Cider in Savannah

From John Pinkerton, I received a lengthy response to my blog post on real cider for Thanksgiving.

John is not only a real cider aficionado; he is a professional ciderist.

John Pinkerton of Moon River Brewing (r) with
2008 Hickory Hops Festival organizer Bobby Bush (l)
and Jamie Bartholomaus of Foot Hills Brewing (c).
John is the brewmaster and co-owner of Moon River Brewing Company in Savannah, Georgia. He produces real cider there for sale at his brewpub.

Here are his comments (gently redacted):

In Georgia, Hard Cider is treated like beer up to 6% alcohol. I would assume that if a given cider had the requisite amount of malt sugar and hops (negligible) it could be brewed up to 14% as a "malt beverage".

For Moon River's Road Trip Hard Cider, we aim to keep it at or below 6% abv for the sake of keeping it in the 'session' range, although that can be a challenge depending on the variety of apples used.

At Moon River we've always leaned heavily towards the late season, tart varieties, because I believe the acidity makes for a more dynamic flavor profile.

From Mercier Orchards in north Georgia, we use a blend of Granny Smith, Pink Lady, and Gold Rush. In previous years we've supplemented the mix with sweeter varieties to bump up the sugar, but with the addition of Gold Rush, this is unnecessary. Gold Rush had the acidity of a Granny, the tannin of some of the old heirloom varietals and the sweetness of a Splendor. We've seen the Brix of Gold Rush as high as 19... By itself could get you to almost 10% with no additional sugar!

We drive up to North Georgia each year sometime in late October to early November in a Ryder truck loaded up with ten, 55 gallon food-grade plastic drums.

We usually stay in Atlanta on a Saturday night to dine and drink in some of the finer Beer/ Culinary haunts of the Southeast. This year Beeramerica.tv was on board to film a nice segment at the Sandy Springs location of Five Seasons Restaurant and Brewery. The food, beer and company were spectacular to say the least. We'll post the segment sometime around New Year, and we'll also be posting a separate segment which chronicles the whole Road Trip Hard Cider

The next morning, we drag ourselves the rest of the way up to Blue Ridge, Georgia, where the Merciers are cheerfully waiting to press our 550 gallons of fresh, juicy goodness, while we wait.

After the pressing, which is a Willy Wonka spectacle to behold, we load up for the long trip back to Savannah. The weather in North Georgia is usually quite chilly that time of year; our juice stays quite cold.

In fact, even after we pump the cider from the drums into the fermenter, it often takes several days for the temperature to come up enough to get our house strain of English-style ale yeast up and running. We use the same strain of yeast that ferments our IPA, Porter and many others, though we always manage the schedule so the yeast pitched into the cider can be dumped after fermentation.

There is, of course, plenty of wild yeast and bacteria that come from the orchards, playing a role in the over all character of the finished cider. Despite this, we have very little concern for the long term stability of the cider, for a number of reasons. Our hard cider is only served in house, so it remains cold through out its life span and I believe the alcohol combined with the fairly high acidity help it keep for a long time.

Just the same, I've actually tasted cider that had been sitting in kegs in an out door boneyard in Savannah, Georgia for several years that tasted remarkably unspoiled, albeit a bit oxidized.

As for cross- contamination w/in the brewery, we treat our tanks and lines to the same aggressive cleaning regime that we use for any of our Barrel-aged, brettanomyces, and bacteria beers. We have a whole set of clamp gaskets that we only use for these type of fermentations and since we only do "wild stuff" once or twice a year, we also take the opportunity to outfit the tank with all new gaskets, just to be safe.

We have not had any issues with line taint. We have a pretty solid program for cleaning our lines. Also, the main run of our draft lines is barrier tubing with some polyvinyl on the ends for restriction, which get changed out every few years. As for flavor taint... the only thing that's ever given me a real problem was [a commercial] cheap apple based cider with a really tenacious and, IMO, seriously overdosed pear extract. That stuff is like rootbeer!

We filter loosely through a pad filter, though truth be told, it is usually a huge pain in the arse. I assume pectins are the culprit. We have for the last few years utilized a general pectinase to help, although the normal dose last year didn't do a whole lot for us.

We force carbonate.

While I haven't done a yeast-on-skins fermentation with our cider, I'd like to play with that some day, even if just a portion of the whole batch. We currently have plans to barrel age a portion of the batch that is working now. We have a Mondavi Red Wine Bbl full of our Dixie Cristal - Belgian-style Trippel, that is about ready to be racked... my plan is to refill it with our Cider and see what happens. The Trippelbrett-y witch hazel and juicy fruit characters evolving, so I have high hopes for the cider.

I'm not aware of any other brewpubs doing cider, but I'm sure some one out there is probably doing something similar.

We only do this once a year [in apple season], so I don't consider myself an expert, but my experience leads me to believe that cider is pretty darn simple... as it should be.

With beer, there is so much nuance with the process itself to create good beer. With the cider, I don't feel like I can take much credit... it's pretty much nature's goodness.

