INTRODUCTION Rethink Cider My first experience of drinking alcohol was as a child during Christmas dinner, when I had a mouthful of cider. It was sweet, bubbly and delicious. I assumed all cider tasted like that, so as a teenager I was surprised to come across dry, still scrumpy. The day following this latter encounter was memorable for all the wrong reasons, and I''m sure that''s why countless people use the excuse ''I never touch cider, it gave me a terrible hangover when I was 15'' to avoid drinking it as adults. I have no doubt they have since felt the aftermath of other boozy sessions, but something causes them to abandon cider entirely. In Britain, where I was born, cider has a negative connection with street drinkers necking cheap industrially produced hooch from which all natural characteristics of the apple have been removed. Consequently, cider has a low value perception, and yet if more people knew that at its best it is the equivalent of fine wine, they might be more respectful. Wine is made by pressing grapes, then fermenting and maturing the juice.

Cider is made by pressing apples, then fermenting and maturing the juice. The problem is that cider has no legal definition so, as well as being artisan or farmhouse-style made of fresh apple juice, it can also be a beverage produced from a minimum of juice concentrate (in some countries from no juice at all) where water, sugar, flavourings, colourants and preservatives complete the list of ingredients and connection with an apple tree is fleeting. But good cider is sunlight in a glass, the liquid expression of the orchard''s soul. It fascinates me so much I studied to become an accredited pommelier, and by doing so entered a parallel universe known as Ciderland, a rural realm where nature rules, life is slow, and time is dictated by the growing season. In this book Ciderland refers to the places that produce minimal-intervention cider from fresh apple juice, also termed artisan, farmhouse or real cider, as opposed to cider made from juice concentrate. I wish there were individual terms for both philosophies to avoid customer confusion - ''ciderita'' for the latter perhaps? Of all alcoholic drinks, cider is the most misunderstood. A few years ago I was chatting with Susanna Forbes, co-founder of Little Pomona Cidery, and we discussed how the majority of people have no idea cider is anything other than a mass-market sweetened fizzy beverage. We agreed it would benefit from some reputation management and came up with the hashtag RethinkCider.

This has become a rallying call used by evangelists around the world to spread the good news and convert people one glass at a time. Some traditionalists are suspicious of the artisan cider movement or cider being described as wine-like. Perhaps they are concerned no-frills farmhouse cider will be threatened, but rather than diminish it, enthusing and using language familiar to wine-drinkers encourages more people to understand and appreciate real cider, and may even inspire them to travel up a leafy lane to purchase a flagon from the farmer. Each cider culture has its own distinct story, but as Britain is the world''s largest producer, parts of this book are UK-centric. Cider has a fascinating tale which cannot be told without also focusing on apples. The ancient history of apples and cider is scattered with ''maybe'', ''possibly'' and ''perhaps'' because few archaeological remains exist, and written evidence is paltry and often confusing. There is also the issue of the etymology of ''cider'', from shekar, Old Testament Hebrew for ''strong drink'', which entered Latin as sicera. Neither referred explicitly to a fermented apple drink.

There was no specific term for cider, and Roman naturalist and philosopher Pliny, when expounding on what he described as ''artificial wine'' (i.e. not from grapes), wrote that it could be made ''of all kinds of apples'', but in his time that word did not just apply to what we now classify as an apple, namely Malus pumila. Ciderland is global and exists in tracts around Britain, particularly Herefordshire, Worcestershire, Gloucestershire, Somerset, Devon, Cornwall, Kent, Sussex and Monmouthshire; Ireland; northern Spain in Asturias and the Basque Country (straddling the Spanish-French border); Normandy and Brittany in France; Germany''s Saarland and Hessen regions; and Austria. It is found in the Norwegian region of Hardangerfjord; in pockets of Sweden, Latvia, the Italian Tyrol and the Netherlands; on the Japanese island of Honshu; in the USA, especially in New Hampshire, Vermont, New York, Michigan and the Pacific Northwest; and in the Canadian provinces of Ontario and Quebec. In the southern hemisphere Ciderland is in South Africa''s Western Cape; the Australian states of Victoria, New South Wales and Tasmania, which is nicknamed Apple Isle; and it nestles within some of New Zealand''s vineyards. Depending on apple variety, traditions and methods, a panoply of cider iterations awaits, from the driest, most acidic to the unctuously sweet; rough scrumpy to barrel-aged vintage; still and sparkling; soft or firm tannins; light to full bodied; young or mature. With food it enhances a casual curry and a distinguished banquet equally.

It is a refreshing long drink, an elegant Champagne-style fizz served in a flute, or a sipping brandy after dinner. If cider were human, it would need therapy for its multiple personalities! Maybe this book will convince the not already converted to explore artisan cider and become an advocate too, in which case a paradise awaits where cider made with freshly pressed juice slowly ages in oak or chestnut barrels, and cideristas gather for good times.