One of the very few regrets I have of my time covering cider and perry is that I wasn’t able to go to CiderWorld in 2020.

Tickets, flight and accommodation were all booked. I’d re-read the Germany section in World’s Best Ciders, done my research on the bars and bottleshops of Sachsenhausen and was ready for a proper deep dive into German Apfelwein. And then the obvious happened, and of course plans were put on hold. I’ve not been able to make it to CiderWorld since, and though I certainly can’t complain – I’ve had more than my share of luck and opportunity on the international cider and perry front – Germany in general and CiderWorld in particular is probably the cider-related itch that I would most like to scratch. Maybe next year.

I find Germany’s cider and perry culture absolutely fascinating. We’re very lucky on Cider Review to have a direct window into it via the tireless writing and advocacy of Barry Masterson. It’s also one of the relatively few countries to have a genuinely significant cider blog, thanks to Natalia ‘Cider Explorer’ Wszelaki, who I interviewed here. In terms of our own readership on Cider Review, Germany sits behind only the UK and USA. Not to mention CiderWorld itself, which between its awards and expo is probably the most important cider convention that I’m aware of in Europe – and behind only America’s CiderCon in global terms.  

Yet despite all this I find it surprisingly hard to unearth all that much about aspirational German cider and perry. Indeed when I speak to those involved in the scene – Natalia herself, as well as those small makers with whom I do have contact – they often seem to express a certain level of disappointment on the subject. It was telling that when I asked Natalia about her favourite German makers, two of those she mentioned were two of the very few Germany producers I already knew of – Barry himself and Florian from Gutshov Kraatz. She namechecked Andreas Schneider, but no one else from the Hessen region – the heartland of cider in Germany. Per this webpage there are about 60 producers around Hessen making some 40 million litres annually, and there’s a fair bit more information on this page, but I’m still left curious about broader styles, varieties, makers, methods. The culture of Frankfurt’s Sachsenhausen, with its beautiful bembel jugs and gerippte glasses (which I love) is a little easier to dig into from afar, but I’d love to know more about the cider itself.

When it comes to perry the picture is even quieter. As anyone who follows Barry will know, there are a good number of pear trees in his home region around Schefflenz. He’s previously reported its former significance in Bavaria and until relatively recently it was a central cultural tenet of rural life in the Western Palatinate, a little way west of Barry, near the Rhine and around much of German wine country. But today there’s vanishingly little to be had commercially, and if I didn’t have a direct line to Barry, Lord alone knows how I’d have found anything out about it for the book.

All of which is a sort of long-winded call out to our German readers to cure my ignorance! Cider is so often insular, as we’ve reported ad infinitum. It’s hard enough learning about the small makers of Wales or Normandy, never mind places further afield, but all things considered, Germany’s seems one of the best-placed cider and perry cultures to really shout about itself. Who do we need to know about? What are they making, from what fruits and in what methods? Who deserves more airtime than they get? Who are the movers and shakers? What is exciting you?

Anyway – all of this is an extra-rambly preface to the main point of this article, which is that, extremely unusually, I have a whole flight of perries from three different small German makers to try.

Two of them I’ve met before. Kertelreiter certainly doesn’t need any introduction, and I thoroughly enjoyed the flight I tried a couple of years ago from Patrick and Wendy at 1785, in the Black Forest, whilst Barry did his own interview and tasting with them last September. The third, Böhm Ciderwerkstatt, has been covered more thoroughly by Barry here than I could hope to manage, but today is my first experience trying their wares myself.

So we’ll let Böhm kick off, I think. Manfred, as we learned from Barry, makes cider and perry from meadow orchard fruit in the Hohenlohe, just on the border of Württemberg and Franken’s wine regions. His perries are milled, macerated for two days before pressing, pressed in an old basket press and then cold-racked several times to achieve natural sweetness.

First up is a single variety Oberösterreicher Weinbirne – a pear I feel I’ve encountered in Kertelreiter perries once or twice without perhaps having experienced as a single variety. (Barry will, I’m sure, correct me if I’m wrong.) Like many Central European pears its name nods towards the historic border crossings of perry pear varieties – this one originally hailing from Austria. (Though I’ve only come across it in perries from Germany). A 750ml bottle is listed on Manfred’s website at €12.50, though mine (as all the bottles in today’s review, in the usual name of disclosure etc) was a free sample. Let’s find out what it’s like.

