A Drink to Cure Stomach Pain and the Monotony of Workday Drudgery
A Drink to Cure Stomach Pain and the Monotony of Workday Drudgery
Riga Black Balsam in Adelaide
The desire for an aperitif was unsettling. It was yet another afternoon before the inevitable beginning of another shift at work, and S and I were in the Adelaide Central Markets looking for something that would perk up our unimpressed minds. We set out, meandering until we stumbled upon The Latvian Lunchroom, a quaint little joint with a Baltic flavor. They had liqueur on the menu.
“Sorry, you’ll have to order food as well. Our liquor license doesn’t cover plain purchase of alcohol, I’m afraid,” the lady at the counter said. I asked if they could muster up something on a mixed plate, anything they could recommend. I was interested in pirag, a traditional Latvian dumpling, essentially a tiny bun stuffed with bacon and onion. She suggested I accompany the pirag with Riga Sprats (tinned smoked skippers), and štovēti kāposti (a kind of sweet sauerkraut) and rasols (potato and beetroot salad) for my vegetarian friend. We were sold.
There is a small community of Latvians in Australia, many in South Australia. As the country opened its doors to European refugees after World War II, around 3,000 Latvians arrived in Adelaide. To pay for their passage, adults had to sign a two-year bond with the Australian government to work on the railways, in forestry, and waterworks. Today, Latvian culture in Adelaide endures in the form of the Latvian Association, a Latvian museum (the only one in Australia), a sports club, and a Saturday school playgroup where descendants of the first Latvians are introduced to their cultural roots.
The origins of Black Balsam are legendary. They say it was first brewed by a pharmacist in 1752 as a luxury elixir. It subsequently cured Catherine the Great of a stomach illness and it became well-known as a health-giving tonic, believed to help with digestion and to cure the common cold. Made of a blend of 24 secret ingredients—closely guarded and only known by a select few today—we know only that it contains traces of linden flower, pepper, ginger, and valerian root infused in vodka, which is then aged in oak. The rest of the recipe remains undisclosed.
Bitter yet sweet, the pitch-black liqueur tastes like a cough syrup that immediately warms up your insides. We swirled it around our mouths, taking slow sips from the tiny metal goblets it came in, then chased it with another shot, this time the Blackcurrant Black Balsam, which is combined with blackcurrant juice to take the edge off the liqueur. I wanted to try a slice of honey cake, but it was time to go to work.
The medicinal effects may also benefit the mental state. For a little while, Black Balsam tempered the monotony associated with another day of drudgery.