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Cider House Blues:
Sideria Bar Hopping in Northern Spain
The Rituals of Cider Drinking
in Asturias
By Will Snyder
 Cider
drinking in the Asturias region of Northern Spain is one of those regional
customs that does not export very well, but is so enjoyable as a visitor! It
is a Celtic-based ritual that is tolerant of new initiates, a social
expression bringing together participants in the hallowed walls of… cider
bars!
The Asturias is one of the forgotten
regions of Spain for most tourists. It shouldn’t be: there are beautiful
beaches, fantastic mountains, great food and an exciting night life. OK, the
weather is not as hot as the south, but in these days of global warming and
heatwaves that can be a blessing. And it does rain a lot, but that makes for
great apples (and the best cider, as the locals are convinced).
 The
Asturians are a proud and slightly-introverted people, proud of never having
been conquered by the Moors like the rest of Spain- King Pelayo fought off
the invading infidels in 722 in the battle of Covadunga. The next two
centuries saw the heyday of the Kingdom of Asturias, a precursor of the
Kingdom of Spain. During this era Oviedo was the capital until 910 when it
was moved to Leon. There seems to be a lingering bitterness about the
balance of power having shifted away from Asturias and eventually ending up
in Madrid. But then no one here seems totally content.
Asturians are a Celtic people, who have
seen very little immigration of minority groups to the area. Yet even the
Asturians are not a united people, with strong local dislike of neighboring
communities, so those from Gijon have a strong dislike for those from
Oviedo. That said, there are instances of unity: the heir to the Spanish
throne holds the title of Prince of Asturias (which only brings Asturias to
the level of Wales), and each year he awards the Spanish equivalent of the
Nobel Prizes in the name of Asturias.
Asturias has an underrated culinary
history. The food’s good. Traditional cuisine is hearty but not always
refined: from simple fabada (beans slowly cooked with pieces of sausage and
other meats) to stuffed cabbage, from spider crab stew to broiled sea bass.
It is the fish dishes that I find the most appealing. And lunch time (which
doesn’t start until 1:30pm) brings a special treat, with excellent value set
meals at most local restaurants. The all-inclusive prices range from 7 to 11
euros for a four course meal including wine, unbelievable offers that
include traditional preparations and a choice of 2 or 3 plates for each
course.
The Asturians have a strong accent so
that the Spanish spoken here sounds quite different from its cousin in
Madrid. Heavily influence by the dialect referred to as bable, the cultured
folks from the capital probably joking that the Asturians do a lot of
babbling.
This region was pummelled by Franco
during the Spanish Civil War seventy years ago. First a miners’ revolt led
to an attack by Franco’s forces on the regional capital Oviedo, resulting in
the destruction of much of the old town. During the war, many coastal cities
were ravaged by Franco’s bombs, including Guernica in the Basque region, and
Gijon itself.
 The
key attractions of the area are the magnificent natural resources and cider.
There are huge wild beaches and fishing villages. Most of the mountain range
called Picos de Europa lies in Asturias. There are many small towns full of
character from which to explore the riches of Asurias. Among these are
Llanes, Cudillero and Luanca – quaint fishing villages on the coast, and
Cangas de Onis, Arenas de Cabrales and Arriondas in the mountain region.
Unique in Spain, there are also
numerous pre-Romanesque churches to discover, due to this part of Spain
being cut off from the Moslem-held mainland for centuries.
 So
what about the cider (“sidra”). Well, first a few facts gathered from my
visit to the Cider Museum. The northern Spanish province of Asturias
produces over 80% of all cider in the country, and drinks nearly all of the
natural cider production. There are 79 cider producers in the region who
produce 2 types of cider: champagne cider (bubbles added) for export, and
natural cider (fermentation in wooden vats, then bottled) for local
consumption. Natural cider is made using over 200 different varieties of
apples, making the production slightly different with each producer, but
always a mixture- not too sweet, not too bitter.
The other cider producing region of
Spain is the Basque country, especially around San Sebastian. There natural
cider is shot out of spouts in large barrels directly into pitchers, which
are then set on tables and quickly drunk in small portions. The cider is
fermented for a month or two, and then drunk from January until April. In
Asturias, the cider is kept in vats for about five months, until the
fermentation has stopped, then bottled.
 Cider
is the regional pride and joy that permeates drinking and eating customs.
Cider pouring is the national sport. Always served from a bottle, the cider
is 100% natural apple juice that has completed its fermentation process.
