@ai6yr@m.ai6yr.org when I was in rural Devon a zillion years ago at a pub I was served a pint of cloudy cider. "them little floaty bits is from the process. we throw in a bunch of apples, then hay, then apples, then hay, then apples, then hay" so it's hay? "slow down lad. we only just begun. apples, then hay, then apples, then hay... then a leg of lamb, then hay, then apples. let it sit a week and press!" so it's lamb? "oh no, come on, what do you take us for? disgusting. it's the rats that come eat the rotting flesh! can you taste those rats, lad?"