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How to Make (Kind of) Traditional Perry

October 9, 2012 · by Oliver Gray

Perry : Pears :: Cider : Apples

Don’t you just love fruit and alcohol analogies presented using symbolic logic? I know I do. Oh, you don’t? Well this post ain’t gonna get any less logical. Or Symbolic. Or analogic. Yea, that last one isn’t a real word.

Some of you may remember that I made Pear Mead/Cider last year, and it turned out deliciously potent. The same generous lady who gave me a bucket-o-pears last year has given me a box-o-pears this year. I decided to do something a little different, foregoing the honey completely this time for a 100% fruit based beverage.

Last go-round, I juiced the pears using a food processor, which accidentally caused the fruit to prematurely oxidize, which I have since learned is a bad thing, which I have since learned should be avoided if you want your finished product to actually taste good, which I have since learned is an important characteristic of things people want to put into their mouths.

This go-round, I decided to get all Amish on the pears and crush them under the immense wooden weight of a manual fruit press!

I am fortunate to live very near Maryland Homebrew, who offer cider press rentals for a mere $15 for three days.

Note: A 50lb cider press does not fit into a Mini Cooper S very easily.

Paring pairs of pears in a press.

How to Brew Perry (Pear Cider)

Things you’ll need:

  • ~30lbs of pears (ripe but not rotten, easily squishable with a strong grip)
  • A fermentation bucket (5 gallons or bigger, for best results)
  • A hammer (you’ll see why in a bit)
  • A cider press (to squish them there fruits)
  • A can opener (you’ll [also] see why in a bit)
  • A large mash pot (to catch the juice)
  • Cider or wine yeast (unless you want 5 gallons of pear juice instead of cider)
  • Campden Tablets (in case you need to stabilize your batch)
  • Beer! (or cider!)

Step 1: Mash up the pears

The kind and helpful staff at Maryland Homebrew suggested that I mash up my pears before trying to press them. Overestimating my Herculean strength and Odyssian ingenuity, I figured I could just use tools and brainpower to juice the pears without going through the trouble of turning them into pulp first.

As usual, I was wrong.

So, I hit them with a hammer.

Stop, hammer time, etc.

This is an incredibly messy and fun process. Just spread out a tarp (or a series of plastic bags) and smash them there pears like they are your work computer right after it crashes in the middle of that huge document you’ve been working on for 6 hours straight.

Hopefully the pears are ripe enough that a few good thwacks will turn them into pear-puree. If not, you’ll be hammering for a while. Have fun with that.

Once you’ve got a big soggy heap of pear parts, drop them in your press.

Science!

Step 2: Supplement

At this point, you’ll realize that you don’t really have enough pears for the amount of juice you wanted to make a 5 gallon batch of perry. Short of going to find a local pear tree, your options are limited. I opted to harness the power of the industrial-culinary complex, and bought cans and cans of pear, floating in 100% pear juice.

If you buy store-brand, you can usually get cans for ~$1 a piece, and they contain a pair of pears with about 10 ounces of juice.

Open them things up. You can use the hammer again if you want, but a can opener might be a little less dangerous. Pour the extra juice into your mash pot to add even more sugar for your hungry, hungry yeast.

Not as visceral as hammer-opened cans, but much more elegant.

Step 3: Juice!

Now you can finally set to juicing the pile of fruit you’ve got sitting out on your back deck, exposed to the air and bugs and falling acorns. The style of press I used had a ratcheting handle that attached to two half-circles of wood that applied consistent downward pressure on the fruit. It was surprisingly effective, but also very labor intensive. I sweat despite the chilly weather.

I was genuinely surprised at how much liquid came out of these pears. I collected nearly 2.5 gallons after I had pressed and mixed the pears three times. I added this to my fermentation bucket, but realized I still needed a lot more liquid to get a full 5 gallon batch.

Pressed Pear Cake, coming this fall to Martha Stewart Living.

Step 4: Supplement again!

Don’t add water to your juice to get the volume you want, this will only (shocker!) water down the flavors. Instead, you can either 1) add unpasteurized apple cider (often found in the produce aisle during the fall months) or 2) use 100% pear juice (often found in 32 ounces bottles in the baby food aisle). The prior has more sugar for your yeast but will obviously add some apple flavor to the final product, the second has been clarified which can impact the final flavor as well.

I split the difference and used a little bit of both. Once you’ve reach 5 gallons, toss in your yeast and seal the bucket. Unlike beer, the airlock may not bubble like a mad science experiment. Don’t worry if it doesn’t. Every few days peak inside the bucket to make sure the yeast looks like it is doing its thing. You’ll be able to tell by the gross brown sediment that lines the bucket as the yeast eats up all of the sugar.

Congratulations! You’ve now got a batch of 100% fruit perry that will be ready to drink in 4-6 weeks.

Note: If the batch smells a little odd, or really yeasty, you can toss a few campden tablets into the bucket to make sure no nasty bacteria ruin your hard work.

Pear Cider-Mead: The Bottling

December 15, 2011 · by Oliver Gray

Tis the season for bad sweaters, spiked soy egg nog, misteltoe, and 50’s era Christmas music that has yet to be bested.

It’s also time I bottled the cider-mead! It’s been bubbling in my kitchen for just under three months, and I think it’s time to let it age in smaller bottles.

Mmmm.

I’ve sampled the goods and am pleased with the result. It’s clearly more mead than it is cider, but there is a very slight effervescence that is discernible in the first sips. Using my very scientific method of guessing based on other alcohol I’ve consumed, I’d place the ABV is on the higher end, at ~15-16%. It has very little alcohol taste. If you’re not careful and swallow several large gulps of it while siphoning it into bottles, the alcohol can sneak up on you. True story.

The taste is subtle, but nice. There are soft pear tones up front and it’s slightly crisp and fruity. The smell is similar to most other meads, but as it’s a homebrew and I only decanted once, there is a very slight wine-yeast smell. The full taste is clearly mead with a strong honey finish. It tastes almost like a  pear-infused mead, and any hope of a pure cider are pretty far gone at this point.

These photos don’t quite do the color justice. It’s a very pretty opaque yellow that diffuses nicely in direct sun light. A few people have sampled it so far, and I’ve gotten positive results.

The lady who gave me the pears offered the following review:

Good – sweet but not too sweet. Clear pear flavor at first but a lot of honey taste in the body of the wine. A bit yeasty, but not in a bad way. Almost a little bit of bread and butter in the after taste, if anything. I’d give it 86/100.

For something I threw together in an afternoon, I’ll take it!

Om nom.

I’m going to play around with some other ideas, like priming some bottles to see if I can get a slightly carbonated effect. The pear flavors could make this into an excellent sparkling wine, but I don’t want to overpower the sweetness of the honey with too much of a carbonation bite. While it is drinkable and quite tasty at this point, it could probably benefit from a bit of aging, so I’ll definitely put a few bottles aside to see how they taste come spring.

I might try to do another mead (or actually a cider this time) for my next project. Any ideas?

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