Mirthful's Comestibles

(Lanseres på Vinmonopolet lørdag 5. november 2011.)

Nose: Apples! Fresh, pleasant, not very complex.

Palate: Red, ripe apples. Sweet, but far from cloying. Fresh and pleasant, like the nose.

Comment: Not… well… complex or intelectually stimulating or anything like that, but it certainly goes down nicely. I will probably be buying more of these.

Nose: Green apples and (artificial) lemon. Green wood.

Palate: Green apples, certainly, but other than that my thoughts go towards white wine.

Comments: Fundamentally different from the Thatcher’s. It’s a bit odd, actually, but not at all unpleasant. If it were sweeter it could almost be a simple white wine with lemonade.

Score: Ach. 6 out of 10.

Nose: Fresh and green apply, but very “commercial cider”-ish.

Palate: Crisp and clear, but like the nose hardly exciting.

Comments: Why bother with a “vintage” when it’s this bland? There’s nothing inherently wrong with this, it’s easily drinkable and it’s not too sweet, but it’s boring, boring, boring.

Score: 5.5 out of 10 (though I should have tasted it against the Westons – but at least that had that tartness which rescued it from insipidness)

Edit: I’ve adjusted the score, after reflecting that the scale as described for whisky sets 5 as the breakoff for where I’d willingly part with money. As I even drink Magners if I feel like cider and that’s all that’s available (and in Norway, it frequently is), 3 for this stuff is unrealistic. It’s better than Magners, if only just.

Nose: Not much. Vague apples, but mostly something I can only name as glue. It’s not unpleasant, however, just odd.

Palate: Fresh, apply but with a gluey note. Much sweeter than the still Sedlecombe, but with an overall tartness which rescues it from utter blandness.

Comments: Not completely characterless, but unfortunately it doesn’t reach the Sedlecombe’s knees and suffers humongously by the comparison. Since we’re not exactly innundated with choice as far as cider goes in Norway I’d probably quite happily buy it over here, though, and even in a standard British supermarket it’s likely to be one of the better picks. One of its major advantages is the lack of sweetness, which most commercial ciders suffer from.

Score: 6 out of 10

Edit: I’ve adjusted the score, after reflecting that the scale as described for whisky sets 5 as the breakoff for where I’d willingly part with money. As I even drink Magners if I feel like cider and that’s all that’s available (and in Norway, it frequently is), 4 for this stuff is unrealistic. It’s better than Magners, if not by much.

Nose: Red, quite mealy apples, old wood, a tart note on the side.

Palate: Much tarter than expected from the nose, almost lemony. A good, rounded taste, though, and I find the red, mealy apples again, as well as an earthy character.

Comments: I could drink this forever. I can’t quite pin down where it comes from, but I get a strong image in my head of an old farmhouse, whitewashed stone walls, old wooden doors and window frames and an open window with a basket of blushing apples sitting on a table inside, all being warmed up by a late afternoon sun. Anything that that conjure up that sort of image deserves a standing ovation in my book.

Score: 9 out of 10

Norwegian cider. Well, I don’t have high hopes, but it would be nice to pleasantly surprised.

It started with a bang. Literally. I know I called the Polgoon Aval “too sparkling” at first, but this is something else entirely. The bottle is corked “champagne style” and the moment I had unwound the wire sufficiently, cork, wire and cap disappeared heavenwards. Maude knows what our upstairs neighbour thought when it hit the ceiling with a loud bang. A good 10 cl decided to leave the bottle and bubble over, prompting a rescue operation on the blanket I happened to have under the bottle. Pouring it was an adventure in itself, and yes, if I stuck my nose in before it had settled down I got that rather unpleasant co2-sting in my nose.

Nose: Green apples. And, eh, green apples. And you have to almost touch the liquid with your nose to get even that. Not a big nose, then.

Palate: Sweet apples. A tad too sweet for me, but not so much as to call it cloying or anything like that.

Conclusion: Rather boring, though. Not much happening on the nose or the palate. Too much like Mozell (a cider-like Norwegian soft drink). I’d like to know the sugar content, if it’s not soft-drink level then I could see the point of this, if it is, well, then I’d rather drink the non-alcoholic version. Still, it’s not not good, to put it that way, I’ll be quite happy to finish the bottle.

I was going to do notes for a couple of (really great) Caperdonichs this evening, but I was more in the mood for cider, so cider it is. This is another bottle we picked up in London and this is what the producers have to say:

“Made from selected English apples, the fruit is pressed and fermented to produce a light dry cider. Then we use the ‘Methode Traditionelle’ of secondary bottle fermentation, which the French have used for years to produce some of their finest sparkling wines! The end result is a refined sparkling cider, to be enjoyed with lunch, light foods, shellfish, lazy Cornish days, friends and family.”

Well, I’ve had a lazy day, though not nearly as Cornish as one could have wished, but I’m foodless and companionless, as the husband has the late shift. Still, I’m pretty sure cider ought to work in any case.

Nose: Immediately upon having been poured it is way TOO sparkling. The effect of sticking your nose in the glass is reminicent of drawing too deep a breath out of a washback in full fermentation, it stings! However, it settles down and becomes pleasantly sparkling with a light, quite dry nose with clear, clean apple notes.

Palate: Uhm. Ok, my first impression is of slighly rotting apples. This is not a good thing. The second sip is much better, but without much character, really. It’s dry and light and apply, but a little boring. The rotten sidenote comes and goes, but it’s not going away.

Conclusion: Well, I’m halfway into the glass, and really, the verdict is No, just No. I’ll cork the bottle up and let the husband have a taste to see it it’s just me. I’m hoping the rotten note is a sign that there’s something wrong with this particular bottle, but who knows?

Luckily I have a chilled bottle of Boulard’s Cidre De Normandie in the fridge, so I’m going to get my dose of cider (it’s not the bees knees, but it’s very drinkable, and reasonably available since they have it in Sweden).

“A traditionally light Devon cider from 100% organic Devon apples, Sugar Bush, Quench, Devon Crimson and Pig’s Snout.”

Firstly, it caught me off-guard by bubbling over when I opened the cork. Ok, so it’s been hefted along in a suitcase from London and driven along bumpy Norwegian roads for hours, but it’s been resting comfortably for over 24 hours by now. I’d dispute the “lightly sparkling”, therefore.

Nose: Apply and ever so slightly vinegary.

Palate: “Tart” is the first thing that springs to mind. Very tart. Almost vinegary, in fact. It also, somehow, manages to be sweetish. Distinctly apply, which is good.

Conclusion: Too vinegary to be wholly successful. Not unpleasant, but bordering on being just that.