It was four months ago when I was first introduced to the craft cider world. A winemaker friend in Livermore had taken my brother and I on a tour of what had to be 40 acres of vines and hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of the latest fermentation equipment and brand new French oak barrels. We tried everything from cabernet pfeiffer to chardonnay to ramato.
But what really caught our attention was something that, from our perspective, had nothing to do with wine at all.
“This is my passion project,” our friend said to us, pointing to a blue jug in the corner that looked like it stored gasoline or something else that was flammable. He poured a pink, brown and yellowish liquid into our glasses from a spigot at the bottom. It was cider, it was really good, and we were intrigued.
It’s been a decade or two since craft cidermakers first started to make their mark on the beverage market. Arguably the most well known cider producer, Angry Orchard, began distribution in 2005. Now there are more than 700 cidermakers in the U.S. 20 years later.
While most consumers understand cider as being an alternative to beer—which it can very well be for our gluten-free friends or those just desiring something carbonated but without tasting like a mouthful of grain—its placement is more like a link between the beer and wine worlds.
“Just think of it as a different kind of white wine,” said Mike Reis, co-owner of Redfield Bar and Bottle Shop in Berkeley.
Redfield doesn’t retail cider and beer. They stock cider and natural wine right next to each other. The similarities between the two are undeniable. Just like in wine, producers and retailers like Reis care about the element of terroir, the characteristic taste and flavor imparted to a wine by the environment in which it is produced.
Cider producers care about where the apples come from, if the orchard is managed organically or bio-dynamically, specific fermentation and aging vessels, and even the glassware used when tasting. All of these variables directly affect the finished flavor profile.
Can one taste the difference between a pinot noir and a merlot? If so, then they can taste the difference between a Kingston black and a Yarlington mill. Craft cidermakers have a beautiful sense of respect and minimalism when it comes to the single varietal.
“It’s being more of a shepherd than a scientist,” said Thomas Henry. “You can’t manipulate the fruit.”
After a stint in the commercial cider world responsible for mass production and marketing distribution, Henry took a leap of faith transitioning to his garage in Lafayette and starting Mount Diablo Cider Company.
It’s an experiment in extreme intentionality. He makes 200-300 cases a year, and harvest to glass is a minimum of a year, maximum two and a half years. Henry has hung his hat on the Gravenstein varietal.
Originally from Denmark and brought down to Fort Ross via Russian fur traders, Gravensteins have a tight two-week picking window accompanied by an annual fair, with production mainly in Sebastopol. Henry’s goal was to impart the uniqueness of the land into a Gravenstein cider by working closely with certain types of soil profiles. It resulted in something earthy, robust and balanced. Actual terroir in cider.
Cider production in the East Bay has many forms, from garage-run operations like Mount Diablo to a wholesale monster like Far West Cider Co. in Richmond, the genesis of which took place on a family-run orchard in Ripon. The Chinchiolo family has managed the Lucky You orchard for four generations, growing apples, cherries, plums and pluots, being one of the first orchards in California to consistently grow Fujis.
When the idea struck to use the spare fruit to make cider, Adam and Andrea Chinchiolo went to work. As a result of a grant from the U.S. Department of Agriculture, they’ve cultivated a brand that’s reached into grocers like Whole Foods, Bevmo and Total Wine, making close to 30,000 gallons of cider annually.
Another local pillar is Blindwood in San Leandro. Founder Drew Gabel started with a dream and a food-grade IBC tote, a container mainly used for shipping, in his garage in Hayward. They produce intricately flavored ciders like their flagship ginger peppercorn or their seasonal “Spring Forward” with lavender, lemon zest and thyme, as well as single varietal staples and experimental co-ferments like Gravenstein cider mixed with Aglianico pumice, an Italian red grape.
Blindwood harbors a community as exuberant and vivacious as their ciders. From taproom regulars to passersby, it’s an eclectic group signature to San Leandro.
“Before, our cider was just a product,” said Gabel. “With the taproom, we’ve actually been able to tell our story.”
Cider has a tight-knit community that rivals in the most loyal of niche fanbases. Flora and Ferment, a cider bar and retail store in downtown Albany, hosts a “Meet the Makers” event. It’s an opportunity where cider lovers and producers are simply able to converse and commune though the common medium of cider.
Unlike other beverage professions, cider producers not only share their methods with the drinking public but with fellow producers as well. The market is in such need for great cider that there isn’t room for hostilities. Great cider production is good for all cider production.
“I’ve never felt as welcome anywhere as in the world of cider,” said Drew’s wife, Cathy Gabel, of Blindwood.
Recommendations
- Mount Diablo Cider Co. – “Native Son” ($22.95)
- Blindwood Cider Co. – “Kingston Black” ($17)
- Far West Cider Co. – “You Guava Be Kidding Me” ($20 for a 12 oz. 4-pack)