Böhm Ciderwerkstatt Oberösterreicher Weinbirne 2022 – review

How I served: Medium chilled. Half hour out of the fridge.

Appearance: Clear buttery gold. More or less still.

On the nose: Lovely, floral, ripe aroma. Distinctly pear juice-forward; fresh pears in syrup, runny honey, honeydew melon. Maybe a bit of canteloupe. In English variety terms we’re deep in Blakeney Red territory, so with my wine lover’s hat on I’m thinking the riper end of Loire Chenin Blanc. A little apricot too but mostly that big, juicy pear.

In the mouth: Fresh, full, juicy delivery. Pretty sweet (definitely one to chill, I’d say) with just enough acidity to avoid being heavy or cloying at this temperature. Not much tannin and again flavours are that big whack of floral, honeyed, juicy straight-up pear. Big, clean, intense flavours. Could maybe use a tiny bit more structure for my taste, either in acid or tannin, to buttress the sweetness, but I pick nits.

In a nutshell: A lovely, ripe, super-approachable sweet perry from the Blakeney Red/Speckbirne flavour stable.

Next is a blend of a few varieties (not named on the label) from Manfred’s local Hohenloher fruit. €9.50 on his site.

Böhm Ciderwerkstatt Hohenloher Perry 2022 – review

How I served: As above but with 15 minutes more out of the fridge.

Appearance: Bright gold with a spritzy sparkle. 

On the nose: Interesting. Vivid and fresh and bright, but I think possibly slightly volatile. A slightly solventy, acetate edge to the fruit that just kind of smudges it for me, and rather grows with time. Otherwise some nice peach fruit and orchardy tones of pear skin, apple, bark and leaf. Just gets a little overwhelmed by that volatility to my taste.

In the mouth: A well-built palate with nice acidity balancing the sweetness. Fruit again very ‘of the whole pear’. Skins, flesh, leaf. A nice nibble of green citrus and a nice fresh peachiness. But again there’s that edge of peardrop acetate and volatile acidity that just, to me, distorts and overwhelms the flavours somewhat. 

In a nutshell: This is a perry that clearly has great bones. Just a bit of a volatile edge that doesn’t do it for me. Other mileages may, will and probably should vary!

Rounding out our trio from Manfred is another blend, this time of two varieties: the aforementioned Oberösterreicher Weinbirne and the Schweizer Wasserbirne (which, as the name suggests, is another border-crosser, this time from Switzerland. And interestingly was much imported to the UK in concentrate form to make Babycham back in the day, though I don’t know whether this is still the case). Anyway, let’s see how the two play together. This one is slightly older – a 2020 vintage – and again is available for €9.50 from Manfred’s website.

Böhm Ciderwerkstatt Gaisbacher Weinbirnen 2020 – review

How I served: An hour out of the fridge

Appearance: Pearlescent peachy gold. Medium mousse.

On the nose: One of those ‘only perry’ noses. Russety pear skin, rainwater on rocks, fresh clay, pineapple and a faint whisper of very ripe banana. Cut from the burly, earthy, Flakey Bark or Butt cloth. (Which is kind of surprising, since as far as I know, neither of these two varieties are. Toffee waffles. Pear tart. An elusive nose, but an evocative and very compelling one.

In the mouth: A big delivery, as expected, with tannins to match. Definitely don’t over-chill this one! Burly, broad-shouldered ripe pear and tropical fruit meet autumn leaves, forest floor, earthy orchard – sous bois. This is a big perry. A little tangerine skin adds brightness to that fruit weight and those big, big tannins. Love this.

In a nutshell: A big bruiser of a perry, perfect for the season. Serve with chunky food beside roaring fire.

It’s been too long since I tried Patrick and Wendy’s handiwork, so I’m especially looking forward to tasting our trio of 1785s. Since that first article in 2021 they seem to have continued going from strength to strength, winning all sorts of awards and earning plaudits from the likes of Natalia at Cider Explorer. I’m also especially grateful to Patrick for being one of our most engaged readers, often helping build on our articles with insightful and thought-provoking comments. 

The perries we have today are two new-vintage editions of bottlings I tasted previously – the 2022 vintage of Cobalt Lake, which is a blend of Pastorenbirne and Luxemburgische Mostbirne (we’re doing a real Euro-trip of pear variety origins today!). These big old traditional trees grow near the eponymous glacier lake, and the vintage I tried previously was a big, textural cracker. Let’s see how I get on with this one. 

