I wish I knew more about the cider apple variety Brown Snout. There, I’ve said it out loud (and then written it down). I can visualise it: yellowish-green in colour, with a russeted patch around the eye of the apple. I’ve read that it’s a late season bittersweet apple. I could tell you the names of a few folk in the cider world that love the variety: Albert, Adam, and Justin on the Cider Voice podcast often wax-lyrical about it. I’ve even tried a number of single varieties from Ross Cider over the years. But, and this is the slightly embarrassing fact to reveal, when it comes to describing the inherent flavours of Brown Snout, I’m somewhat flummoxed. Perhaps it’s like a number of fans who attended Taylor Swift’s current Eras tour all saying they can’t remember large parts of the concert, it’s just a blank spot in their mind. Could it be that such is the level of excitement when a new Brown Snout cider comes out that I try it, enjoy it, and completely blank out its qualities and characteristics in my mind? I could not tell you with 100% certainty what it tastes of, or at the very least, what some common notes are you should be looking out for.

This would not be the case with, for instance, Foxwhelp, Dabinett, Yarlington Mill, Bramley, Discovery, Major, Ellis Bitter, perhaps a few others. The synapses have been fired up and connecting points fused together in nosing and tasting memory for these varieties that I could hazard a pretty good guess at their inclusion in a cider. As of now, Brown Snout enacts a figurative cloaking device when travelling within range of my olfactory senses, and I do so wish it would open up and reveal itself to me. Its susceptibility to fire blight means we might not get to try much more of it in the harvests to come, so I’d really like to get to know it a bit better before its genetics get withered and wilted out of existence by that blasted bacterial disease. This is all to say that one of the three ciders reviewed today contain Brown Snout cider, but the way I went about reviewing it was more a process of deduction in the overall flavour profile (I knew what I was looking for with Dabinett). It’s a novel way to review a drink, but I’d be far happier having a bank of descriptors in my mind for this variety.

Flitting between the Firth of Forth and the Isle of Harris, Linn Cider are establishing themselves firmly in the UK Cider scene as Scottish cidermakers of note. We’ve covered them here on Cider Review with a cidermaker profile (A Sherry Butt Sat Wistfully Gazing) and a joint bottle review by Adam and myself (From the Barrel to the Bottle). When Linn’s Jack Arundell reached out to me to see if I was interested in reviewing two of their new releases, the answer was an instant YES! What also arrived in the parcel was an example of some very early work that Jack did, pre-Linn days, with Christian Masters of Dour Cider. Adam previously reviewed this bottling back in 2022 as part of his epic Eleven ciders and a perry from Scotland article, so I’m excited to see how it’s tasting now in 2024. I’m not sure what the state of play is with Dour Cider right now (please do reach out and let me know), but a few of their bottles are still available online at the bottle shop Pullo. My thanks to Jack for providing the bottles to review – it always feel a real honour when cidermakers reach out on this front. Some of the reviews I’ve put out on here come to me as thematic ideas, perhaps documenting a snapshot of a season, and others are quite random and serendipitous. That’s the joy of writing for Cider Review! Onto the reviews at hand.

Linn Cider Pet Nat 2022 – review

A blend of apples and pears from Edinburgh and Fife

How I Served It: An hour in the fridge then out in the balcony for 10mins in the evening sun.

Appearance: There’s effervescent life in this pet nat cider for sure! The glass (and the remainder of the liquid in the bottle) are presenting like a natural spring of delicious cider, gurgling up from the depths below/bottom of the glass. Colour-wise I’d say a lemon and orange marmalade, with the slightest of hazes to it all, that moment where the dew evaporates off the morning grass at the start of a hot day.

On the nose: I’m initially getting that lovely prickle of popping bubbles as I pull my nose closer to inspect. A discrete aroma emerging, clean and crisp, slight petrichor, wet slate notes, raspberry leaves, maybe a slight wood chip note. Apple tree-filled allotments after the rain.

