Kingstone Press Cider

I picked up a bottle of this from my local Iceland on a whim. The plastic bottle ought really to have sounded alarm bells, I suppose, but one must suffer for one’s art. Besides there were claims about the cider’s origin in the Hereford part of the Malverns, which seemed worthy of investigation.

I prised the lid off the polybottle and it made a satisfying hiss, the liquid inside fizzed gently, the extent of the carbonation became apparant on pouring. The large light head foamed away to nothingness in a few seconds and I took a sip.

It was sweet. Beyond sweet. Aspartame sweet. Saccharine sweet. In short too fucking sweet. Now sweet ciders aren’t all bad, I recently rather enjoyed a pint of Gwynt Y Ddraig’s wonderful Celtic Warrior, which as a fan of dry ciders I could still recommend. With Kingstone Press, however, the sweetness had nothing of note to balance it out. Perhaps there was a hint of oakiness or the tang of a distant apple. Its hard to tell beneath the waves of sweeteners that drown out any competing flavour.

At 4.7% ABV Kingstone Press is towards the lighter end of the cder spectrum, but as the sweetness dissipates there is a definite hint of booziness left behind. It has something of a sherry whiff in the backwash. That was probably my favourite part.

The website is relatively uninformative, and contains mostly generic sounding marketing blurb wherein our author tries to repeat the mantra it’s all about the taste at least every other sentence. The copy informs us that Kingstone Press is a mouth-watering cider that delivers total refreshment. I am afraid that on this point I must differ. If it delivered anything, Kingstone Press delivered a monumental sugar rush. Incidentally the bottle claimed that the version I was drinking was the dry. I dread to think what the sweet must be like!

2012-10-07 by Charlie Harvey