Mulling Over Cider

About author / Sarah Christine Bolton

Coffee addict; professional food writer; food fusion. Her slow cooker recipes go above and beyond your normal crockpot fare.

When I was younger, my brothers and sister and I would combat the effects of cabin fever during the long Northern winters by spending every possible hour outside sledding. Our driveway was steep enough to provide ample speed, but not so steep that we were at risk of a kamikaze run into the garage door. The best conditions for sledding included a heavy snowfall, a warm day so the snow just started to melt, and then a quick freeze overnight. The result was a thin layer of ice that would have been deadly to old bones, but was just perfect for our sled runners.

Besides sledding, we also spent many hours building snow forts. One day, my parents went to town and left us with instructions to do our schoolwork and chores. By the time they had barely disappeared over the hill, we were pulling on snow boots and jackets, fighting over gloves, and stomping up the hill. Within just a few minutes, we constructed a snow fort that could have rivaled the Great Wall of China. We built up our snowball stockpiles. War was imminent.

But before we could declare it, we happened to look down the valley, and saw our parents’ car slowly creeping up the back roads, coming home early. Panicked, we tore for the front door, leaving snow clothing scattered all over the floor. Barely before we slid into our chairs, picked up our pencils, and slapped a look of deep concentration onto our foreheads, mom and dad walked in. “Thank you guys for doing what we asked,” they said. We nodded, feeling a bit guilty. One glance outside at the glory of our snow fortress removed the guilt and sent us into stifled giggles.

After several hours of trudging through the snow, we would come into the house absolutely famished. My mom used to throw a roast, potatoes, and veggies into the crockpot, turn it on in the morning, and let it sit until we were ready to eat. We would crowd around the crockpot, spooning meat and potatoes into our bowls, and soaking up the juices with homemade whole wheat bread.

Of course, warming up didn’t always require food. A cup of hot chocolate, made with real cocoa, honey and milk was perfect for restoring feeling to numb toes and fingers. When I got older, a cup of tea would also do the trick. Coffee was out of the question; my mom was convinced it would stunt our growth (Don’t worry; I’ve more than made up for my coffee shortage during my childhood. It’s a good thing coffee can’t reverse growth, otherwise I might be about two feet tall).

Apple cider was great, too. We bought it in big gallon glass jars, and drank it cold or hot, depending on how thirsty and how lazy we were at the particular moment. I used to take a steaming cup of it down to my bedroom and watch the snow fall. It was very versatile and could be used as an early morning wake-me-up or as a winding down beverage right before bed.

I never made it with whole spices before, so I decided to try it for Thanksgiving. It was a big hit, and it made the house smell amazing as well.

Serves/Makes: 2 quarts

• 2 quarts apple cider
• 1/2 cup brown sugar, packed
• 1 teaspoon whole allspice
• 1 1/2 teaspoon whole cloves
• 2 cinnamon sticks
• orange slices