Ernest Wild Blueberry Cider



As it stands this is their weakest cider yet.  It’s good don’t get me wrong.  I may have to go back and revisit it as the first cider on a nice afternoon and it may change my outlook.  It’s got a simplicity about itself but it’s missing something to kick it up.  Might be a bit of sweetness.  Might be something to lift the apple up a bit more.  Might need me getting aggressive head.  I don’t know but it’s missing something.

If I was rating cider on aroma though… Fuck me…  It’s good.


On. Fucking. Point.

Before I digress I gotta rant. I still put two goddamn spaces after a period. I know the prevailing common sense now is just one space is required but I can’t fucking do it. Two spaces. I’m gonna rail into the lights like fucking Picard until the Cardassians fucking strap the bottoms of my feet. “There are two spaces!”

I really love their branding. I can continue to talk about it. The Rubee I reviewed last I think is my least favourite but the Impeachment and this one I fucking love. I love the monochrome tartan. I love the splash of colour. I’ll say it again, you go into a store and you see lines of cans and this shit stands out. It’s consistent. It’s little shit like the metallic gold highlights. The bee on the can. Again the little messages on the back.

I know I’m being a homer again because it’s made down the street from me but this shit is good too but damn the branding is tight like your girl been doing kegels waiting for you to slam your thickness into her. That’s a black hole I want to get sucked into


Apples, Wild Blueberries, Wild Blueberry Juice, Honey, Potassium Sorbate, Sulphites

I’m liking the sound of this. No fucking clue what the difference is between a blueberry and a wild blueberry but I’m guessing a wild blueberry probably does ATM or something. Blueberry you want to fuck with but you ain’t bringing it home to meet your parents.


It’s a goddamn lie it isn’t blue. What is interesting is the bubbles came and left. Only thing I’ve witnessed come and go quicker is me after I’ve not been touched sensually for a few weeks.  Fuck I’m admiring my hand there.  That’s a working mans hand.  Chicks dig scrapes and shit.


I can smell this shit it’s filling up the room with its glory.  I’m really digging the smell and fuck me it’s blueberry.  Goddamn yum.

You don’t get that reference tough shit.


The bark is better than the bite sadly.  You pull this to your nose and the smell is fucking awesome but then you take a swill and I can’t explain it.  It’s a bit flat.  It’s a bit bitter.  It’s dry.  It’s missing something to elevate it.  Not saying I’d know what that something is but it’s missing it.  Maybe it’s because this is my 3rd cider today.  Maybe it’s because I started with Impeachment and tainted myself on awesomeness too early.

Fuck I love peaches.  Love the feeling of a sweet juicy peach in my mouth the light fuzz against my face as I eat it slowly.