Tag archives for Akvavit

Oh, snap(s)… it’s Midsummer.

There’s no use trying to be delicate about this. A crucial part of the Midsummer festivities is the drinking. I’m trying very hard to sound very adult-like and responsible in this blog, but even the totally responsible adults I know seem to be prone to, ahem, a little excess during Midsummer.

Snaps! Aquavit! Brännvin! Bål! Where to start?

Delicious glasses of bål chilling out with the Midsummer Head Wreaths. Photo: Kate Wiseman.

Here’s the basics.

Bål (pronounced like “bowl”) is an alcohol-based fruit punch, usually made with soda for a light and bubbly taste.

Aquavit is the traditional pairing to pickled herring and is made from a vodka base (either potato or grain). Like parmesan and champagne, aquavit is an EU-protected label that must be made with either dill or caraway or both, a baseline flavor that can then be paired with other herbs and spices to make distinctive varieties.

Brännvin is any kind of flavored, distilled alcohol, including but not limited to aquavit. The name “brännvin” refers to the “burning” or distillation of an alcohol, and different kinds of brännvin have been made throughout Scandinavia for centuries.

Snaps is not a type of alcohol; it’s the way a shot of alcohol is drunk. Snaps can be any liquor or combination of liquors and other ingredients, but snaps must be taken in combination with food. At Midsummer, snaps of aquavit or other types of brännvin are usually taken after “snapsvisor” (traditional Swedish drinking songs) are sung.

Kate and Anna’s home brew… sort of

People tend to be on their most Swedish behavior around me as though they owe it to me to show me what a real Swede would do. This system works out really well for me, and whenever I get an idea in my head of something we should do because it’s Swedish, chances are really good that people will play along. Not only that, but since all the old traditions are new to me, I am having a lot of fun taking part in all the things people usually stop doing when they’re children. The “be a good cultural ambassador to the foreigner” complex is awesome. I quite like it.

Which brings us to the snaps situation.

I love Johanna Kindvall’s Kok Blog, and ever since I consulted with her on my Holy Herring! blog post, I’ve been curious to try her recipe for aquavit—she said herring is at its best when paired with the strong and spicy liquor, and I knew that herring was definitely on the menu for Friday. Fortunately, Anna said she was up for the challenge, so we went for it.

Measuring, grinding, steeping, smelling... and voila! Our very own homemade snaps. Photos: Kate Wiseman.

Final result: delicious. I can’t even tell you how many people were like, “Well, I’m not much of a snaps person, but I’ll try it anyway since you made it,” then took half a shot, then reacted with a great deal of surprise: “Wow! That’s not bad!” Two minutes later, another drinking song has started and they’re making a grab for your bottle instead of the store-bought bottle sitting on the table…

You can find the recipes for both the black currant and aquavit varieties on the Kok Blog. The black currant might be a little hard to make if you don’t grow the bushes yourself, but perhaps some readers can suggest where to find them.  I highly recommend both varieties. I liked the aquavit better, but the black currant is lighter and perhaps a little easier to drink if you’re not into spice. Just be sure not to let the black currant leaves steep for too long, otherwise it will start to taste a little grassy.

Back to the bål

For those of you who are not into shots, the bål (fruit punch) that we had at our party was amazing. And therefore dangerous. It was somewhere in the middle of my fourth glass that I thought to myself, “Hmm… I hope this isn’t too strong because I am drinking it really quickly.”

There are almost endless variations of bål and while most are fruity, they can also be made with bitter ingredients, like angostura. You can see an abbreviated selection of the flavor combinations suggested by Systembolaget, the national alcohol monopoly.

A small selection of the wide range of bål variations. Photos: Systembolaget.se.

For those of you who might want a taste of Sweden at your next summer party, here’s the punch that I can vouch for as totally tasty, with thanks to my friend Matilda for sharing the recipe!

Matilda’s Midsummer Bål

Will make two punch bowls full

4 bottles of white wine (or one box)

2 bottles of Sprite

¼ bottle of elderberry cordial/concentrate (find recipe here; can also be bought at Ikea stores worldwide)

¼ bottle of rhubarb and strawberry concentrate

A generous splash of Bacardi lemon

Frozen chopped mango pieces

Fresh lime, sliced thinly into triangles

Frozen strawberries

A few fresh strawberries

A few last thoughts

For those of you who are wondering how I felt the next morning, well… I wasn’t exactly jumping out of bed, itching to run a marathon, but overall I was fine. Water! Water is good for you. Thank goodness I drank a lot of it at the end of the night.

