The press was a failure. Before I cranked the jack through even an inch of apples it was starting to fail. There was no seal around the presser, which meant I was getting geysers of apple chunks. The frame began to splinter soon after. The cleanup was a pain, and output delivery was inefficient.
10/10 would play again.
You never realize how much mess you’re about to make til after the fact. I for reals had six inch sprays of cider chunks going up, resembling vomit more than juice. I think some splinters may have gotten in, which isn’t actually a problem as I’m going to be sieving everything anyway. Tomorrow, tonight being too late to be doing it, I’m going to rock the food processor on the remnants. Today I am only a man, tomorrow I will be the immortal embodiment of Jack LeLane. Once I get the apples blended, I’ll just pop them through a fine sieve to get rid of the bigger junks, and get fermenting. Its not like I’m not going to have to strain it all again anyway.
The Wif keeps on getting on me for being hard on myself as I describe my attempt as a failure. Its no that being hard on myself, its that I believe failure is not a problem. I keep trying to make a new quote, something like:
If you revel only in your success, you revel too little. If you revel in your failures every day is a fete.
Something like that, you know, inspirational shit.
ps. If you ever desire to read some ass quotes about failure, I recommend . Except Chis Hardwick’s, because he’s pretty much right in my opinion.