There is no gas added, and the bottled product is “flat” and receives its
carbonation from the pouring process. It is typically the waiters and
bartenders (“escanciadores” = cider pourer) who ritualistically pour behind
the bar or next to the table, bottle held high overhead into glasses held at
a slight angle as close to the ground as the arm will go. A wooden splash
guard is optional equipment: there is a lot of splashing, as even the
experts do not seek to pour all the liquid into the glass.
 The
object is to fizz up the quantity of cider that actually ends in the glass
and is then quickly handed to the drinker for a quick bottoms up down the
hatch wrist action. But the pouring is anything but straight-forward: each
pourer I saw seemingly tried to show that he or she was so good that they
didn’t need to look at what they were doing. This nonchalance left them
looking off in the distance as they poured the slightly sweet sticky
substance into a glass one meter down from the bottle. What was going on?
The answer is that the pourers are not at all showing off. And they are not
looking off in the distance, at least not totally. The secret to a good pour
is to know where the glass is and to watch the middle of the stream of cider
as it descends, and have good ears for the exact part of the glass to hit.
 The
savvy drinker continues the ritual by leaving a very small amount in the
glass and dumping it with quick wrist out of the glass and onto the floor.
Yes, we have a bar full of drinkers, male and female alike, launching the
dregs of each glass of cider on the floor. For this purpose most restaurants
have sawdust on the floor and siderias (cider bars) have a ceramic or
stainless steel drain running along the bar serving as the target - which
makes standing next to the bar in a crowded sideria a risky proposition.
Why do the drinkers not finish off the
nicely poured couple of ounces of cider? I mean, enough of the cider has
already been wasted in the pouring process, why pour out any more down the
drain? I put this question to a number of drinkers, bartenders and the guide
at the Cider Museum, and received a variety of responses. These include:
-
Mother earth has given the apples to
us, and this is symbolic of returning a little to our provider.
-
The bottom of the glass quickly
acquires a small amount of sediment, and doesn’t taste as good as the
first.
-
It’s fun to aim for someone’s shoes.
-
It’s a hygienic gesture. In past
times, tables often shared a glass, and each drinker would pour out the
last sip over the spot where the lips touched the glass, thereby cleaning
it for the next drinker.
 The
last explanation was certified to be the correct one at the Museum, and this
seemed to be ratified by the nonchalant way some escanciadores picked up
glasses from bars or tables and randomly handed them back to drinkers.
Finally, the cider pourer also leaves
the sediment in the bottle- the bottle is never completely emptied. The
unwritten law is that each bottle holds six glasses, and once the sixth
glass is poured, that bottle goes in the bottle rack heading back to the
cider producer. No way is the pourer going to give you another glass just
because you see an inch of cider left in the bottom. House rules.
 Luckily,
cider drinking will hardly break the bank. The price of a bottle (70
centiliters) to share in a bar is typically about 2 euros ($2.50), and at
5.5% alcohol its like 2 people each having a decent sized beer for a buck.
And it is a very sociable event, and the crowded siderias from 8pm to the
early hours of the morning will attest. You cannot order just a glass of
cider, and while solo drinkers exist, they are rare. Groups of people of all
ages meet to share a few bottles, the escanciadores are kept busy, decorking
at huge wall-based corkscrews, pouring, moving to the next group.
Cider drinking is by no means a male
pastime. Most cider bars are very mixed, with frequent groups of young women
drinking together, standing up or at tables. And they can toss the dregs
with a finer touch than most men.
In August, the National Cider Festival
comes to Asturias. Held in one of several small towns in the cider-producing
area, it is worth a detour. The real action, however, is in Gijon. There are
popular siderias throughout the coastal city, but one of the most
interesting areas is called Cimadevilla, a hilly peninsula jutting out
between the two beaches of the town, formerly a fortified military zone, now
a web of narrow lanes and small squares. Attracts a mostly young and very
late crowd, with many bars filling up after midnight.
While on the cider trail, the Cider
Museum in Nava (a half hour drive from Gijon or Oviedo) is a must. Do insist
on a guided tour, as the guides are needed to fill in the background for the
compelling exhibits that lack English explanations. The displays show the
entire cider-making process, and there are quite a few interesting antiques
that have only very recently been modernized.
Hotel information:
www.infoasturias.com
www.princast.es
The Cider Museum of Asturias
Plaza Principe de Asturias, 33520 Nava, Spain
Tel 34 985 71 74 22 (closed Mondays)
www.museodelasidra.com
email:
info@museodelasidra.com
Will Snyder is a free lance journalist
living in southwest France.
Phone: 33 675 025 149
mail:
will.snyder@voila.fr
Text and copyright 2004 by Will
Snyder
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