Which cider you on?

The Metro (London free morning newspaper) ran an article on Tuesday 15 August 2006 by Silvena Rowe narrating cider's rise from a drink solely for new age travellers to the beverage of choice for posh pub patrons.

Ridiculously, though, they interview a city boy who says: "It all started when Magners bought out pints wth ice". Ice! I ask you! It just waters down the taste and lets the landlord get away with not giving you a full pint. I blame Magners for the inexorable rise in the cost of cider over the last three to four years. Ice must be bloody expensive stuff.

To its credit, the article rapidly moves away from In Praise of Magners-type reporting to introduce readers to some of the more unusually named ciders out there - Slack My Girdle and Northern Spy being two of my favourites. I always thought Smack My Bitch Up was a good name for a cider, rather like an apple-based version of Wife Beater.

The variety of ciders in supermarkets is broadening, but sadly you won't find anything much more exotic than the occasional Stowford Press or Westons in most London pubs (although my local, the Cobden in Camden, does have Gaymers on tap - a vastly superior cider to Magners.)