HOLY HERRING! Sweden’s secret lifeblood

When I went to Sweden for the first time, I didn’t know much about it. Meatballs, tall blond goddesses, socialized health care? Yes. Real knowledge? Not so much.

One thing that people warned me about, though, was that I was likely to be force fed herring, which (according to myth) is an oily, slippery, silvery pickled fish that was going to smell really nasty and taste like… well… the worst thing in the whole world.

BLECHHHHHHHHHH! No thank you!

Fast forward two and a half years, after I’ve been living in Sweden for ten months or so. I come home from work late, hungry and tired, and headstraight to the fridge.

Before I know what’s happening, I find myself spearing large chunks of pickled herring (inlagd sill) straight out of the jar, not even bothering to put it on bread or the kind of thick cracker that it’s most commonly eaten with (knäckebrödthink Wasa crackers).

A few minutes later, I come up for air again. I lowered the jar from my face, looked at it, looked around the kitchen to double check that there were, in fact, no witnesses, and then took a few last pieces and inserted them into my mouth in a very ladylike fashion.

I am the soul of ladylike behavior, obviously.

Abba herring, available from www.MarinaMarket.com

Some varieties of Abba herring: onion, mustard, and dill. Available for purchase from www.MarinaMarket.com.

The truth is, herring has a bad rap in the US.

Extreme varieties like “surströmming” (which Wikipedia translates as “Scandinavian rotten fish”) have to be part of the problem. Surströmming is prohibited in many housing complexes in Sweden and throughout Europe, and descriptions of it are often peppered with the words “putrid,” “rancid,” and “frightening.”

Besides that—and I have to admit, I still haven’t tried surströmming myself, so maybe it’s delicious—the pickled herring I’ve been exposed to has been surprisingly tasty, especially given the preconceptions around it.

I asked my parents (both of them unabashed foodies) what comes to mind when they think of herring, and their answers were quite, ahem, illuminating.

Dad: “I think of salted, tinned fish… like something you’d find in a survival boat. And it’s probably something that even though it’s on the survival boat, it’s not to be eaten unless you’re close to starvation. There’s probably a sticker on it: ‘Open only in case of nuclear holocaust.’”

Mom: “I am totally baffled. Herring? What is it? Is it cold? Is it dipped in vinegar? Do you put mayonnaise on it?”

Clearly, there’s a gap in the body of American herring knowledge. I conducted a highly scientific study among my friends (read: via Facebook) and common favorites include Onion (löksill), French (fransk sill), and Mustard (senapssill), with a few holding out for Brantevik’s (a variety with black and white peppercorns, dill, chives, red and yellow onion, and some bay leaves).

I think that probably in the case of most Americans, tasting would be believing.

Herring is common throughout Scandinavia, the Baltic States, Poland, Germany, the Ukraine, the Netherlands, and even the UK, in the form of kippers, bloaters, and bucklings. To make your own herring, the best starting point is the fish itself, freshly-caught and free of any ingredients, vinegar or otherwise.

Herring and Akvavit (c) Johanna Kindvall

Herring and Akvavit: a match made in heaven. Illustration (c) Johanna Kindvall, www.kokblog.johannak.com

To get more insight on the herring situation in the United States, I talked to Johanna Kindvall, who besides being an illustrator and an architect in New York City also writes the charming “Kok Blog,” a food blog featuring Swedish food (as well as other cuisines).

She told me that while it’s difficult to find fresh herring, it’s not that hard to find herring that is already pickled or preserved in wine, cream, or oil. She makes both Swedish and Polish-style herring, and she serves them to guests with dark bread, a sharp hard cheese like aged Gouda or the Swedish Västerbotten, boiled eggs, and potatoes.

I’ve heard this before, and Johanna concurs: “To really get the best out of herring you also need a good vodka or akvavit.”

Plain or flavored, the liquor is supposed to bring another dimension of the herring out—like strawberries and champagne, but a hundred times more hard core. I’m trying to convince my family to get over their anti-herring prejudices and try it.

You can pair Johanna’s Akvavit with one of her herring dishes for a taste of Sweden outside of the country… true expat-style.

Johanna Kindvall. Illustration (c) Johanna Kindvall, www.kokblog.johannak.com

Once you learn to love herring, there's no going back! Johanna and her herring friend. Illustration (c) Johanna Kindvall, www.kokblog.johannak.com

Johanna’s Recipes!

Akvavit

Anna’s Akvavit

“East Village” herring (Swedish style)

M’s Herring for Easter (Polish style)