In many ways, I still think of myself as a cider purist. I love working with apple trees and all the ways that cider apples vary from one another. I fully accept the point of view that the apple alone is, and should be, enough for any true cider – most of the time. The creation of Hopsap Shandy in the summer of 2013 was the first time I wandered down the path of infusions (a story for another time). Not long after that, another opportunity to try again came about. But the first seed of the project was planted a full two years prior, when I was an apprentice at Albemarle CiderWorks.
In 2011, I fermented 50 single-varietal trials from the 250 varieties of apples grown at Albemarle CiderWorks. Chuck was not totally keen on this exercise, but he gave me the bandwidth and the fridge space to finish them. Anne and I spent hours hand-cranking a bushel here and a bushel there, trying to keep the single-varietals separate. We never completed more than three or four at a time. We drank the juice and made notes. I fermented it all into cider and made more notes. (I still have quite a lot of that cider sitting in my “stash” waiting to see how aging progresses some of them.) I thought about the results of those trials on and off while I was writing a business plan and starting up a cidery from nothing in 2012.
In winter 2012 and/or 2013, I can’t remember which, I made the mistake of telling a room full of apple growers how much I liked Summer Rambo. Summer Rambo is an early apple, so its sugar and tannin are low. But the acidity is nice enough and the aroma had so much rose petal in it. So in that winter moment, remembering that aroma, I inadvertently went long on it. Four months later, I had four orchards offering Rambos at a fair price and Chuck always taught me, “If you want the apples, buy them.” The market for cider fruit would always be tight and I was a new buyer. So I needed to make friends wherever I could find them.
In August 2013, I had two vessels full of Rambo juice fermenting quietly in the old cellar. I remember smelling the breath of the yeasts doing their work. The rose petal note was faint, but it was still in there. At about the same time, I got a call from AgriBerry Farm in Hanover County, VA. Would I like a whole big bunch of bramble berries for a cider? What grows together goes together, right?
At first, I thought not. Then I began to think about how nice a complement to the rosiness of the Rambo they might be. So instead of waiting for later apple harvests to blend in, Brian and I went ahead and pushed the berries into the Rambo cider, soaking them for two weeks. Filtering at the end was less enjoyable because – seeds. But the overall infusion was light and a complement to the Rambo cider, not a mask. For me, infusions are a process of carefully layering flavor and/or texture, but not overdoing it. The precious ingredients still need to shine through.
So the next time you raise a glass of Mill Race Bramble, give it a good smell first. See if you can find the rosy layer. If not, no worries. Instead, just think about all the good things that happen when we make the most of something in season, in a moment, and appreciate that everything is made beautiful in its time.
-Courtney Mailey
