Not many people visit Hollow Ash Orchard, one of Hereford’s hidden gems. Those who do are treated to a 20-year-old orchard in a windswept field overlooking Wales, a beautiful homestead with ‘cottage core’ gardens and a sensitively converted barn dwelling, and a warm welcome from owners Jeremy Harris and Clare Adamson. I had been wanting to visit ever since I tried my first Cwm Maddoc perry (Jeremy and Clare bottle their creations under the name of the local grand estate). Specifically, I wanted to find out more about how a couple that originally planted their apple trees to make juice for their grandchildren became one of the UK’s best cider-and (especially) perry-making teams. 

Jeremy used to be a primary school teacher. This rings true when you encounter his patience and love of sharing his knowledge. Over the course of a mild May afternoon, he showed my partner and me his orchard, his pressing shed, his small fermenting tank room, and the shipping container where he labels and stores his bottles. He told me how he used to bring his little bottling machine into school to show the children: “I loved watching their faces; they were always so sure the bottle was going to overflow, but it shuts off at just the right time!”

At each turn, Jeremy made self-deprecating comments; he should have got a different size of tank, he should have insulated the container, and so on. His operation is indeed unassuming, and the open pressing shed pleasingly rustic with autumnal oak leaves scattered around the floor. However, you know the insides of his stainless-steel tanks must be kept perfectly clean to produce such clarity in his drinks. 

Interesting small-scale single variety bottlings, especially perries, are Jeremy’s USP. Why the focus on single varieties? “I once blended a perry and it produced a snowstorm of sediment […]. So I thought, it’s simpler to just do the single varieties. And people seem to find them quite interesting.” I had written to Jeremy that I was interested in purchasing his Black Worcester perry, his Kingston Black SV cider and his Sops in Wine blend, as they weren’t available from The Cat in the Glass, where I usually get my Cwm Maddoc fix.

However, when we arrived back at the house after our tour, we saw that he’d in fact set out the three drinks, along with tasting glasses for the three of us as well as his current WOOFer, who had come from Japan to learn about English gardens. As we chatted and drank, bumblebees buzzed around my head, wildflowers swayed in the long grass, and it was all terribly pleasant. My reviews below were penned during this tasting — utterly unbiased by the lovely setting, of course! — for which many thanks to Jeremy. 

[Ed – since this piece was submitted, The Cat in the Glass has, in usual form, snapped two of the bottlings Beatrix tasted up. You can find the Kingston Black and Black Worcester here for £11 and £10 respectively, along with three of Adam’s four perries, below.]

Cwm Maddoc Black Worcester 2022 – review

How I served: Poured for me at room/storage temperature by Jeremy in his wonderfully verdant garden.

Appearance: A very slightly cloudy pale lime.

On the nose: Very floral indeed, and slightly tropical. Reminiscent of a dry white wine, perhaps a Sauvignon Blanc.

In the mouth: Light sparkle (Jeremy bottles everything pet nat). Not as intense of flavour as the nose was in aroma, with more grapey characteristics. No discernible tannin. A gentle creaminess reminiscent of banana and a slight yeasty character. 

In a nutshell: This is a summery, easy-drinking aperitif perry to get things going. I requested it because I wasn’t particularly familiar with the Black Worcester pear. One of the Warden varieties, it’s now not considered a true ‘perry pear’, but it is very historic, and I’m grateful to have had the chance to try it. As he poured us samples, the ever-humble Jeremy was quick to jump in with “I don’t think perry aficionados think much of [this pear].” Admittedly, this perry was a little low in flavour intensity, but that does seem likely to be down to the variety; it was still a flawless, refreshing, and enjoyable perry from a superb maker. I’d go for one of Jeremy’s other creations next time, but it’s great that he’s committed to showcasing interesting single varieties of all stripes.

Cwm Maddoc Kingston Black 2022 – review

How I served: As above.

Appearance: A perfectly clear, invitingly deep copper.

