A month or so ago, I felt the need for some apple cider. Bought some (pasturized) the next time I was in Giant. It was OK--I got it down--but it wasn't what I was after. This is probably some atavistic impulse that sets in to Pennsylvanians in the fall, but that's neither here nor there....
A week or so ago, I went up to the little farmer's market that sets up at the Farm Show (here in Harrisburg) on Tuesdays and Fridays. I was really hunting for the lady from Lancaster that sells bread, but that, too, is another story.
After finding the lady and getting my pepperoni bread, I was on my way out and stopped by a produce stand, where the gentleman was selling apple cider. An unpasturized quart was 1.25, I believe, and a half-gallon was 1.75.
Never being able to pass up a bargain, I bought the latter. I got it home, got a glass--I don't always do that, but I hoped this would be worth the ceremony--and poured some in it.
Bingo! After taking that first sip, I thought I'd won a jackpot where I didn't know one existed. It wasn't cider, it was the essence of delicious apple. Bringing back old memories of I-don't-know-what, and providing an almost elemental experience. Right up there with the first time I saw that sky full of stars over Key Largo.
I don't know if the cider in your area is this good, but you better give it a shot. If it is, it's not to be missed.
George Hall (AKA Bookhall, or is it the other way 'round?)