It was mid-September 2023, and after a 6.5hr drive down south from Ardrossan in North Ayrshire, Scotland, the back of my van loaded to the brim with freshly emptied whisky barrels, I arrived at Broome Farm in Herefordshire (Ross Cider HQ). Albert and Becky were out picking Thorn perry pears with Mike and a few friends, in a corner of their orchards I didn’t know existed up till then. After helping pick a few sacks worth of pears from the orchard floor, we wandered back to the Top Barn and shimmied the barrels out the back of my van. Early Autumnal Herefordshire sunlight hit the casks, now resting in their new home for a few years to come. Originally bourbon barrels, so composed of American oak with the handy help of a cooper or two, these then found their way to Lochranza Distillery on the Isle of Arran, where they held whisky from this, my favourite distillery, for just over 10 years. Now a new life awaited them, it was time to get acquainted with freshly pressed cider apple juice (and perhaps perry pear juice, I’m not sure). A new identity for a new season. A cog in the circular economy. Hopefully a cracking imparter of flavour on cider to be discovered and cherished in the coming years!

Down to the lower barn and I mention to Albert just how much I’m enjoying his Harry Masters Jersey releases that have been aged in oak. After much rustling in boxes in his office, out appears one I’ve not tried for three years. “See how this one’s aged in the bottle after all this time,” says Albert. It’s the Dabinett & Harry Masters Jersey blend from the 2018 season – I was not expecting to ever lay eyes on this bottle again. “But if you’re going to try this one, try something new alongside it too, try this one,” says Albert, reaching into a cardboard box in the labyrinthine Bottom Barn. It’s the Dabinett & Kingston Black blend, from the sun-kissed 2022 season, just released now over the Easter Weekend 2024. I held onto the bottles for a month or two before trying them for review, by this time they’ll have had even more time to whisp and wind their way into delicious corners of your taste buds. Both ciders utilised some form of oak cask in their creation, and both feature the workhorse cider apple, Dabinett, in their blend. I’d like to think a few of the casks I brought down from Arran are graced with some Dabinett juice (or perhaps Bisquet) and end up helping produce cider that tastes even half as good as these two bottlings.

At this point in the writing process, when all was ready to get sent off to Barry for editing with a second pair of eyes on the word jumbles from my brain, a friendly WhatsApp came through. Who was it but co-founder extraordinaire of Cider Review, and author of that upcoming book on Perry, Adam! “I hear you’re reviewing the new Ross cider release,” asked Adam “Mind if I contribute to it, along with the new Butt perry they’ve also launched?” Of course, t’would be my pleasure! I love these collaborative reviews, and as I’ve not yet tried the Butt perry myself, it can add an extra twang of interest to the article. So in the spirit of friendship, and enjoyment at writing about cider and perry, it’s something old, something(s) new!

Ross-on-Wye Dabinett – HMJ 2018 Pêt Nat Oak Cask – review

How I served it: Chilled for 30 mins in the fridge. Then fireside.

Appearance: Marmalade on the hob, still elemental and transitioning from oranges and sugar to a jam-like state.

In the mouth: Autumnal, fallen apple leaves on the orchard floor, slight bonded warehouse nose, if you’ve ever sniffed the outside of a whisky cask you’ll get where I’m coming from.

On the palate: A sprinkling of allspice atop an apple crumble at first. Then a slight smoked orange note. Followed by that familiar woody tannin feel on the roof of your mouth from Dabinett, with a bit of Harry Masters Jersey asserting itself in the form of a mild astringency on your cheeks.

In a nutshell: Four-and-a-bit years in bottle and the flickering fireside structure and candlelit juiciness of this cider will preserve it for many more moons to come I feel. I remember the intense sunshine of Summer 2018, what a beautiful way to capture this harvest, nay this whole season in bottle. The even years are certainly presenting themselves as sunnier ones in my memory, 2018, 2020, and 2022 being the most recent. A season fermented and preserved in a 750ml bottle.

Ross-on-Wye Dabinett – Kingston Black 2022 Oak Cask – Jack’s review

How I served it: In the fridge for an hour and then acclimatised to room temp over 15 mins.

