Can. Most Will.

This is a giant jug of cider in the keller.

His word for it is 'Most', even if that usually means the unfermented stuff. This has been fermenting since last October, going on nine months of age now.

Pours a clear copper in the glass, smelling of orchard, leather and lambic. It tastes juicy and tart with a natural roughness to it and a light sparkle. They like to mix it with sparkling lemonade to make it easier to drink. But it's better straight.

He tells me it's about 9% alcohol. This is a man who makes wine and owns a refractometer, so I believe him. He adds some sugar and just a bit of yeast to the juice, and that's it, plus time. Apfelwein, in truth, but we still call it Most.

There is a lot left in this jug to drink. Also, there are little green late-summer apples everywhere, the first of the season. Where we currently live apples are precious imported things, but this corner of Swabia seems to be lousy with them. They need help eating them. 

And more apples are coming, with surplus going into more Most. They need help drinking it.