Perry is the pear's answer to cider, but it is not cider made from pears. The traditional perry pear is a small, hard, tannin-packed fruit that would make you wince if you bit into it. Pressed and fermented slowly, however, it gives a drink of remarkable delicacy — floral, softly perfumed, with a gentle astringent grip and often a hint of ripe pear skin. In the old orchards of Gloucestershire, Herefordshire and Worcestershire, perry was once as common as cider. It fell out of favour in the twentieth century, but small growers and home brewers have been steadily bringing it back.
Perry pears fall roughly into three camps: bittersharp, bittersweet and sharp, and the best perries are usually blends rather than single varieties. If you are planting trees or buying fruit, look for these traditional sorts.
A blend of roughly 60 per cent mild or bittersweet fruit to 40 per cent sharp gives balance. If you only have one variety, make it a mild one such as Blakeney Red rather than a heavy tannin sort.
Perry pears are rarely ready when you think they are. Leave them on the tree until they come away with a gentle lift, usually from late September through to November depending on variety. Then let them sweat in shallow crates for one to three weeks in a cool, airy shed. This softens the flesh, reduces harsh tannin and makes milling far easier. Pears that are rock hard will jam even a good scratter.
Mill to a coarse pulp — about the texture of chunky apple sauce — and press gently over 30 to 45 minutes rather than all at once. Perry pears yield less juice than apples and the pulp is stickier, so expect perhaps 60 to 70 per cent of the fruit weight in juice. Add a small dose of sulphite if you want a clean, predictable ferment, and let the juice stand overnight at around 10°C to settle.
The single greatest mistake with perry is fermenting it warm and fast. Heat drives off the delicate aromatics that make perry special. Aim for 12 to 15°C and let the yeast take three to six weeks over the job.
Perry juice is often low in nitrogen and can stick, so a yeast nutrient addition at the start is sensible. A clean cider or white wine yeast gives reliability; a wild ferment gives complexity but risks off-flavours in a small batch. If you go wild, keep the juice cool and sulphite lightly so the native yeast gets a fair start without spoilage organisms taking hold.
Rack the perry off the lees when it reaches around 1.010, leaving the thick sediment behind. A further racking three or four weeks later keeps the drink clean. Many perries undergo a malolactic fermentation in the spring, which softens the acidity and rounds the flavour — a welcome change in a drink that can otherwise taste a touch sharp.
Perry rewards patience. Bulk maturation in a cool, dark place for three to six months lets the tannin settle and the perfume return. Sample as you go and consider blending across varieties or years; traditional growers rarely bottled a single cask without adjusting it first.
Serve perry lightly chilled at 8 to 10°C in a wine glass rather than a pint pot. The aromatics need room to open.
Perry is less forgiving than cider in a few key ways. Watch for these.
Get it right and a home-made perry can stand beside anything from the Three Counties. Choose traditional varieties, take your time, and let the fruit speak.
April 25, 2019 at 10:46 am
Take in the iconic skyline and visit the neighbourhood hangouts that you've only ever seen on TV. Take in the iconic skyline and visit the neighbourhood.
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Soldman Kell
April 25, 2019 at 10:46 am
Take in the iconic skyline and visit the neighbourhood hangouts that you've only ever seen on TV. Take in the iconic skyline and visit the neighbourhood.