Lunchtime

Today, I looked down at my lunch and realized it seemed to have an especially Latvian quality, so I thought I’d make a quick post about it. I’m slowly putting together a bigger post about the Latvian grocery store, so if you’re interested, stay tuned for more Latvian foods and grocery items.

Anyway, here I have an assortment of things I quickly threw together from the fridge; hardly gourmet, but let’s see what we have.

First, we have the heart of the dish: some home-fermented cabbage from Christina’s aunt. It’s essentially sauerkraut, but crunchier in texture than varieties I’m used to. It’s obviously flavored with caraway, but I’m not sure what else.

Christina’s aunt is a very sweet lady, and like my own mother often does she sent us home with jars of homemade preserves and various home-canned items from her pantry. When she offered up this sauerkraut, she pulled a two-gallon (or larger?) jar from the pantry and scooped some of its contents into a plastic tub. We could tell the fermentation process was still at work because escaped gases kept popping the top off the plastic tub, maybe this is why it is crunchier than usual.

This particular variety is produced “with love from Latgale.” The Latgale region of Latvia is the easternmost part of the country. It contains Latvia’s second largest city, Daugavpils, but is otherwise largely agricultural. It strongly reminds me of northern Minnesota; full of farms, lakes, birch forests, and gravel country roads.

This variety is also partially dried. I’m not sure why this would be done, maybe to increase shelf-life, but they plump up nicely when steamed over sauerkraut.

Saldskābā maize, or literally, sweet and sour bread, is a traditional Latvian rye bread leavened with sourdough. Traditionally, it was made with 100% rye flour that was “scalded” (to improve texture) in wood tubs made of aspen (to improve aroma and flavor), and served during holidays.

This particular commercial loaf is made with a blend of rye and wheat flours and has added yeast. It’s still delicious, so I can imagine that the traditional loaf must be out of this world.

This particular brand is called Dzintars, which means “amber.” The Baltic states are famous for their amber, which I’m told can still sometimes be picked directly off the beaches of the Baltic sea. The tourist souvenir shops are full of amber jewelry and other trinkets, but most of it seems to come from Kaliningrad, not Latvia.

Its flavor is hard to describe but is vaguely reminiscent of cola. There are also many varieties that have added fruits or herbs. It’s so wildly popular in Russia that in order for Coca-Cola to compete with the market they were forced to make their own version. During the Soviet occupation of Latvia, kvass was commonly sold by street vendors, each hawking their own special recipe. Some restaurants still produce their own craft brews. Homemade kvass is often made using leftover bread and bread crusts and then flavored with spices, peppermint, dried fruit, or I’ve even heard of hops. I haven’t had the opportunity to try a home-brew yet, but you can bet I won’t pass up the chance.

Labu apetīti!