It wouldn’t be September on Cider Review without a lovely collective coming-together of thoughts and impressions from our writers that attended the annual Ross Cider Festival, lovingly known as RossFest. We’ve covered the 2019 Festival, the 2021 Festival Releases, the 2022 Festival, the 2023 Festival and its Releases, the 2024 Festival and its Releases, and the 2025 Festival. In short, you can tell that we’re fans here at Cider Review of all that the Johnson family and friends put on for cider & perry aficionados at the end of August/start of September every year. Five of us made it over this year: here are the things that inspired us over the weekend and beyond!

Adam’s Festival Reflections

And so, the countdown to Rossfest begins again. (2nd to 5th September 2027; mark your calendars). At this point, having written these debriefs for how long now? Four years? Five? I don’t really know what paeans I can offer that I haven’t already.

It is still the event of any sort that I look forward to most in the year. It is still, by some mileage, the best event in the international cider calendar. It is still the event that makes me feel the most immersed in cider culture, and even if I taste more different ciders at Cidercon or possibly Ciderworld, it is at Rossfest that I feel closest to what I’m tasting. (And I taste almost as many different ciders as I do at those other two anyway).

The opening night tasting, of the Festival Special Releases, is still by far the best and most interesting sit-down cider tasting of the year. (I enjoyed the slight step-change I felt in this year’s releases, incidentally; a particular focus on rare and unusual varieties alongside the oak cask blockbusters. Barland, Raison and Somerset Redstreak my top three, for what it’s worth, but all deserve your attention and money).

The evenings are still the best, if the most ruthless the day after. They are still the times I feel most anchored within the community, and most blessed in the friends I have made within it and the new friends I make every year, even if my social batteries seem punier with each passing vintage. The talks and tastings are the most fun, relaxed, unexpected and attention grabbing – where else would a Calvados tasting be followed by a cider and crisps pairing and a New York ciders exploration? Certainly nowhere at which they are held next to a free longsword fighting experience.

The food is still gorgeous, phenomenal, dangerously inducing of gluttony, from the legendary Broome Farm sausage rolls to slow-cooked goat from Hancock’s Meadow and a Panang curry that coruscated with dizzying flavour and spice. The dog show is still an hour of sheer joy, and if Ultimate Recall was missed this year, perhaps it was Rossfest’s deliberately-misplaced stitch, because everything else was still perfect.

Others will write more eloquently, as they always do, as we do every year, of the dozens of ciders available on draught and in bottle – a selection that beggars both belief and every cider bar in the UK. They will talk of the dozens more – there must have been at least a hundred open – that they tasted at the Top Barn Share on Friday morning, and of the clanking boxfuls they bought from the maker’s stall the next day. They will report on sitting on benches with friends or alone for a moment in the blissful faint buzz of an orchard’s row. Perhaps they went on expeditions to visit pear trees, perhaps they danced to every one of the Bottom Barn Bands. Whatever their report, it will be a dazzling encomium because there is nothing in the world like Rossfest, and I hope everyone involved knows how magical a thing it is that they have made.

We have written the same thing every year, and every year the festival has improved and we have written again more glowingly still. And I worry – as I often do – that we are writing into an echo chamber, because this year ticket sales were slower, and it makes me sad and almost a little annoyed.

I understand that there are reasons that cider lovers might not come to Rossfest. Perhaps you have children and term has started. Perhaps you live in another country. Perhaps you have a phobia of dogs or an allergy to tents.

But I do not understand how, if you love cider and if none of the above is true, you could have heard of Rossfest and chosen never to come. And if that is you, and you are reading this, I cannot urge you enough to book a ticket for next year’s edition and find yourself, as I have every year, at an event like nothing else you will experience in the drinks industry. Those few, swift, golden days in the crook of cider’s soul.  

Brett’s Festival Experiences

I said earlier this year, after tasting through the bottles that Albert had bought to the London Cider Salon, that I thought it was one of the strongest line-ups I’d tasted from them, and after the traditional Thursday night Cider club dinner that kicks off RossFest, I’ve no doubt they’re on an absolute roll with their new releases. I have to confess though that outside the festival, Ross ciders have previously not been a go-to for me, mainly by virtue of scarcity of availability in Somerset, bar the odd bottle of Raison in my local bottle shop or a bottle appearing in my box of the Fine Cider Company’s Pommelier Club. Or of course stocking up while I’m actually there. But with the recent and rather sad shuttering of Aeble meaning my subscription came to an end, I decided to sign up to the Ross Cider Crew club box, so for the past two months I’ve been sampling more Ross cider than ever before. Maybe I’m being biased then or maybe I’m just a bit more au fait, but seriously, they’re on a roll!

