Cider party

About a mile away from the 45 parallel, there is a little barn that produces the most delicious hard cider.

Read the endearing story of its creation here. Jack, we will ride through Europe on a bicycle built for two (with a sidecar for Pierce, of course)

I first tried the cider last week while pitting cherries for jam and later sitting on our friends' porch watching the sunset and eating pizza.

Sweet, but not too sweet, light and crisp- not thick. Also, for whatever reason, you can happily drink it all night without the after effects of this other jugged frenemy from my Freshman year in college:

You know I have me a sweet tooth so it should be no surprise that I love cider. I actually remember being a little girl and plotting that as an adult I would survive on Apple Juice and Pop Tarts.

When I was living in San Francisco after college, I used to pick up a few bottles of cider and go with friends to the paddle boats in Stow Lake in Golden Gate Park and feed pink popcorn to the ducks, like my mom did when she was living there as a child.

Stow Lake- it really is this pretty

So last weekend, when Jack and I were contemplating our lunch options, we took the back roads and came upon this special place. Jack was worried that I was dragging him to some tourist trap- on a Saturday- at noon- but when we showed up there was not another car in sight.

Literally.

I am convinced that the two people working there arrived on the bike and then mounted it above the entrance.

The bar

The gear

The glasses- and picked eggs, in the background, for the brave.

We stuck with peanuts.

We purchased a few different bottles and a jug of the Sweetheart, our favorite. It was a scorcher that day so when we came home we took the boat far out on the lake, shared a bottle of cider and jumped into the water.

I am telling you, my fully-realized Michigan summer is coming to fruition. And with only a week left I have to make every day count!

One more thing... my younger brother's first apartment out of college was with some friends in a coach house on Dickens, in Chicago. The perfect post-college pad in the heart of Lincoln Park. I will never forget the blend of horror and amusement that struck me when I received the evite to their cider party, the Dickens Cider Party.

I will just leave you with that.

Xox,

Jenny