When I was last in Savannah on business, I had stopped in at Moon River. But I didn't try the cider. So, a road trip might be called for.

The Sun's Xmas Choices

Rob Kasper, columnist for the Baltimore Sun, has published his annual article revealing the paper's choices for winter/Christmas beers.

He splits the list of candidates into three regions.

The Belgians work wonders with sugar and yeasts in their beers. The Americans, an ever inventive lot, delight us with their bigger but balanced brews. And the English deliver toasted and roasted delights.

He describes what makes a winter beer a winter beer.

Whether these beers are called "winter warmers," holiday beers or Christmas beers, traditionally they have something extra - an additional ingredient or an extra helping of malt - that the brewers put in the mix.

He lists 14 favorites out of the 60 tasted. They include, in no particular order:

• Brooklyn Black Chocolate Stout, one of eight among thirty-five American beers tasted.
• Klein Duimpje Kerstbier, one of three among fifteen Benelux beers tasted.
• Ridgeway Lump of Coal, one of three among ten English beers.

Rob's article, and the full list of winning beers, is on-line at Holiday beers: something to celebrate.

I participated in the power tasting that determined the choices. Several of my preferences were not those of the majority of the panelists. Read more about that experience and the beers we tasted here.

Caveat: I work for a wholesaler in northern Virginia —Select Wines— which sells Brooklyn Black Chocolate Stout.

Happy Apple Thanksgiving

Turkey, who needs a turkey?

For me, the Thanksgiving meal is the culminating celebration of a mid-Atlantic bounty of vegetables and fruit. Beginning with the shoots of spring, this feast continues through summer (real tomatoes!), and finishes now with all those wonderful apples, and gourds and root vegetables.

Of course, most Americans will be enjoying turkey tomorrow. But it's those side dishes that seem to foment bibulous consternation: What wine to serve that can stand up to those flavorful foods yet not overpower the bird.

And, as if to add to the annual angst, a legion of epicures has appeared in the last decade or so, advocating not wine but beer at the table. Count me as one of that horde.

Even though wines such as cru Beaujolais (not insipid Beaujolais Nouveau) or Gruner Veltliner or Champagne (or slightly fruitier Prosecco) can be fine wine accompaniments, it is beers —with their flavors derived from roasting, toasting, sprouting, and cooking— that are natural complements to the meal.

As beer writer Lew Bryson put it:

with Thanksgiving you've got a variety of traditional foods on the table, usually simple, and generally not sourced from wine-country cuisine.

In a 2003 piece I wrote, entitled —surprise— Turkey and Beer, my recommendations were saison and Flemish sour reds. I'll stand with those tomorrow.

But beer writer Stephen Beaumont suggests:

Ordinarily, I enjoy Champagne with turkey. On the beer front, I'd probably side with that wine's close cousin and select a firm, dry gueuze.

I'm a dedicated fan of gueuze and unsweetend lambics. But the intense sourness of gueuze, and its lactic and gamey aromas (though appropriate to the meal), may be too much for some diners.

So I'll offer one more recommendation.

Writing in the winter issue of BEER, the house magazine of the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA), Dylan Jones —editor of GQ Magazine (!)— said this:

just a few months ago, I had one of my very rare epiphanies, sitting in the River Café in Glasbury-on-Wye. Studying the drinks menu and looking for something that would successfully accompany a gargantuan portion of the (very good) food they serve there, I spied something called Westons Vintage Special, an 8.2 per cent proof cider. <...> My experience with with Westons has made me completely change my attitude towards the drink. Not only have I recently sought out two local ciders in France (one in Brittany and one near Banyuls), but I have started paying more attention to real British organic ciders. <...> Simply put, I've been converted.

Being from the British Isles, Mr. Jones did not link real cider to Thanksgiving. I will.

Real cider is not sweet flavored alcoholic apple juice. Very different in production and flavor, it bursts with phenolic complexity, tannic structure, sharp effervescence, and refreshing acidity.

And although real cider lacks the cooking-flavor hooks of beer, its inherent character and seasonality makes it an appropriate mate for the entire Thanksgiving meal.



The Washington Post recently ran a piece on cider in the Spirits column: It's Time Cider Got Some Good Press.

In the early years of America, most apples ended up in the cider barrel. Cider was the beverage of choice in those days, mainly because apples were cheaper and easier to come by than the grains and grapes with which Europeans made their liquor [and beer and wine]. By the 17th century, cider often was being substituted for water, which was considered to be unsafe.

Cider ruled until the end of the 19th century, when temperance-movement zealots began chopping down entire apple orchards, "unable to conceive of any other use for the fruit except spirits," according to "Laird's Applejack Cookbook." That resulted in one of the saddest and least-acknowledged culinary legacies of the temperance movement and Prohibition: the loss of acres and acres of American cider apple varieties.