After listening to the latest episode of the Cider Voice podcast on the drive up on Thursday afternoon, it seemed rude not to immediately kick things off with a glass of Stang Ru, given the one and only 20 litre keg of it was bound to sell out sooner rather than later. And while I know dry ciders are what Ross are all about, and I don’t know how much Albert will appreciate me saying so, but when they do venture into sweeter territory on things like the Stang Ru, the new vintage of Thorn perry (one of the 8 new releases showcased at the dinner) and likewise the secret cider on tap (that Albert wastes no time in revealing is White Jersey), they provide a welcome contrast and are no less sublime than their dryer counterparts.

Barland seems, by general consensus, to be the highlight bottle of the Thursday night. Zesty traditional lemonade on the nose with a stone fruit like softness and hint of dried fig in the mouth, it’s delicious. But I have to be contrarian and say I think the Saycell’s Unknown perry just pipped it for me as my favourite of the night, a straight up proposition of pear skin and vanilla with undertones of whole nutmeg and demerara sugar, it’s one I enjoyed revisiting over the weekend. The new Raison d’ Être continues again to surpass its predecessor as my new favourite vintage. Immediately more wine like on the nose than any previous iterations, it opens up to something with big oaked Cali Chardonnay vibes albeit with a range of dark notes like bitter orange pith, cocoa nibs, coconut husk and coffee grounds: it’s unlike what’s come before.

Highlights of the weekend were Kris Kazaks’ talk on New York ciders on Saturday afternoon after meeting by happenstance on Friday at the bottle share, which led to chatting our respective backgrounds along with all things Cider Review. A regular joy of the festival to meet someone you ‘know’ without necessarily knowing. Kris is a wonderfully engaging speaker, so the talk itself was amazingly informative and the ciders themselves injecting some welcome acid into the drinks proceedings. The second was receiving an unexpected message from Lena of Köpings in Sweden who I’d met out in Norway at the Bergen Bobler at the start of August, which led to me meeting up with her, her daughter, and business partner Johanna for a few hours of tasting our way around the guest producers together, talking Swedish cider and revisiting our experiences of Norway. Again, it’s a testament to the festival that it draws such a regular international crowd that you truly never know who you might bump into, which always adds a little magic to the weekend.

After a month of working pretty solidly on lots of cider related things, a weekend away at a cider festival might not have seemed like the best idea for a getaway let alone allow me to relax, but as always, the weekend is over far, far too soon, and Ross Fest has managed to leave me once again excited and recharged. As always, a massive thank you to Albert and the whole team for continuing to make this a highlight of our calendar.

Anna’s Festival Experiences

I’m so glad I first visited Broome Farm when the blossom was just breaking on to the perry trees. All this bounty seems almost comical when I remember the mostly bare trees back when I came in early April, when spring was still in two minds about coming back.

On the Saturday, I spotted just how close the National Perry Pear Centre is to Ross. Less than half an hour’s drive. I start navigating around the orchards… only to clock a few minutes in that the map is actually of Great Malvern, miles away. Freed from any deep understanding of where I actually am, I just wander about. 

I particularly enjoy the spectacle of many-eyed potatoes seeming to abandon the soil to start a new life growing on trees… as pears. This variety really does look like spuds.

At the bottle share, micro-local geographies join up. A gorgeous, unknown variety 2024 Little Cross (named after where it was picked) Huffcap that was like appleskin crumble turned into juice was brought by an amateur maker (I didn’t write down the name!) living right near Meggy’s Cyder in Monmouthshire. 

Astonishingly, the two had never met, despite picking fruit a pip’s throw apart. This wasn’t even the only pair of makers who seemed to pass each other by and only discover their nearness here. It was fun to drink beside its neighbour Meggy’s keeved Neithdar Perllan 2025, which almost ices the tongue in powdered-sugar raspberries and red apple skin. I should not have stayed a full two hours before Adam Wells’s Calvados tasting. Great fun but my palate was quite played out.

Perhaps it’d be too gimmicky to include a potato pear perry in a crisp tasting lineup. But if anyone’s brave enough to do it, who could say no? Rachel Hendry’s snack extravaganza was past capacity and standing room only, the opposite of crisp packets that seem full and then open up to reveal a lot of air. 

