Holidays, heart warmed by cider

By Nate Adams
Collegian Editor
November 14, 2007

From the decaying foliage all round us to our willful and open celebration of a holiday based on zombies, there is no denying that autumn is a cursed season. A season of death, if you will. No one in their right mind would ever call this time, in which our hemisphere begins to turn from the warmth of our mother sun, their favorite season. Still, I can’t help but love this fourth of the year and apple cider is to blame.

Ever since I was a wee little snot-nose, I have loved cider. In fact, I can remember the day I decided that cider was the drink for me. It happened while touring an apple orchard in elementary school (bear in mind, I’m from upstate New York. It’s not like we’ve got a whole lot going on up there. Philly has an art museum; Rochester has got orchards out the ass).

Anyway, the orchard was about as fun as a flu shot until they showed us the Cider Room. The Cider Room wasn’t a room as much as it was a giant metal rolling pin machine that crushed apples like Beowulf crushed skulls. Watching this metal titan destroy a metric ton of apples (have you ever heard the sound of an apple exploding? I have, it rules), I came to the same conclusion any grade school student would; apple cider is the most badass drink ever.

Since that day, I’ve been hooked. As soon as the leaves begin to turn, I rush out to the nearest grocer and get myself as much cider as I can carry. Someday, when I have the disposable income to do silly things, I’ll buy enough cider to stock up for an entire year, because three months is just not enough.

Apple cider is the king of the seasonal drinks. Sure, a glass of cool lemonade can taste great on a spring stroll, but that tart pretender has got nothing on the awesome power of apple. Folks like to kick back with Corona in the summer time, but a hard cider has got just as much booze and twice the patriotism as that Mexican fire-water. I admit, hot chocolate has got the market cornered on marshmallows, but a hot apple cider will never have gross granules of apple at the bottom of it, and it won’t coat your tongue with a gross chocolate film for the rest of the day. Not to mention, apple cider doesn’t need the aid of candy to make it delicious.

And don’t even bring up eggnog with me. If you are drinking what is essentially vodka and omelet batter, you are either a world class chump or living in Cold War era Russia.

Great served at any time, at any temperature, and with the ability to put whiskey-like warmth in a belly with no hangover the next day, apple cider is obviously the ambrosia of the gods. As Thanksgiving approaches and my cider deadline nears, I can only count my pennies and ration my cider supply and pray I can make it to Christmas before I have to wait another three-quarters of a year for my fix.

But until then, I raise my glass to my favorite brown beverage. Here’s to you, apple cider.

adamsn1@lasalle.edu