Don Whitaker, the Cider Maker at Castle Hill, strolls over a grassy knoll in one of Virginia’s oldest historical estates and approaches what looks to be a graveyard. The lower half of a huge, broken urn stands before the entrance of a roped-off gravel square surrounded by mature linden trees, sprawling fields, whitewashed horse fences, apple orchards, and a horizon of Blue Ridge Mountains. “One of the qvevri broke when we were getting them shipped across the Atlantic,” says Whitaker, 51, pointing at the urn. What appears to be a…