It could be Rachel Hendry’s infectious way of framing food pairing (do you want to create sweet harmonies or send your pair into battle with each other?). Maybe it felt like a collaborative effort because Hendry herself hadn’t tried each Two Farms flavour with its accompanying cider, so we could play with her logic and pairing intuitions against our personal tastes. It’s a delight attending a tasting where almost everyone will have loved and eaten crisps for years and years, with their own idiosyncrasies about particular flavours. It felt like people were especially willing to share their thoughts on each choice in a way that was so enjoyable to be part of. 

Mushroom and garlic crisps with petal-fragrant, marshmallow on a stick Saycell’s Unknown perry make me think I’ve been underdoing floral x umami combinations (the petals can take it!). I wonder if the greenness of chive or spring onion instead of garlic could work even better (there will never be enough types of allium in the crisp aisle for me). I didn’t get a chance to try very many of the new RossFest releases except through the lens of crisps, the persimmonish Secret Cider (sssh, it’s White Jersey) with Herefordshire Sauce was a particular hit with me. Do I just love the drama of mysterious drinks?

My takeaway is I am absolutely pairing my next spicy, peachy glass of orange wine with a packet of complex, fun-loving prawn cocktail crisps. I’m also wondering what would work well with the pleasing range of quince drinks brought to the Ross bottle share. Maybe some fancy olive crisps, to draw out the rosy lushness with extra fat?

Kris’s Festival Experiences

I first attended in 2021, the year I became involved in cider professionally. Since then, the amalgamation of good times that is Ross Fest has become a regular item in my annual calendar: the Thursday cider club, the orchard camping, the bottle shares and many, many cider and perry tastings, the food, the excellent live music, and not least the extraordinary cider community that gathers there. (“At the end of the day it’s all about the fans”, as they say in sports).

This year I almost struggle to pull out specific highlights or bottles. The weekend becomes a wash of next pours and good vibes; a shower of fine cider and perry and camaraderie that soaks you for days, celebrating past harvests and setting the stage for the next. From restorative quiet moments alone in a distant orchard block, to excited conversations of cider nerdery competing with live bands and shanties; it’s truly an excellent holiday weekend, especially with this year’s perfect dry and sunny weather.

In terms of liquids tasted I’ll just highlight the two I drank the most of, both new Ross releases: the truly fine 2025 Barland Perry, elegant and crisp and versatile; and the moreish apple leather stone fruity 2025 Styre Wilding Cider. Albert and team continue to impress with both the quality of their range, and the joy of discovering new and rare varieties.

In the spirit of exploring new varieties, this year I was inspired to share some of my favourite American examples. Just as most Americans never get the opportunity to taste a perry from Rob Castle, or an off-dry cider from Artistraw, Britons would likely never get to taste any output from the many tiny but fine producers in my area. Albert was kind enough to give me time in the talks tent to present four such New York ciders featuring American varieties:

• Heartsby True Cider – Homestead #3 2024 (Harrison, Whitney Crab, Black Twig, Chestnut Crab)
• Scrumpy Ewe Cider- Stonecutter 2025 (Golden Russet, Wickson, Franklin, Dabinett)
• Sylvan Farm and Cidery – Harvest Hymn 2024 (100% wild foraged apples)
• Eve’s Cidery – Wickson Single Variety 2024

The turnout was such that I did not get a chance to taste along with the crowd! Perhaps others will offer their experience from the tasting. Suffice it to say my point was to display that while American apple varieties are in fact more acid-driven than tannin driven as with fruit from the West Counties and Normandy, they offer a delicious range of flavour and structure and blending possibilities, nonetheless. We are lucky to be drinkers in a time where truly aspirational cider can now be found in many corners of the world, using new world fruit as well as old. I think it’s fair to say we’ve put to rest any controversy stemming from recent hasty and unfair commentary on a certain podcast…

Cannot wait for the next Ross Fest!

