An apple a year…

… makes the doctor appear. Well, it's probably not that drastic but such is my obsession with getting my five-a-day that I fear it may just happen. I was merrily eating a granny smith when I was struck by the fact that we are SLAP BANG WALLOP in the middle of the apple season and, hence, the cider season — I presume, I'm not a horticulturalist (I'm not haughty full stop) — and so why oh why am I offered granny smiths and pink ladies instead of coxes? I can't really complain as the fruit is a freebie from work but still… I blame the supermarkets. Right, now, just because I have been away from this blog for a long eleven months, it doesn't mean that I haven't been involved in ciderous activities. In fact, it must be about a year since I went to my first cider (well, beer) festival, in Twickenham. I've been collecting umpteen cuttings, from publications as varied as the South West Trains magazine to the Financial Times, on all aspects of cider, following the decline of Magners (well, if you will set a precedent for charging £4.50 for a pint of something that's renowned for being cheap and nasty, that's your lookout) and even had my first cider-related post on a GU blog (although I'll be damned if I can find it again. The Guardian's search engine is a bit rubbish, and I had no idea that the newspaper refers to cider so extensively, albeit often in a derogatory way). But I haven't yet had the time and the inclination occurring in sync to enable me to add this info etc. to the blog. Oh for an online home… There have been two occasions of big cider-related fun this year. The first was the discovery of apfel wein, or viez, in Germany, and I'll post the relevant bit from my article about it below (or rather, above). The second was a cider with Rose (not sure how to do the accent) party, my inaugural party in Putney Towers, and, if I've still got it, I'll publish my daft musings from the invitation here as well. So there you go, 11 months of cider, but hey, we all need time to mature.