road Cider Co., which is holding its grand opening this weekend.

The cidery is located in Barretville, about half an hour away, near Millington.

Long Road sells small-batch ciders. Patterson describes them as dryer than what one might associate with a hard cider like Mike’s or Angry Orchard.  And, he likes to  experiment with ingredients. He’s used persimmons, muscadines, peaches, pears, and apricots.

There’s the Rhonissippi, which uses cotes du Rhone wine yeast, and the Ginger Was Hot! (a Gilligan’s Island reference) with ginger root.  Patterson ferments some of his ciders in bourbon barrels, others he finishes off in the bottle, known as the Methode Champenoise.

Long Road offers non-alcoholic ciders as well, including a holiday spice cider.

Patterson says that brewing beer is “proactive,” while making cider is reactive. Fermentation can take a lot of time — three months to complete 50 gallons, according to Patterson.

Long Road Cider is available on tap at Miss Cordelia’s, the Rec Room, Cash Saver, and Lucchesi’s Beer Garden.

The grand opening is Friday from 4 to 9 p.m. and Saturday from noon to 9 p.m.  Expect cider-iffic shandys, cocktails, and sangrias.

Cider is available in both kegs and bottles. Long Road will be open Thursday and Friday, 4 to 9 p.m. and Saturday, noon to 9 p.m., with dock sales Monday through Wednesday (call first: 352-0962).

Images: Long Road Cider Co.