Jack’s Festival Experiences

I had the best few days at RossFest, surrounded by great company and superlative drinks. The catalytic effect it offers up to kick-start the harvest season is so important to me. Once again, I could be found on the bar from early evening to close, and a massive shout-out to Helen for their sterling organisational skills this year behind the bar – we had a new till system, more space to move and serve, and a map of where the bottles could be found in the stacks of boxes you will have seen standing tall behind the bar space. It really is a privilege to get to serve everyone at this festival. Some bars you visit late at night and you’ll notice a prevalence of miserable, dour, drunks. Not RossFest! Happy, smiling faces from open to close (I’m not exaggerating). I loved my new gang of buddies at the table for the opening night Cider Club. It was a smattering of Leicestershire, Nottinghamshire, Herefordshire, and Norfolk, lots of funny anecdotes as we worked our way through the assembled bottles on show. From the lively White Norman; elegant Barland; wistful Saycell’s Unknown; to this year’s Autumn cider and Raison d’Etre 2024 releases, there was something for every palate on offer.

Styre Wilding, Stang Ru, Ashton Brown Jersey, and 4 different vintages of Raison d’Etre on tap! There is no other bar in the UK where you’ll find this variety of cider and perry on offer. It’s inspirational. I love that for these few days I can casually answer the question of “what perries do you have?” with a response of “three or four on tap, and a further 10 in bottle”. It’s bonkers and brilliant at the same time. Saturday also featured a landmark moment in the form of Artistraw selling their first ever kegged-cider from their stall. I went for a half of single variety Bisquet – it was absolutely beautiful! I hope a number of festivals in the coming months take more key-keg from producers in this way.

In previous years, I’ve forced myself to get up and get out in the day, to see the local area, go for a swim, that kind of thing. This year I visited orchards in Longhope, Kempley, and Hellen’s Manor, with my friends Matt Smith and Geoff Newman. On a bit of a magical mystery tour to track down the trees that feature in Luckwill & Pollard’s Perry Pears book. Amazingly, and against all odds, some of the trees that stare out at you in black & white form, photos from the 1950s and 1960s, are still there, weathering away, producing fruit. Others, like the Late Treacle at Knap Farm, Kempley, are long gone. The local farmer there helped us find the recess in the ground where the tree used to stand. I said to Geoff and the farmer it felt similar to visiting battlefields in Northern France, the sites of fallen trees, long since departed, parts of them returned to the soil. We were all sadly 60 years too late to see this particular Late Treacle tree still standing.

Tom Oliver took my friend Amy and I out to view the mature Coppy tree at redacted. After being blindfolded and bundled into the boot of Tom’s car at gunpoint…OK, fact check, back to reality, Tom graciously drove us out to see the Coppy tree and what a treat lay in stall for us. The old lady was laden with fruit. Tom said he’d seen her like this only once before in the years that he’s been harvesting from this particular orchard. A very positive sign after the intense summer sunshine and lack of rain we’ve had this year. Hopefully there’ll be enough fruit for several barrels of single variety Coppy from Oliver’s Cider & Perry this year. I liked Tom’s point that most of these now giant, ancient perry pear trees were never planted to be this size, with all the awkwardness attributed to fruit falling from 20 metres up in the canopy. Back when they were planted, the local landowners would have dealt with trees much more similar to the size and shape that you can now see at the National Perry Pear Collection at Hartpury and Malvern. In the 2020s, with our specifically shorter lifespans, we are so lucky to experience them at this end of their life story, when we’re the ants and they’re the giants. 

On the final day of the festival, getting to meet John Tieser, the Museum of Cider’s Conservator of Fruit for the late Gillian Bulmers’ library orchards, was profound. He believes at long last he’s located a Late Treacle pear tree, and seeing it now in late summer, with a little bit of fruit still on the tree, I have to say, I’m inclined to believe him. DNA test results show it as unique to the database (what you want when tracking down lost varieties), the leaves look the same, the blossom has that pink tinge in Spring, the growing habit of the tree is near identical to that of the one in the Luckwill & Pollar Perry Pears book, and the fruit looks just like Durham’s photos. Some things stay lost, and others get found again. Albert said something quite profound that linked into this thought at Thursday night’s Cider Club when referencing Styre Wilding and lots of the single variety releases at Ross. By grafting these varieties on to new rootstock or top-worked trees, then using the fruit year-on-year for bottlings, these cider apple and perry pear trees have been brought back from the very cusp of oblivion. For some varieties, one more harsh winter, a resurgence of fireblight, or an over-eager housing development, and it’s curtains, farewell, bonne nuit.  For the lucky ones, those that move into the orbit of Ross-on-Wye Cider & Perry company, it’s sanctuary and safety for another generation. Thank you for another great RossFest!