Our Story
Proudly pressing it since 1843
It all began when old Charles Dickens (no relation, allegedly) pressed his first barrel in a draughty Somerset barn and declared it "the best thing I've ever had inside me."
Five generations later, we still do it the slow way — real apples, wild yeast, and no shortcuts. Because a great Dickens Cider can't be rushed. It has to be savoured.
Real pressed apples. No concentrate, no nonsense.