On the nose: Rich nose, almost oaked feeling. Concentrated apple, almost apple butter. Full of caramel. Deliciously sweet.

In the mouth: Juicy, lightly sparkling sweetness (not cloying). A light, herby freshness for contrast — good old Kingston Black. That highly concentrated caramel flavour again. Very gentle tannin. Utterly delicious.

In a nutshell: Without being too thick or too sweet, this has that incredibly moreish ‘cooked apple’ flavour of some cider distillates. Yum. This is not the highest-complexity cider ever, but it doesn’t need it. Perhaps the most enchanting SV Kingston Black I’ve had.

Cwm Maddoc Sops in Wine blend 2022 – review

How I served: As above.

Appearance: Slightly hazy, rosey orange. Sops in Wine is a red-fleshed, red-foliaged apple, and the medievalising, wassail-y name (which I love) likely comes from the fact that the apple’s flesh looks stained with red wine, like a ‘sop’ of bread floating in wine sauce.

On the nose: Relatively gentle nose, with a bit of dank yeastiness complementing a green, fresh apple feel.

In the mouth: Very sharp but not aggressive; quite lemony and berry-adjacent. Slightly drying. Reminiscent of Apfelwein or sidra natural in its acid-forward, yeasty dryness, but with more sparkle than those would have. A medium finish with light tannins. 

In a nutshell: The 1905 tome The Apples of New York damned the ‘Sops of Wine’ apple by saying, “It is frequently listed by nurserymen but is now seldom planted […], having been superseded by better varieties.” However, I think this blend works very well. It drinks quite like a Foxwhelp, perhaps with a bit less of the laser-sharp clarity of flavour. In fact, the blend does contain a decent amount of Foxwhelp (see details here). I think I’d pick Cwm Maddoc’s wonderful Foxwhelp and Cornish Giant blend over this, but the cider was still very enjoyable. We had the bottle we took home on a long train journey, and it was so moreish that we downed it before opening any of the creamy and crumbly, sharp British cheeses we’d brought along to pair with it — shame.

Conclusions

It’s almost a cliché now (among an admittedly highly niche bubble in which I find myself) that Cwm Maddoc’s perries are always faultless and delicious, with that slight hint of approachable-yet-refined sweetness. Unsure how to word my question, I asked Jeremy to explain to me what makes his perry so good. What is he doing that other people aren’t? “I think it might be the house yeast,” he proffered, referencing the fact that everything he does is wild-fermented. Other than that, the overarching features are that it’s all in stainless steel, completely unfiltered, and only sulfited gently at the beginning: “Minimal equipment, minimal intervention, the careful use of a hydrometer, and a bit of judgement.” Maybe there’s no secret to good perry — all you need is care and diligence.

Discovering makers like Jeremy and then introducing others to them is one of the things I love about being involved in the aspirational cider and perry scene. He’s very modest, he doesn’t do promotion, and he bottles his drinks under a different label (Cwm Maddoc) than his business/location (Hollow Ash Orchard). Despite their very reasonable price compared to some — “When I’m on my hands and knees in a windswept orchard picking up perry pears, I sometimes wonder what my time is worth,” Jeremy quipped — I likely wouldn’t have picked up his products from Cat in the Glass without friends’ recommendations. If this article inducts anyone else into the very special (but hopefully not secret) society of Cwm Maddoc drinkers, my work here is done.

At which point Adam jumps in…

Apologies for leaping into the passenger seat on Beatrix’s article (I did ask first, of course) but since she’d penned a beautiful piece on Cwm Maddoc and since I had a handful of Cwm Maddoc perries that have been eyeing me accusatorially for a few months now I thought we could knock a second bird on the head as it were. (Also, mention Cwm Maddoc three times and I’m wont to appear in a puff of excitement).