Appearance: Topaz, the yellowish-brown version.

On the nose: Hints of oak cask on the nose, as well as late Summer raspberries, turning to raspberry jam. Kingston Black is asserting itself here alongside the Dabinett.

In the mouth: Cranberry juice, very lightly effervescent (but this has only been in bottle 3 months at the time of review). Orange pith , there’s a juicy undertone here to the familiar tannic Dabinett flavour profile. That extra acidity from the Kingston Black is noticeable. As it warms, develops a very pleasing stewed plum note.

In a nutshell: All sorts of fruity, juiciness! Where the Dabinett took to the fore in the previous bottle, Kingston Black is vying for juicy dominance in this blend. That 2022 heatwave sure had an effect on the fruit. It’s almost akin to a mulled wine or cider – sugar and spice and all things nice.

And now over to Adam.

Ross-on-Wye Dabinett – Kingston Black 2022 Oak Cask – Adam’s review

How I served: Room temperature

Appearance: Rich copper, very gentle fizz

On the nose: Big. Although a spritzy sparkle says this has done some conditioning, there’s a light touch of sulphur here that suggests a little resolution still to go. However that sits on tope of huge, huge fruit – almost jellied really; apricot, orange and something jammy and red and very appealing. A touch of vanilla from the casks but really this is all about ultra-ripe fruit.

In the mouth: Delivery to match – this is massive. All those fruit jellies upfront which progress into riper tones. There’s a touch of lucozade in there too. A little acidity for balance, but only a touch. This is all about 2022 – HUGE body and ripeness. But being 2022, there’s an absolute hammer of tannin behind the fruit, which gets pretty pithy and astringent. This is a cider right at the very start of a long and very interesting life. Proof once more that cider not only can – but in certain cases should be given proper aging time. This is not one to hurry.

In a nutshell: This cider is huge, bellowing its vintage and apples. I suspect it’ll end up a classic, but this is something to treat as you would a great big Bordeaux. Right now it’s very young. So do yourself a favour, buy some, ignore it as long as you can and then serve it with big, hearty food. You’ll be richly rewarded.

Adam jumping in with a bonus addendum perry…

This being me, I have to throw in a perry that Albert was also generous enough to pass along. It’s a 2022 vintage Butt Pear, one of my favourite varieties which I have written about very positively before, most prominently here.

I’ve had the opportunity to taste this one at various stages of its life – including at the Applefest Grand Banquet, which Albert felt was perhaps a smidge early in its development. I remember feeling it was very good at the time, but agreeing that it perhaps hadn’t quite reached fullness of expression. Let’s see how it’s doing now.

Unlike the last Ross Butt Pear I tried, this is just a single vintage. Also unlike its predecessor, it’s 100% Butt Pear – no 5% Foxwhelp topping up the containers. Just released, it’s available on Ross-on-Wye’s website at £12 for a 750ml and I dare say a few retailers besides.

Ross-on-Wye Butt Pear 2022 – review

How I served: ‘Cellar temperature’ (Half an hour in the fridge – you could get away with room temperature too though)

On the nose: Classic Butt Pear aroma – that elusive, evocative wreath of petrichor and natural gas and pear skin and hawthorn. Instantly recognisable as this pear. Instantly puts you outdoors. There’s a herbiness here too – bay leaf, perhaps – and some oyster shell minerality. The paradoxical thing about pears like this of showing big, ripe fruit, without smelling especially ‘fruity’. Well, I know what I mean, anyway. A quality I absolutely love. Cracking aroma.

In the mouth: Full-bodied, ripe, juicy yet complex and detailed delivery, tillered by big, grippy but integrated perry tannins and enough acidity to balance without being nippy. Big flavours – though less intense than the previous Butt Pear blend – all the evocative outdoor tone of the nose, augmented by a little pine needle and that big, ripe, near-impossible-to-skewer Butt Pear fruit. Yep, it’s a goodie.

In a nutshell: A beautiful evocation of one of my favourite perry pears. Less in your face than the previous iteration, and more detailed and cerebral for it. Go long – I’m certainly going to.