It’s fermented to dry and bottle conditioned (hats off to 1785 for the admirable detail available on this page – including serving suggestion). A 750ml costs €16 directly from the producer, if your home country is lucky enough to be in a bit of Europe that Brexit hasn’t dropped a steaming turd on.

1785 Cobalt Lake 2022 – review

How I served: Lightly chilled

Appearance: Pineapple juice. Bright mousse.

On the nose: Oh that’s a noseful of joy, that is! Bright, vivd shades of yellow; yellow pear skin, ripe yellow citrus, yellow tropical fruits. Yuzu and star fruit – but some of that earthy, russety perry minerality too. Complex and concentrated – aromas all a beautifully integrated whole. 

In the mouth: Full, textural, flavourful riot of a delivery. A righteous crack of tannin, spritzy mousse and a nice little zing of acidity meet all that fresh, crisp, full yellow fruit. This is a high definition perry! Again flavours are so harmonious and concentrated that it’s difficult to skewer individual tones – just a chorus of that citrus and bright tropical fruit. 

In a nutshell: A fabulous, vibrant, full-hearted smasher of a perry. Super impressive. Will age nicely for a few years.

Some act to follow, but let’s try to do so with a mini-vertical of their Perry Cuvée. I reviewed the 2020 vintage back in 2021 and loved it, commenting that I expected it to age beautifully to boot. And today that theory is being tested, since Patrick and Wendy have sent me another bottle of that vintage to taste against its successor, the 2021. Intriguingly, my notes from 2021 suggest that the 2020 vintage was the same blend as Manfred’s Gaisbacher – Oberösterreicher Weinbirne and Schweizer Wasserbirne. Whether that’s true of the 2021 vintage I’m not sure – the website says ‘a blend of different varieties’. 

Intriguingly, these perries are made in the charmat method – the process most famous in Prosecco, where a secondary fermentation is induced in a large tank, rather than individual bottle, to create a sparkling drink but with less lees impact on flavour. In this instance however ‘large tank’ might be overselling it – Patrick tells me they use 55 litre steel beer tanks to minimise the ‘snow globe’ effects of perry whilst still allowing some lees effects. ‘Basically keg-conditioning followed by counter-pressure bottling’. So a sort of charmat-hybrid.

We’ll let the younger perry start, I think, which is available online for €16. (The 2020 has sold out – my bottle was sent purely in the name of scientific research, of which I heartily approve.

1785 Perry Cuvée 2021 – review

How I served: Same as Cobalt Lake

Appearance: Pearlescent pear juice. Lively mousse (slightly too lively – had to dash to the sink!)

On the nose: Again a vivid, ripe, complex and beautifully-integrated nose. Aromatics here are in a softer fruit direction. Melon and pear flesh with sun-warmed florals and some lovely, savoury, lightly-autolytic tones; a little saline dough. It’s a cracking perry nose all told – one that goes beyond mere ‘fruitiness’.

In the mouth: Palate ramps things up another notch (and they were already very high!) Full, winey and manages the delicate balance of being structural without any sense of sharpness or astringency. Melon and pear, heightened by spritzy fizz, lemon ’n’ lime zing and that saline, savoury lees character.

In a nutshell: Beautiful, complex, gastronomic perry that I reckon would be perfect with – dare I say it? – rich Christmas fare. Drink now or for 5+ years, easy.

1785 Perry Cuvée 2020 – review

How I served: As above

Appearance: Deeper, lightly-burnished gold. Steady mousse.

On the nose: Phwoar. A step up in richness and complexity. The fruits still tack in that pear, melon and soft tropical fruit direction but they have started to deepen and dry and broaden, moving into shades of pear tart – filling and pastry – lychee and dried fruits. Gorgeous, stately perry nose.

In the mouth: Again a big, full, textural perry delivery. Nose repeated note for note, but here is also dried lime, sweet spice, honey – despite this being almost completely dry. Lovely palate weight of fruit; integrated tannins adding heft. Maybe not as full-bodied as the 2021, but sits a step ahead to my taste – a speedy and beautiful developer.

In a nutshell: Such an impressive, complex, grown-up perry – and, excitingly, with potential to develop further. Serious stuff.

