Upon graduating from college, I decided to move to the big city of Minneapolis. I would be my own Mary Tyler Moore, and throw my cap high on my way downtown to my first big city girl job. Well, I got a job downtown alright, but it was bartending at a restaurant — not exactly the cushy office job I had envisioned. I was waiting on the big-wigs, when all I wanted in the world was to be one myself. Or so I thought at the time.
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The restaurant, Goodfellows (since closed), was a swanky tribute to art deco, with beautiful chandeliers, a big band channel blasting from the speakers, and a wine list the size of a novella. My good friend Ben managed the bar and wine list and taught me all I needed to know about simple syrup, classic cocktails, and amazing apple cider. During the summer months, I poured so many Arnold Palmers I had dreams about them, and de-seeded more lemons than I care to remember. As the leaves changed, I was so excited to stop making lemonade every day; the prospect of apple cider seemed exciting and new. When Ben first plopped that jug of fresh pressed juice in front of me, I was so happy not to be looking at a lemon, I didn’t realize I was looking at an even more annoying adversary.
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After putting away the massive wine order, stocking ice, garnishes, and counting my till, I needed to delve into the kitchen and the huge walk-in cooler to track down the juice, orange, and spices needed to make apple cider. I had to squeeze my way behind the line, between all the knives, the line cooks shouting in Spanish, and sous chef stalking the row, ensuring everyone’s mise en place was ready for service. I had to mix my concoction, fight for a burner, and ensure the cider didn’t reach a boil. I began to loathe the cider, and dreaded making it every day.
Looking back on it, the cider was damn good. Not cloyingly sweet, it had a nice spice to it. It was no wonder I had to make it every day, as it was in high demand. I recently spoke with Ben, and it turns out he loathed it as much as I did. It is so sad, this innocent cider, beloved by those who drank it and hated by its makers. It’s not even that hard to make — which is why I’m sharing the recipe now with you. But I do warn you, the popularity of this cider may force you to create batches upon batches at your upcoming holiday parties, especially if you choose to add a little brandy. Oh, and don’t use cheap juice, only 100 percent fresh-pressed, the cloudier, the better.
Goodfellow’s Apple Cider
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1 jug freshly pressed apple juice
2 sticks cinnamon
10 whole cloves
5 pods star anise
Juice of one orange
Combine in a pot and place on the burner. Allow to come to a slight simmer — but do not boil.
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