Æblerov collaborates with the country's most skilled organic growers and transform fruits and berries into crisp ciders, second-generation fruit wines and drinkable mash-ups that blur the lines between cider, beer and wine.
"At Æblerov, we let nature loose."
The fermentation is kick-started by the wild yeast cells that live on the surface of the fruit, just as the fine bubbles form naturally during bottle fermentation, as you know from Lambic, Loire and Champagne. The team cultivates wildness, good taste and all the small and large coincidences that nature throws up. They don't always know what to call the wildest of our products, but otherwise they modestly call what they make 'real cider'.
Æblerov is your wild natural product. The taste of pure coincidence. From Danish apples, pears, grapes, plums and berries...
Æblerov is an organic cidery that has its home in Beauvais' old sourdough factory in Svinninge in West Zealand, where last year the team produced 85,000 liters of liquid fruit. The products can be bought in various bars and specialty shops, just as they are proud to be on the wine list at a number of good eateries.
It all started in 2011 in a small garage on Limfjordsvej in Vanløse. Here, the current owner Morten Sylvest-Noer and now former partner Christopher Melin supervised the newly purchased 30 liter plastic buckets of fermenting applesauce, which stood bubbling among rusty lawnmowers, a discarded pram and a litter of dried paint buckets. The initial capital was modest, the fruit grinder and press were hand cranked and production was limited to 50 litres.
The founders were then two happy wine waiters studying food science at the University of Copenhagen. We both dreamed of making wine. But since they were far from vines and south-facing slopes, in a country where the climate gives them some of the world's best apples year after year, it made more sense to throw themselves into the cider. Only problem: they didn't have any apples.
No apples = apple robbery!
That's how the robbery started. First in the backyards of family and friends, before they ventured out into Copenhagen's housing estates, where tons of apples rot to no avail every autumn. They went there and scouted over planks and privet hedges and then rang the home owners who had well-hung apple trees in their garden. The first year's harvest resulted in a paltry 50 liters of spontaneously fermented cider. But when they opened the first bottles, the scent of Danish apples spread in the small garage. Wow! It tasted good and had bubbles in it! We were left with apples in the noses and blood on the teeth.
