Our cab takes us on a series of highways and autopistas just south of San Sebastián until we finally wind our way along a country road surrounded by hills and apple orchards. We’re a little disoriented, but I know exactly where we are. Petritegi Sagardotegia is one of many cider houses—or sidrerías—located in Spain’s autonomous Basque Country. Nestled in the small village of Astigarraga, it’s probably the area’s best-known sidrería, and the only one that operates year-round. The tart, alcoholic apple cider these sidrerías produce is a staple at meals and celebrations throughout Spain—and in recent years it has become easier to find in the States.
But drinking sidra (or sagardo in the Basque language of Euskara) from a bottle—while delicious—is a completely different experience than a night at a sidrería. These cider houses are social hubs built around food and drink. By the time the multi-course meal is finished, you’re three hours in, countless glasses deep, and you’ve become old friends with the locals. Plus, there’s something about getting your sidra straight from a giant oak barrel the size of an elephant.
We enter through the wooden doors of Petritegi into a large open dining room filled with long bench tables. It’s almost 9 p.m.—still early for dinner by Spanish standards—and the place is only about a quarter full. A baguette is already resting on our table. There’s something magical about the bread over here. Tender and crusty, it’s a staple in European meals. And it will help soak up some of the alcohol and tide us over until our sweeping opus of a feast gets underway.
Keep in mind, sidrerías aren’t where you go for an elegant dining experience—this is meat, fish, cheese and bread, simply prepared and incredibly good. The menu is generally made up of four courses: chorizo and a salt cod Spanish omelette called a tortilla; fish, typically hake; a thick T-bone steak, deliciously bloody and seasoned with salt and pepper; and for dessert an assortment of local cheese, walnuts and apple butter. This, of course, comes with all the sidra you can drink. Fact: The more sidra you consume, the more fluent you become en español.
Located off the dining area at Petritegi is another series of rooms lined with 250-gallon barrels propped up on cement blocks. The temperature of the rooms is about 15 degrees cooler in order to keep the sidra fresh. We walk between two of these barrels into another room to find a line of people with their glasses tilted below a five-foot jet of sidra shooting from one of the barrels. A young Basque man is operating the tap. And when we’re done with this, he’ll lead us to one of the other barrels—each one filled with a different aged sidra with a slightly different flavor.
I jump in, holding my glass low and making my way up the stream. Technique is key. The long stream method ensures lots of splash and the proper oxygenation. Here in the Basque Country it’s even more complicated. One old-timer tells me the secret is to hold your glass at 45 degrees and let the stream hit the side of the glass first. And don’t get greedy. Your cup should never runneth over and should only be about three fingers full. Bottle pouring is even more of a challenge. Old pros will usually tip the bottle from above their heads while holding the glass around belt-high with nary a splash.