Show a little effort

   Yeats once described poetry as countless unseen hours in an effort to create something that appears effortless…

“A line will take us hours maybe;

Yet if it does not seem a moment’s thought,   

Our stitching and unstitching has been naught.”

   Dare I say farming is the same way?  When a farmer markets their product the image they put forth is always ideal: red barns, hay fields, old wooden cider presses, and cows dotting a hillside.  Just look on the package of any food product and you will see exactly that.  But the fact of the matter- and I know everyone knows this deep inside- is that farming is grueling, angry, dirty and disparaging work.  It’s a constant outpouring of physical and psychological energy.

   I was thinking this because when people look at my life they imagine I have the best of both worlds.  I live/work on a beautiful farm and I must be making a decent living… 15$ a bottle, 550 gallons, that’s like $40,000.  But ignoring, of course, the taxes, wholesale, overhead and all the other costs that reduce the income by two thirds (actually even more), what people don’t see is the 15 hour days, day after day, frantically working to wrap-up a task just to start on the next 'urgent job' from a queue of never ending urgent jobs.   

But like all farm products, if it doesn’t appear a simple creation of nature, our pain and struggle will be for naught.

Originality + Craft = Fine

  For those trying our ciders for the first time, let me admit that they might not instantly appeal.  We have aligned ourselves with a very small number of craft cider makers- one or two from each Northeastern state -who have been experimenting for years far beyond the entry levels of Cider 101.  In this cider-for-ciders-sake world it's easy to forget that there is a massive realm of sweetened commercial cider and most people have only those drinks to reference when they see our label.  Rather then mention what our cider is not, let me talk about "fine cider" using the terminology of "fine wine" presented by Matt Kramer, wine writer for the Wine Spectator.
  He writes:  "Originality + Craft = Fine."  (As for the 'Craft' part of that equation, Kramer leaves that for another essay, but it should assumed that the formal skills, the basics, are required in fine wine.) He continues...

"But how do you know if a wine is original? You keep drinking, you keep tasting, you try one wine and then another and pretty soon (if you are paying attention) a pattern emerges. You discover that many wines- too many wines- taste more alike than not. That's your "Aha!" moment because that's when you recognize originality. You have achieved context."
 
  For Cider, it's pardonable that that context is 'hard' to achieve in America.  This is because there aren't a lot of fine ciders to familiarize oneself with and finding them is even more difficult.  But things are changing for the better.  We are now witnessing a ton of wineries and hipster start-ups (today's dot-coms) enter the cider field and even if 'fine cider' still remains elusive, some of those launches will be listening to the apple rather then popular demand for sweet hard ciders.  Clearly our own ciders stand out on that level, but I want our ciders to stand out amongst "fine ciders" too.  I am certain our Homestead Cider is a shining example of originality but not just from the context of crap ciders, from fine ciders too.
  So I recommend achieving context.  For those who haven't tasted the rainbow, I suggest familiarizing oneself with the Norman, Basque and English West-Country ciders and I'd be happy to recommend those Northeast cider makers too.  Just email me. 

Artisanal, shmartisanal

   Quiznos now serves a "handcrafted" sandwich on "artisanal" bread.  Is there any more incentive to avoid using those terms?  We have known for some time that this was coming, large companies always come late to the party dressed to blend in with the cool kids, but now we see this has happened in the cider world too.  Woodchuck Cider has a product built seemingly around the words: "handcrafted", "artisanal", "farmhouse"  and "made in small batches." Coors and Miller have done the same. (And BTW, I tried that Vermont brand... OMG, it's sugary- I actually prefer their original 6-pack cider.)  But this brings me to my inquiry:  Are these companies trying to devalue our accomplishments by taking the power out of the true word meanings, or are they just trying to cash in on the trend?   I'd love to have sat in on that Quiznos board meeting.
   Let me say, as someone who's background is in art, as someone not interested in making 'real' money off of cider, as someone free to experiment and explore the craft, and as someone 100% engaged in my ciders -from fruit selection, to tree planting, orchard maintenance, milling, pressing, fermenting, aging, blending, and bottling, labeling, marketing, etc. (all truly by my hand, btw) - I can swear to you: art and business don't mix. They seek opposite horizons.  And although business people will never admit this, true artists unanimously agree, talent is not transferable.  Business might be it's own art, but it's the opposite of the art itself.     
   I commend the businesses that are trying to save farms and farmland.  I commend the farms that want to feed the world.   I commend the farms and businesses that are employing people and keeping the local economies afloat.  Those are all very honorable and good reasons to farm and make cider.  But that's not what I'm doing.  I am making art, and if that's not reason enough then there is no place for me.  Personally, I think I'm doing the world a service too, but it's art first-and-foremost.  Customers have to first prioritize this if they truly want artisanal cider, and farmers have to go toward art, not business, if they want to learn how to make artisanal products.
   And, no, I don't appreciate wolves dressing up like artists or the masses faining support, but that's always been the case with art.  That's why trends migrate, because artists can't stand insincerity.  I, personally, don't posses the self-confidence to feel genuine and excited by my craft when it's saturated by those numbers.  Maybe that's what Woodchuck wants, for us to get out?  Whatever is going on, it's definately time for true artists to find a new underworld because it sure isn't artisanal foods.  But I'll try to stick it out.  Maybe I'll learn to thrive under the lights, or - more likely - the trend will pass.