The press sells cider from their own orchard, but I’ll have to take a second trek back –in the afternoon, thank god– when the store is open. Rather than hanging around and coveting other people’s cider, we took a drive in the country to take advantage of the foggy morning and snap some more photos:
We dragged ourselves out of bed extra early yesterday morning so I could relive a childhood autumn ritual. By the time we arrived at Suter’s Cider Press, cars and trucks packed full of apples were lined up in the pre-dawn fog, waiting their turn to feed homegrown apples into the vintage cider press for a winter’s worth of apple cider.
While I showed up with no apples in tow, the crisp autumn air and aroma of fresh cider brought back all those wonderful memories of a day of picking apples in my grandmother’s little orchard. Early in the morning (after a breakfast of the sugar stuffed cereal that my mother rarely bought, but grandma could always be convinced to add to the cart), we’d pile in her apple-filled truck and join the line at Suter’s.
Very little has changed since then–though I swear the barn was twice the size last time I visited!
Apples are fed up into the press…
…and the pulp is discarded in a wagon beside the building.
Then employees funnel the cider into 1 gallon containers, and flush the tank before the next customer’s batch.
And finally, gallon after gallon of apple cider to take home and mull, spike, or freeze for a winter treat.
Do you have any favorite childhood autumn memories or rituals? My other favorite (which I think I’ll skip recreating) was jumping into crisp fallen leaves, raked together in a big pile in the yard.