When it all goes pear-shaped

Not to be confused with cider, the art of perry-making is more than a craft–it’s an English passion. Ben Lerwill meets some of our best producers of fermented pear juice

- Ben Lerwill

YOU can say what you like about Napoleon Bonaparte, but he wasn’t one for dishing out idle praise. When he reportedly described perry as ‘the English Champagne’, it was a sparkling endorsement of the doughty orchardists of Gloucestershire, Herefordshire and Worcestershire. The palaces of imperial France were a long way from the fields of the Wye Valley—nonetheless, a bottle of fine, bittersweet bubbles was seemingly enough to bridge the divide.

Perry has history, provenance and prestige. It is, in very basic terms, an alcoholic beverage made from fermented pear juice: perry is to pears what wine is to grapes and cider is to apples. However, although wine and cider have legions of international devotees, perry occupies a much more specialised place in public (un)consciousness. It had a seat at the top table during the Georgian era, but has since experienced periods of near-obsoletion. Happily, despite the fruit it depends on being notoriously troublesome to work with, the drink itself is still very much with us.

At this point, you should dismiss any preconceptions based on Babycham, Lambrini or mass-produced pear cider. Fine perry is an artisan product. Its traditional UK heartland lies in the three counties previously mentioned, with supporting roles from makers in Somerset and Monmouthshire. It typically ranges in strength from 4% to 8% ABV and is commonly sold in 750ml bottles (chill well and pour carefully—leave any sediment). It often has a pale, straw-coloured hue with a fresh greenish tint. The key fact, however, is this: a good perry is a thing of life-enhancing, effervescent complexity. Among those in the know—and this number is unquestionably growing—the best small-batch makers in the UK are seen as alchemists.