Very little to add to Beatrix’s words, besides to reinforce the point that if hype was purely meritocratic this maker would get far more of it. A producer that other makers, especially in Herefordshire, put on the very highest pedestal, but which sometimes seems immune to social media adulation and what little attention cider and perry get from mainstream media too. (In fairness, they literally tell you off for saying positive things about their stuff!) Definitive proof that whatever ‘influence’ means in the year of grace 2024, mine is distinctly limited. Which is certainly a net positive thing.

Anyway – I have four perries to get through, all from 2022, all single varieties – and, intriguingly, three of which are single varieties I’ve never had from Cwm Maddoc before. Moorcroft is fairly rarely spotted in these annals, since it’s an early pear with a ridiculously tiny ripening window, but is a variety I always look out for. Turner’s Barn I believe I’ve only had in single variety form from Ross-on-Wye here, whilst Knapper is a pear entirely new to me.

The fourth is a rare pear indeed, but one in which Cwm Maddoc are specialists – Betty Prosser. Very few trees of this variety remain, and I’ve only come across it from four producers. I’ve had two vintages from Cwm Maddoc previously in these pages – the 2020, which was all sweetness and light, and the 2018 which was a huge, hulking, gorgeous fruit-bomb. A pear especially responsive to vintage? Let’s investigate…

As mentioned above, three of these perries are available on The Cat in the Glass at the time of writing. The Betty Prosser for £11 and the Moorcroft and Knapper for £9.50 each, all of which are absolutely joke-mode prices; absurdly cheap for their rarity and what goes into their production. In the usual name of disclosure, mine were all sent as samples.

Cwm Maddoc Moorcroft 2022 – review

How I served: Medium-chilled. An unscientific half hour out of the fridge

Appearance: Bright mid-gold, delicate mousse

On the nose: Fresh, fragrant and managing the difficult double-bill of extreme fruitiness alongside absolute clarity and definition. Lychee, grape, fresh pineapple and greenhouse-warmed summer flowers all squeezed over with lime juice. Flawless, vibrant, detailed, charming. It’s definitely Cwm Maddoc…

In the mouth: Intensity ratchets up a notch on the palate with a beautiful, fine-boned tannin structure and a spritz of limey acidity giving vibrancy and direction to a pure, fresh-fruit tropical cocktail. Pineapple juice and tonic. Cool Gewurztraminer grapes popping in your mouth. Sherbet and lychee. It’s off-dry but the balance is pinpoint.

In a nutshell: This is such a perfect, beautiful, vibrant, energised, crystal-clear mouthful of perry fruit. My favourite Cwm Maddoc perry since Betty Prosser 2018. I demand that lovers of aromatic white wines get hold of this.

Cwm Maddoc Betty Prosser 2022 – review

How I served: As above

Appearance: Similar but a tone lighter

On the nose: This sits in an idealised utopia of the penumbra between Spring and Summer, when all is lush and green but fruits are just starting to appear and fat, waxy petals of summer flowers are sweating perfume in the sun. Melon and pear and blossom and lush grass. Guava, the roughness of gooseberry skin, a suggestion of pear-drop. High-toned and bright, soft of fruit and greenery. Very attractive, if down a touch in intensity and vividness from the Moorcroft.

In the mouth: Palate to match. Honeydew, peach yoghurt, lily petals and fresh pears in juice. A squeeze of brightening lemon. All florals and soft fruit; gossamer-textured yet appealingly juicy. Drinks a little sweeter than the Moorcroft without the same acid-tannin structure and is a little less vivid in intensity, but this is still a superb perry.

In a nutshell: Betty Prosser deepens and richens with age, but this is so charming in the first flush of its youth that it seems almost a shame to let it. Better buy two.

Cwm Maddoc Turner’s Barn 2022 – review

How I served: Just slightly less chilled.

Appearance: About the same as the Betty Prosser

On the nose: These aromatics! Another that’s just bristling with vibrancy, clarity and life. This time we’re tacking citrus; white grapefruit, muddled lemons and limes, cut grass, nettle, green pear skin, even crushed mint. I’m somewhere between Sauvignon Blanc and Txakoli, but with more breadth and depth. A good mineral waft of petrichor too. A stellar nose.

