The Cider I Wish We Could Make Again | Jan’s Blog

There is a cider we used to make at Merridale that I really wish we could make again. It was called Cyser. I loved that cider.

It was complex and full-bodied, with plenty of tannin and acidity from the cider apple varieties we chose for it. When I poured it for guests, I would tell them there was a party going on in their mouth. Could they find the bitters tucked into the sweetness? Could they feel the sharpness of the high-acid cider apples?

It wasn’t a shy cider. At 10% alcohol, Cyser was made for sitting down with food rather than knocking back on a hot afternoon. It was particularly good with spicy food, where the sweetness could soften the heat. And if you happen to prefer a sweeter cider, it had plenty to offer.

Then there was the honey. Cyser was made with pure BC honey, often from the hives we kept right here in the orchard. That part of the story was important to me because we have always tried to make our land a good place for bees.

We plant trees and other plants that provide food for pollinators. We leave the dandelions alone long enough for the bees to get their fill before we cut the grass. We have water nearby, and our cider apple orchard is managed without herbicides and pesticides. It all adds up to a healthy little ecosystem, and the honey that came from those bees had a character of its own.

So why did we stop making Cyser?

Money.

Not a particularly romantic ending to the story, but an honest one. The cost of honey went up. So did the cost of the cider apples we needed to make the kind of Cyser we wanted. We simply couldn’t raise the retail price enough to make the numbers work.

And there was something else we had to pay attention to: not everyone wanted a cider quite like this one. That is one of the harder things about making a product you personally love.

You aren’t making cider just for yourself. Over the years, I’ve learned to pay attention to what our customers are telling us. Sometimes they tell us they love something. Sometimes they ask for something different. And sometimes they make it pretty clear that the product you are slightly obsessed with isn’t going to become their new favourite.

The orchard has taught me that paying attention matters. You can’t make an apple grow faster because you’re impatient. You can’t decide when it is ready simply because you have a schedule. You watch, you wait and you respond to what is actually happening.

Cider is the same.  So, Cyser disappeared.

Would I bring it back? Probably not.

The economics haven’t improved, and tastes have moved on. There are plenty of other ciders we make that people reach for more readily.

But I still remember Cyser. I remember the tannins, the acidity, the honey and that lovely bit of sweetness. I remember putting a glass in front of someone and watching them try to figure out everything that was happening in it.

It was a really good cider. Of that, I remain completely convinced.

But making cider isn’t about preserving every product we happen to love. You must listen to the people drinking it, accept that tastes change and let something go.

Even when there was, quite frankly, a very good party going on in your mouth.