Here you see the proprietor of the family-owned (and run) business, standing in front of the casks, explaining the brewing process. Their Rumrunner cider was aged in barrels that had been used for Newfoundland Screech, but the screech distillery switched to plastic barrels, which Kristen refused to use. Turns out that screech is matured in bourbon casks. So they got the empty bourbon casks, soaked them with screech, and went on from there. It tickles me to think of think of these casks going from booze to booze to booze.
The tour wasn't as visually interesting as Victoria Gin's is, because you can't go into the working area for fear of contaminating the process, and since it isn't distilling, there aren't massive steampunk-type brass and copper vats with fascinating dials and pipes.
Next is the view across the orchard, which as you can see is young yet. They also get apples from local farms, orchards, and Lifecycles (I've thought of calling them to take away the Transparents). Mark drew my attention to the degree of pruning, which he thinks I should follow. I am way too tender with pruning our apple trees (not that this is reflected in my revising of my writing, noooo....), but I have promised to be more ruthless (less ruthful?) this spring.
Anyway. Nice view. We hurried inside for warmth, but the big doors were open to the balcony and winter air. Fortunately a couple of heat lamps had been provided to huddle under, and drink tickets got us generous samples of cider, which does warm the interior.
The Island Thyme Morris Dancers (the women only) performed a series of dances, with a lot of energy and enthusiasm, and I'm a bit peeved with myself that I didn't trot up to the gallery while they were doing the sword dance that ends with the wooden swords interlocked in a star, which is carried off in triumph.
See? I did get some pics of another dance, but it isn't as spiff as the sword dance figures would have looked.
I did love their musicians, who were straight out of an English or Irish pub. I bet the fellow in the flat cap is a demon darts player.
And a traditional mummers play by the Quicksbottom Morris Dancers. Nostalgia! I was able to mutter along with several speeches, from the version of the play that we performed, gosh, over twenty years ago. We didn't have a Green Man, though, and he is pretty cool. Nor did we have a hot Witch in tall black boots.
Yes, I did buy cider, a bottle of the new Wassail, and another of Kings and Spies.
Closing with a fiddler in concentration.