In the mouth: Electric, full, super-flavoursome delivery. Fairly close to dry – certainly drier than the two before it – with a light, moreish, pithy brush of tannin and beautiful, ripe, yellow-green acidity. Again the sense is of woodland drenched in citrus; more grapefruit, bitter lime. But partway through the mid-palate the greenery cracks and gives way to ripe lemon and ripe pear.

In a nutshell: So expressive. So clear and clean and full. Serve by the sea with bowls of nuts and olives and charcuterie. Wow.

Cwm Maddoc Knapper 2022 – review

How I served: Very lightly chilled. 45 mins out of fridge.

Appearance: Much darker. Very dark for perry. Amber really. Similar mousse to others.

On the nose: Oh now. I have no knowledge of Knapper. I don’t know how deep or phenolic it is meant to be. But if this were another pear, or from another producer I’d wonder if there was something off here – it’s just hard to say exactly what. There’s a super-ripe – perhaps over-ripe – tropical mango aspect, then some barnyard, old wood, mulchy leaves, leather. Which sounds a bit Flakey Bark, but here there isn’t the definition and vividness. It smells ‘bruised’, somehow. A little heavy and dull beside its stablemates.

In the mouth: It’s a big, weighty palate, but so much so that it feels a bit too heavy – it doesn’t have the structure – the acid or tannin that the others have in varying degrees for freshness and balance. Those barnyard, animal, mulchy aromas have carried through – there are tones here that in some quarters would bring out the word ‘funky’. Finish feels fairly similar, fairly heavy and almost a little stale somehow. The fruit is slightly heavy; just not quite fresh.

In a nutshell: I’m not sure quite what to make of this. Some may – likely will – love its depth and idiosyncrasy. But I’m afraid it’s not for me – I’m so sorry!

Conclusions

I shouldn’t start with the negative, but since I’ve never had a Cwm Maddoc I didn’t like before and since I’ve never had Knapper previously, I was a little stumped. Is it simply a variety I’m not a fan of? An anomalous point from an otherwise unimpeachable producer?

I had a glance at ‘Pears of Gloucester and Perry Pears of the Three Counties’ by the brilliant Charles Martell which suggested this variety varies wildly in its ripeness – even within one vintage – and can go over very quickly indeed. I’ve personally sorted with Cwm Maddoc, so I know their meticulousness first hand, but perhaps this was an unfamiliar fruit that somehow ‘got away’. I’m now desperate to try another single variety Knapper just to find out.

That aside, to the positives, which are galactic. If I say that the Betty Prosser is my least favourite of the other three, I mean that very much in the way that Andy Murray was a less good tennis player than Federer, Nadal and Djokovic. By any sensible measure it is still phenomenal.

I went back and forth again and again between the Moorcroft and the Turner’s Barn as to which was my favourite, and I think the Moorcroft just edges it on penalties. Both are superb and on another day I might prefer the Turner’s Barn. But that Moorcroft really is a glorious example of one of my favourite varieties, perfectly executed. The headline is that all three are stupendous perries and absurd bargains which you should absolutely buy if you can.

The other headline remains, as ever, that Hollow Ash deserve the sort of billing given to the UK’s very best producers, as that is the category in which they sit. It is actively infuriating to think of products sometimes twice the price that are either faulty or simply not in the same league, but which sell more quickly and get more online praise. I remain baffled by the relative lack of media attention and social media hype. Is it the labels? The fact they’re not champagne method? Or simply that they actively avoid the limelight? I’ve no idea – and perhaps I should just shut up so I can hoard more Cwm Maddoc for myself. But it is this kind of quality that can elevate cider and perry in the mind of the curious drinker. It deserves to be known about, tasted and shared. For that matter, if perry is to have a real future, it probably needs to be.