It’ll take quite some perry not to be anticlimactic after that, but if anyone’s equal to producing one it’s surely Barry Masterson. Two to try today; both dry as usual. 

Weirdly, I’ve never been 100% certain exactly how Barry carbonates his perries, and despite messaging him about perry more or less every week, have never thought to ask. So today, after 20-odd previous reviews of Kertelreiters, I finally did, and here was his (very on-brand) answer:

‘I don’t like using the term force carbonation for how I do some of those, as it suggests the “sodastream” method for fast carbonation in a bottling line. If I do not want a perry to change, I will rack it into a pressure vessel and simply leave it under pressure for a week or two. It slowly absorbs and the bubbles are finer/less aggressive than true force carbonation. I aim for 2 bar at 20°C (and can calculate what pressure I need based on temp, the lower the temp, the lower the pressure needed for an equivalent carbonation). I sometimes bottle condition ciders and perries. I have not done a pét nat perry yet, as I dislike the random risk factor associated with not knowing what the final gravity should be, thanks to sorbitol. But there are ways to work around that.’

So there you have it. First up is Luminosity – made from ‘a single variety ‘suspected to be Brunnenbirne’. Another new one to me as far as I know. (Haven’t you written a book on perry? Who is this fraud? I know, I know. Ah well, never claimed to be an expert). Anyway – €14 gets you a 750ml from Barry’s website.

Kertelreiter Luminosity 2022 – review

How I served: Lightly chilled.

Appearance: Hazy tropical fruit juice. Light spritz.

On the nose: Smells as it looks. Super juicy. Kia Ora, for fellow children-at-heart, apricots, mangoes and lemons for those less so. Tinned pears. Very ripe. Very fruity. Yellow Huffcap meets Taynton Squash. A hugely appealing, joyful fruit basket of an aroma.

In the mouth: Even fruitier here – an absolute blast of Lilt! Pineapple, mango, apricot, fresh pear. One of the most tropical-toned perries I can recall, and Barry’s bottled some real fruit bombs in the past. Not much acidity – just enough, with the fizz, for balance. No great amount of tannin. Almost sweet by Barry standards, too, though I suspect that is sheer fruitiness (and a little dibble of our friend sorbitol).

In a nutshell: This is a pure, beaming, beachside fruit cocktail of a perry, and totally delicious.

Concluding our Germany perry mini-Odyssey is Nuada, another sparkling Kertelreiter (though Barry also made a still version of this one). It’s a multi-variety perry (eight varieties, including both perry pears and dessert pears – Bayerische Weinbirne, Oberösterreicher Weinbirne, Schweizer Wasserbirne, Gräfin von Paris, Conference, plus 3 others unidentified if you’re keeping score) and it was aged on the lees for a chunky 18 months before release. €12 direct from source. Today’s bottles have all been very good value given size and quality, I must say.

Kertelreiter Nuada (Sparkling) 2021 – review

How I served: Lightly chilled

Appearance: Very pale, totally clear Gold. Bright mousse.

On the nose: Barry Masterson is a perry cheat code. What an utterly bright, spotless, vivid, crystalline nose that is. All high tones – this is a crunchy trill of honeyed spring, all hedgerow and gooseberry and lime and quince and cut grass and electric green pear, augmented with the perfume of fresh flowers. Fans of Mostviertel perry and of Austrian or German white wines, consider this a major hint.

In the mouth: Tastes as good and as vivacious as it smells. All that crunchy green fruit and vegetation and floral honey. Lees add richness and body without detracting from the pure intensity of pear flavour Jewel-bright; as clear and perfectly formed as a single teardrop. The utter precision of flavour on show here is simply breathtaking.

In a nutshell: Think classic Mostviertel flavours but with more breadth and texture. A marvel.

Conclusions

Germany might not make much perry these days, but my God it’s lucky in the producers it has. Eight perries, seven of which I’d drink again in a heartbeat. To all of our many readers in and around Germany: hie thee to these producers’ respective websites.

There’s such an underused treasure trove of perry pear trees in Germany, and it’s clear that their fruits make drinks as diverse of flavour and texture and as just-plain-delicious as anything in Herefordshire, Domfrontais or Mostviertel. Perry is underappreciated in every country in which it is made, but if the curious drinkers and makers of Germany give it the reconsideration it deserves, they’ll find themselves richly rewarded indeed.