On the palate: The apples and pears used most definitely carry with them some acidity which is making itself known. This isn’t a thin drink by any means. Using that sherry butt as the fermentation vessels has imparted a good deal of mouthfeel to the drink, but I wouldn’t say overtly spirity, more an oaky tannin. Astringency presenting itself on the sides of the cheeks after each sip. Bone dry and juicy, just how I like it.

In a nutshell: A Pet Nat co-ferment that performs. There’s sparkle enough to twitch the eyebrows of the most hardened still cider drinker out there!

Linn Cider Cullaloe 2021 – review

A blend of Brown Snout and Dabinett from the 2021 harvest.

How I Served It: An hour in the fridge then 15 mins to acclimatise to room temperature.

Appearance: The love child of Irn Bru and an orange marmalade. 99% still but for the thinnest rim of mantle appearing at the top of the liquid, giving it a cider total eclipse appearance from the bird’s eye view. Slight viscosity to the liquid too, particularly as it pours from the bottle to the glass.

On the nose: It’s time for Confession, and by that I mean a big ol’ Catholic Church full of incense and oak furnishings! The Sherry butts and Madeira barrels used to ferment and then slumber the Brown Snout and Dabinett are working in harmony here. Bit of a leather polish note right at the back of it all.

On the palate: You’re opening up the cupboard in your kitchen that contains all the herbs and spices, out falls the allspice, mace, star anise, liquorice root. It’s all here, but juicer than you would expect from something so delightfully dry. I don’t get to try half enough Brown Snout SVCs to know enough about it as a varietal, but the interplay between this as the dominant apple in the blend, alongside the Dabinett, is sublime.

In a nutshell: One for the full juice cider aficionados in the room! I need to plant a Brown Snout apple tree in the orchard now !

Dour Cider No. 2 – review

A blend of Stoke Edith Pippin, Herrings Pippin, Emneth Early, St. Cecilia and more!

How I Served It: Day in the fridge, then straight out onto the balcony.

Appearance: Still by name, and it’s still still by nature 3 years on from bottling. Shiny lemon gold appearance, great clarity.

On the nose: I’m getting a very faint vanilla raspberry ripple ice cream note here, which I was not necessarily expecting from a blend of culinary and dessert apples aged in an oak cask! Slight whiff of Barr Drinks’ Limeade, but subtle.

On the palate: There’s enough malic acid at play here from the culinary apples in the blend to give it a good body alongside that pleasant barrel note. It doesn’t befall the fate of some dessert apple blends that fall apart on the palate (if generalising here, many do work, think Egremont Russet). Again, that vanilla and lime note lingers on the back of the palate. Really rather tasty.

In a nutshell: For fans of Linn Cider’s output this is a must try – it’s like a director’s early work as a special feature on a BluRay release of your favourite film.

Conclusions

A match made in heaven with that Dabinett and Brown Snout blend! This is like the box of Black Magic chocolates your Nan gets out when she enters serious grandparenting mode. Definitely one to pair with punchy flavours in a meal (game, garlic-heavy vege stews) or just to be savoured on its own for all its glorious shadows, flickers, and whisps of elegant flavours. It’s great when a drink can inspire you to plant a tree next winter. Let’s just hope this bit of West Norfolk I call home is fire blight free.

Fantastic to also enjoy a Pet Nat apple-pear co-ferment, and one that you don’t loose half the bottle’s contents on the kitchen ceiling – this was just the right level of fizz…the pear juice added to the juice in the bottle has worked a treat. Immaculate presentation as ever with Linn. I was on my balcony drinking this in the evening sun, but it could just as easily sit on a table of a great independent restaurant. It’s shouting out to be paired with smoked scallops and mash!

Looking at the Dour collaboration between Christian and Jack: a real statement of intent from the pair. Coincidentally, I live 7 miles away from the small fenland village of Emneth, where the early culinary apple Emneth Early originated. To see it as a constituent part in this Scottish cider blend really tickles me!

If you find yourself up in Scotland for the second half of 2024, seek out Linn Cider in a restaurant or bottle shop – you won’t be disappointed. And, if you’re very lucky, you might find one of their elusive magnum presentations – enough liquid there to keep everyone happy around the campfire as the sun slowly sets.