So my job is to tell you about the new Pearwood Cider from Badger which has just been released. If you are thinking ‘perry’ then please think again. This is about as far away from Babycham and Lambrini as Dom Pérignon is from Tizer and Vimto. This is grown up pear cider. This is the real ale of pear ciders. This is an English champagne in my opinion.

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Pearwood cider is made from English conference pears by Thatchers of Somerset in collaboration with Hall & Woodhouse. Based in Blandford, Dorset, Hall & Woodhouse is actually the largest regional family brewer of premium ales in the UK. The combination of ‘alehouse’ expertise with West Country earthiness seems to have worked very well indeed here. Having visited Thatchers brewing centre many times, I know this is a Mecca for lovers of fermented English orchard bounty, so I was expecting something special.

Consumers will no doubt be duped into the dismal marketing tactics much beloved of the modern pub trade and be offered this product in a pint glass with ice. I decided that a champagne flute was more appropriate and the drink holds up to the job. Determined vertical bubble streams assert this brew’s stature and the taste is bold, rich, complex and almost woody with a hint of bonfire night.

If I have one criticism it is for the branding writers who have labeled this product sweet and crisp. Yes I’m sure that kind of labeling helps sell pear cider in supermarkets, but this product is so much more than that. Whereas a sharp English cider on a summer’s day might leave you reaching for a pickled onion and a Ploughman’s, a glass of Pearwood leaves you yearning for a black olive and sun dried tomato tapanade on some organic crostini. This is classy stuff, make no mistake.

Pearwood gets its mature flavour from ageing in oak barrels and its makers describe it as deliciously fruity, floral and grassy. No doubt it also benefits from being produced by craftsmen who are dedicated to creating taste and the comforting blanket of alcoholic warmth that comes from a drink of this kind.

My last visit to Thatchers was an impromptu affair and I arrived just as they were closing up shop for the day. The office manager saw my frustration when I arrived just as he was locking up and said he’d fetch me a flagon as a special favour. Asking me whether I wanted the sweet, medium or rough variety I asked him how rough the rough was. He replied in jest, “Well, it’s quite hard – and you might find a few mouse legs and twigs at the bottom of the barrel!”

That’s West Country humour for you and probably what they tell the tourists to frighten them off. As for me, from rough scrumpy to Pearwood cider, I think I know that Thatchers don’t put their name on a product unless it is a winner – and this new brew is no exception.