ALTHOUGH they look harmless enough, grapes are tyrants, dominating fermented fruit beverages without rival. Only one fruit can make even the faintest claim to stand up among grapes: the apple.

Once, two and a half centuries ago, the apple could throw its weight around. In Colonial days, hard cider was the most popular beverage in North America, far more so than whisky, wine or beer. Cider had long been popular in Britain and in France, too, especially in the northern regions of Normandy and Brittany.

But though popular through much of the 19th century, cider lost out in the United States, especially after Prohibition, and it wasn't until a few years ago that a worldwide revival of cider making began. Just as the microbrewing revolution stirred interest in many nearly forgotten styles of beer and ale, artisanal cider makers have spearheaded a newfound appreciation of the apple. And since the idea of cider feels so warm and homey, touching pre-nuclear-age notions of community, the Dining section's wine panel, not immune to sentiment, decided for the holidays to turn away from the grape and to the apple.

The panel, Amanda Hesser and I along with two guests, a colleague, Florence Fabricant, and Garrett Oliver, brewmaster of Brooklyn Brewery and author of ''The Brewmaster's Table'' (Ecco, 2003), tasted 21 ciders, including 11 from the United States, 7 from France and 1 each from England, Ireland and Austria. Most contained the same amount of alcohol as beer, from 3 to 7 percent. Above all, we were fascinated by the range of flavors and styles. Some ciders were dry, fresh and intense, like biting into a crisp, juicy apple just off the tree, yet elegant, too. Others were sweet as dessert, tasting as if they were cloaked in brown sugar and caramel: ''tarte Tatin in a glass,'' as Ms. Fabricant put it.

Appearance differed radically. Some (our favorites, as it turned out) were unfiltered, resulting in a hazy amber brown color not too different from the fresh unpasteurized ciders available at roadside farm stands. Others were pale and clear, which I initially thought was a bad thing, indicating an assembly-line factory product. This, it turned out, was not entirely the case. One of our favorites, the Farnum Hill Extra-Dry Still from New Hampshire, was clear and light, yet possessed a lively bitterness and persistent flavor that to my mind was extremely refreshing.

All but the Farnum Hill were carbonated, yet the styles of carbonation differed, too. In some, the bubbles seemed to have evolved naturally and were simply part of the texture of the cider. Others felt harsh and artificial, as if the bubbles had been added at the end.

The ciders from France swept the tasting, taking the top three spots and four of the top six. What they all had in common was a rare intensity, yet each was different. The Christian Drouin, our overall favorite, came from the Pays d'Auge, Calvados country in Normandy, and had great depth. The flavors of apples, earth and mint went on and on. The Dupont, our second-ranked cider, also from Normandy, was slightly lighter in body and intensity, while No. 3, the Eric Bordelet ''sydre,'' as he puts it, was crisp yet richly sweet. Mr. Bordelet, incidentally, also makes an exceptional cider from pears, which are sometimes blended into apple ciders as well. Mr. Oliver, for one, was sure he could taste pears in some of these ciders.

Our top American cider was the Original Sin, made in Vermont, which like the Farnum Hill was on the pale and light side yet still managed to be complex and elegant. In a completely different style was Warwick Valley Doc's Draft from the Hudson Valley of New York, a fat, round sweet cider with a character that bordered on the overbearing but never quite got there.

Neither the English nor the Irish cider made our list, which was too bad. Perhaps it would have been different if we had been able to find some of the artisanal ciders that have raised interest in Britain just as the Real Ale movement several decades ago drew attention away from industrialized beers. But the only English cider we found, the Strongbow Dry Cider, was clean and straightforward, without much personality. We did like the one Austrian cider in the tasting, the Reisetbauer, though I found it light and pleasant where Mr. Oliver found it complex and Ms. Fabricant elegant.

Incidentally, though we tasted one cider made exclusively from Granny Smith apples -- it didn't make our cut -- the best ciders are made from little-known apples with names like Yellow Petit, Holy Martin, Chisel Jersey and Foxwhelp. They tend to be small and hard, not the sort you would want to give your teacher, but more like crabapples. Some are highly acidic, others are tannic, bitter or sweet. By combining many apples with different characteristics, cider makers achieve complexity.

It would not be hard to drink any but the sweetest ciders with food. Even those with a little sweetness go very well with anything that traditionally goes with apples, like pork, cheeses and -- why not? -- latkes.

Tasting Report: Fresh and Crispy, With Sweetness and Acidity

Christian Drouin $8/750 ml.

*** 1/2 [rating: three and a half stars]

Cidres Pays d'Auge 4 percent