Tue 4 Sep 2007
Summer Cooking Accomplishments
Years ago, I remember seeing Aquavit chef Marcus Samuelsson on Martha Stewart Living long before it was the participatory live talk show it is today. Together, Samuelsson and Stewart, in her sedated kitchen studio demonstrated how to make aquavit, the iconic Swedish spirit, placing eye-catching vibrant berries, lemons, dill, and peppercorns in wide mouth display jars. This was around the time that placing various spices and vegetables in ornamental jars filled with vinegar or oils was a popular craft activity.
Every country has that one drink. Drunk straight, from a shot glass that will, according to my father, light your eyeballs on fire, or put hair on your chest. Korea, soju. US, Whiskey. Russia, Vodka, and the Nordic countries, it’s Aquavit. Distilled from grain or potatoes, commercial Aquavit, from the Latin water of life, is colorless, though generally flavored with caraway seeds. It is served chilled, and swallowed in one gulp.
This year for my birthday my friend Erin gave me a copy of Samuelsson’s cookbook Aquavit, and fast as my fingers would go I flipped to the recipes for aquavit. There, beautifully photographed and as lustrous as I remembered, were the glass jars, filled with tinted red liquid from the vodka, or cubes of lemon, lemongrass and ginger. While the rest of the cookbook’s Swedish Fusion dishes proved alluring, the itch to make aquavit demanded a long overdue scratch, and I chose lime aquavit as my foray into the world of mixology.
The first hurdle was finding potato vodka. Samuelsson recommends using potato based vodka because, “it has the clearest, cleanest flavor.” With Washington state liquor taxes and limited selection, I sent my mother in law searching for potatoes on a business trip. She returned with an Idaho produced potato based vodka. $30.00 for 1 liter.
Unable to find the elegant wide mouth jars reminiscent of old fashioned candy shop jars, I opted for a liter mason jar. “If the jar you use for infusing the vodka is attractive, it can serve as a centerpiece on your table or on a sideboard while the vodka steeps.” In it I stuffed lime zest, sliced limes, kaffir lime leaves, peeled and diced ginger, and finally the vodka. Mason jars are attractive, right?
Next I placed the jar on a ledge to sit for 8 long weeks.
Despite Auqavit’s place as the country’s national beverage, the strong elixir is generally reserved for pairing with special foods, with smoked and pickled herring, or important times, at Yulebord, the Christmas Buffet. (And no, you can’t buy it at IKEA). In bars today it is served chased by a beer.
Finally, the date on the calendar matched with the fading ink scribbled on the jagged piece of masking tape adhered to the bottom of the jar, August 8th.
My next hurdle, finding a jar to decant into. The vodka, soaking up the color from the limes had turned a vibrant yellow-green, redolent of freshly squeezed limes and crushed ginger. Kevin and I placed the decanted aquavit into the freezer and waited.
The next evening found us with sake glasses full to the brim with our home brew. Gingerly Kevin touched it to his lips, took a sip, and instantly began coughing, as a teenager would with their first taste of whiskey. “Whoooooooo, babe.” He remarked once he had caught his breath. “That’s strong.” Dejected I looked down at my cup and took a reluctant sip, letting the smallest amount pass through my lips. Warming spice instantly filled my mouth and nasal cavity. Ok. Maybe I used a little too much ginger. Lime eventually made its presence known as the icy liquid slid its was down the back of my throat.
I looked at Kevin, now fully recovered, and raised my eyebrows, he responded with a head crock to the side. I nodded and refilled our glasses.