As to real cider suggestions, stay away from what you see on supermarket shelves and on tap at many bars. Those ciders are merely sweet, flavored, artificially carbonated apple juice with alcohol added. Rather, the Post's Jason Wilson recommends

the clean, refreshing notes of the British cider Aspall; the dry, champagne-like elegance of french products such as Eric Bordelet Sydre Argelette; the crisp, sappy Farnum Hill's Extra dry, which hits some of the same notes as, say, a New Zealand sauvignon blanc. <...> A cider such as Etienne Dupont, my other favorite, has tiny, sparkling bubbles, a yeasty and ripe fruit aroma, an intense yet round apple flavor, and a lightness that makes it very drinkable.

Real ciders —or 'cidre' as the Brittany French refer to them— are often packaged in 500-ml or 750-ml bottles. They can run, price-wise, the same as cheap wine, but as Wilson notes, at 6% to 9% alcohol, they make for tasty replacements over mediocre white wine.

In the U.K., real cider is usually served fresh from casks like real ale. More here.

Whatever your food choice, and whatever your libation choice, enjoy a happy and safe Thanksgiving.

Caveat: I work for a beer and wine wholesaler in northern Virginia —Select Wines— which sells Aspall Cider.

Craft beer vs. the brewery monster

The St. Louis Dispatch has created a comprehensive report on the creation of Anheuser-Busch InBev (ABIB), collating many of its stories and analyses onto one webpage:

Out with the old, in with the new.
Beer deal: the end of the king's reign.

I asked a colleague in the beer business what he thought of the sale of Anheuser-Busch to InBev.

You've mistaken me for someone who cares, was the reply. A bravura shrug should not be the response. Wariness should be.

Why?

The craft beer industry, due to its precarious and small nature, is at great risk to be affected by circumstances from this sale, predictable and unforeseen, that are out of its control.

Neo-prohibition is on the rise. The economy is in historically bad shape (and excise taxes may be increased on alcohol to help deal with that). In ABIB, the craft beer industry is facing the largest brewery the world has ever seen.

Possible scenarios? There may be realignment of distributorships, scarcity of ingredients (real and nefarious), scarcity of packaging materials (the same). And what of Trojan Horse products: lower-priced beers masquerading as craft beers?

The US House of Representatives has a Small Brewers Caucus. But don't put too much stake in that. Its home web page still lists an event held in May of 2007 as an upcoming event. And, of the 35 members in the Caucus, there are none from Maryland and only one from Virginia: Representative Virgil Goode, Republican from Virginia's 5th District.

[As an update: member craft breweries of the Brewers Association and the National Beer Wholesalers Association (NBWA) will be hosting a tasting for Congressional staffers at the Rayburn House Office Building on 3 December. ]

It helps to have friends in high places. But that's not enough. The craft beer industry and its friends need to redouble their efforts to create small brewers guilds, cooperate in purchasing and marketing campaigns, and actively engage in political outreach.

ABIB has $52 billion dollars (some reports say $55 billion) of debt to repay. It won't be looking to be small breweries' friend.

Hidden Appetites

It was foodie serendipity.

A few days after I had attended the Hidden Kitchens discussion at the D.C. Historical Society, a friend showed me a copy of the book Hometown Appetites, subtitled:

The Story of Clementine Paddleford, the Forgotten Food Writer Who Chronicled How America Ate

Clementine Paddleford —with a name like a pseudonym for a writer of early 20th century romance novels— died in 1968. For the 4 decades prior, she had indeed been a writer, but not of novels.

Before celebrity chefs, before Zagat, before Julia Child, Paddleford had traveled the US, limning what America ate and cooked: its common food culture 'hidden' in plain sight.

Hidden Appetites chronicles Paddleford's career, and includes many recipes she wrote about. Authors Keely Alexander and Cynthia Harris provide explanations and substitutions for 21st century kitchens and pantries.

The Hidden Kitchens series, broadcast and webcast by National Public Radio (NPR), also searches for that sub rosa cornucopia, but as it can be found in today's America. Producers Davia Nelson and Nikki Silva —a.k.a. the Kitchen Sisters—

explore the world of unexpected, below the radar cooking, legendary meals and eating traditions — how communities come together through food. Hidden Kitchens travels the country chronicling American kitchen cultures, past and present.

Nelson and Silva's D.C. Historical Society presentation was moderated by NPR's Susan Stamberg. They read passages from their book (along with various NPR announcers as well) and played snippets of 'food' audio from their programs.

For instance, how Fritos, invented in Texas, were originally developed as a 'health' food!

How a man held in solitary confinement in Louisiana prison for three decades still managed to create and cook praline candy confections— an impossibility, at least as claimed by the Louisiana State Penitentiary authorities.

But there his pralines were, at the end of the evening, for all of us to try.

Now released from prison, Robert King Wilkerson had sent us a large fresh batch of his 'freelines'. (He has renamed them in honor of his status.) And they were, indeed, 'impossibly' delicious.

• Thank you to Cabot Cheese, who arranged for me to attend the Hidden Kitchens program. More here about that presentation.
  
• Photos.
• Apropos of the topic, I would also recommend Bob Skilnik's Beer and Food: An American History. It's one part history, one part beer myth exposé, and one part beer-as-ingredient cookbook.