I may have jumped the gun a little in my last column, when I declared the beginning of the fall brewing season. But if Wikipedia is to be trusted—and my college experience has been horribly misguided if it isn't—autumn officially began last Friday. And with the new season comes a host of new Bacchanalian pleasures.
While I have never partaken in the odd custom of paying for the privilege of performing manual labor—a tradition my friends call "apple picking," which is best undertaken, as I understand it, wearing flannel—I can appreciate the high quality of northeastern fruit.
After I took a juicy bite out of a perfectly tart apple swiped from under the watchful eye of Irene in Moulton, the subject for this week's column instantly materialized, kind of like the horde of high school seniors who take over campus on Experience Weekend.
This week, I am reviewing six domestic ciders, five of which are produced at breweries in the Northeast. To do some research, I ventured further afield to Topsham, where Bootleggers has an excellent selection of local ciders.
Hard ciders are not to be confused with their mild-mannered, unfermented cousins, served to children around the country. Typically, cider is produced by pressing ground apples to extract mostly filtered juice, adding yeast and spices, and then allowing the mixture to ferment for at least three months.
To limit uncontrollable variation in style, I selected the original cider for each brewery, which necessitated forgoing green apples or seasonal varieties. In my experience, these variations have often been nothing more than poor imitations of the original.
Harpoon Cider (4.8 percent alcohol by volume) was the first cider I tasted, and a few sips nearly convinced me to abandon this column. It poured extremely clear with almost no carbonation and produced the indelicate aroma of Barefoot Chardonnay.
The scent proved spot to be on, as the first sip revealed nothing more complex than watered-down, cheap white wine with a hint of apple as an afterthought. A fellow taster and I ditched our glasses in despair after a couple more mouthfuls, though one of our other companions embarked on an ultimately futile mission to finish a whole bottle before the night was out.
Harpoon's lackluster cider proved to be the undisputed loser of the night—only a masochist would consider purchasing it.
Woodchuck Amber (5 percent) is brewed in Vermont and is undoubtedly familiar to anyone from the Northeast, for good reason. While other breweries have simplified their offerings and reduced them to the bare ingredients, Woodchuck embellishes its flavor with a discernable hint of cinnamon that provides a welcome change. It pours relatively dark and releases aromatic spices. Woodchuck is heavier than the rest, with a more complex, but sweeter, flavor.
The drink's sweetness and complexity were both ideal for drinking a single bottle, but several tasters noted that the very characteristics that make the first Woodchuck of a night great make the third a chore.
Original Sin (6 percent) has a light color and very little aroma with a mild, dry, crisp apple flavor, which would have been pleasant,were it not for a lingering aftertaste of cheap wine.
The apple itself is never entirely fleshed out, and one taster quipped that this cider lacked the punch of any worthwhile sin. Ulimately, Original Sin failed to make for a noteworthy experience and the watery flavor and unexciting mouth feel encouraged us to quickly move on
McKenzie's Original (6 percent) is the darkest cider we tasted and it smelled less like apple juice than the others and more like a fresh-pressed cider.
This cider proved to be easily the most full-bodied drink in the running, and it is easy to taste its connection to hard cider's non-alcoholic counterpart. McKenzie's subtly taps the tart side of apples that goes largely unexplored by other brewers.
The first sip was pleasant, but with each subsequent sip, pure sugar began to overwhelm my palate. After half of a bottle, I was resolutely defeated by its cloying sweetness. McKenzie's showed promise from the start, but it ultimately proved too saccharine for my taste.
Angry Orchard (5.5 percent) had a clear pour with very little aroma. This cider had only a light, subtle apple flavor and it was, thankfully, only mildly sweet. It too had a slight white wine flavor, but unlike that of Harpoon or Original Sin, this nod to chardonnay did not detract from the overall experience.
Angry Orchard proved to be entirely unremarkable, with no real predominating flavor, but tits greatest strength may be its "drinkability," to borrow a word normally reserved for cheap beer. Were I buying a full six-pack for myself, I would seriously consider Angry Orchard, which also excels in the best name and bottle design categories.
Hornsby's Amber Draft (6 percent) is the only cider in this review produced outside the Northeast, yet it is a perfect example of what a good cider should be. When poured, it is well-carbonated and releases a pleasant aroma of apple. The taste is crisp and sweet—just like a fall apple—but not overwhelmingly so.
Despite the relatively high alcohol by volume, Hornsby's does not have a discernable taste of alcohol, and a mildly sweet aftertaste lingers on the palate.
Hornsby's is easily my favorite for all occasions, though I must admit that the decision was not unanimous among my friends.
A savvy cider buyer may choose a single Woodchuck, a few Hornsby's, or a six-pack of Angry Orchard, depending on where he or she hopes the night will take them.