St-Lô Cider

Still a cider maker. (Hey look, I’m as surprised as anyone.)

Bottle conditioning last year’s harvest.

Getting into the thick of the harvest now and my old carcass is definitely feeling every minute of it. But I’ve discovered a few new wild trees and one beautiful old orchard, thanks to some gracious friends (looking at you ) and friends of friends. Met some new farmers. Met some hogs. Eddie the sea wolf has blossomed into a top notch foraging companion.

Many thanks to my family and my business partner Marcel and my colleagues for letting me take some time out to do what I love. Not sure it’s good for my body but I think it’s good for what passes for my “soul.”

Idyll.

Mr. Stewart’s apple meadow.

It’s a beautiful time to be out on the peninsula and here’s something to make it even better. An entire afternoon of food, music and drinking in honor of cider!

Oh, yes, there’s a harvest coming. Hope I’m ready for it.

And while we’re on the subject, Bainbridge Islanders, St-Lô Cider is always on the lookout for apples - the strange, the wild, the surplus. The weird ones that you might have noticed peeking out from the woods by the roadside on your way home. The ones that pile up in your yard that you SWEAR you’re going to make into a pie this year sohelpyougod. We’ll take them. And by ‘we’ of course I mean ‘I.’ Because really it’s just me after all. I’ll come clean up under your tree and next summer I will bring you some cider by way of thanks. Let’s make stuff.

The 2023 farm cider is finally in bottles and, since the apples all grow and fall on Bainbridge Island, it seemed fitting that Bainbridge Islanders should get the first taste.

And if you don’t live on the island, do yourself a favor, hop a ferry and see what these guys are up to. Deelish.

Working on about a 90% success rate with my apple grafting this season. Mostly just transforming some larger trees into varieties that I value (or fetishize) more. Otherwise the orchard seems to be thriving in spite my worst efforts. I’m a lazy farmer. Masanobu Fukuoka liked to call himself a lazy farmer too (I’m way worse), so I keep his books close and lean into his words like scripture. The trees do their thing. And lately, by and large, the orchard is for forgetting about the restaurant for a few hours at a time.

Perfectly executed meal . My kid went easter egging for St-Lo (found it in the larder hobnobbing with the orange wines and sardines), but for me the Petite Chablis was hard to pass up. Delicious food, delightful crew. Just right. Chalk up another one for Chez Renée.

If you know, you know. And if you don’t, do yourself a favor. Michela is a master and she’s been kind enough to carry my farm cider. Go find pronto before summer and the cruise ships make Pike Place Market standing room only.

I have it on good authority that has the new, even prettier bottles of Fille de Fermier, our latest farm cider. As ever, so very honored to be featured on such an august list.

Bainbridge Island! You win again! Those fine Hitchcock folks are cracking open their latest little shop, Seabird. It’s beautiful to behold and sure to be delicious. And they’re offering a lovely farm cider made from some of your very own apples.