Tippling with a hearty draught of pitchy perfection
Atlantic Canadians have always enjoyed a tipple or two. Whether at weddings, wakes or as a reward for a long day’s work, a beverage with bite is always welcome. But of all the alcohol styles available, there is one that truly speaks of this place—the sort of drink enjoyed long before any government-legislated outlets and used by all from prince to pauper. A beverage with links to the land, the rolling waves and hardy working folks. For me the answer is sticky with pitch and sweet to boot.
Rum would be the obvious choice, but despite its long association with the East Coast through much of its history, rum came from elsewhere. What about the country classic, the rural vintner’s choice for generations: dandelion wine? Before you sommeliers begin to judge, if made with care and correctly left to slumber, a glass of this golden table wine is no slouch. Many a Yuletide season was never complete without a few bottles making the long trek up from the cellar and gracing festive gatherings. If you really want to enjoy a beverage as Canadian as the maple leaf, hands down the winner has to be spruce beer.
Mentioning spruce beer in a gathering can set a room abuzz with dim recollections of far-removed relatives who brewed up crocks of dark spruce beer winter and summer. Few drinks are so steeped in legend and lore, especially here on the East Coast, where it holds on despite the tidal wave of modern choices. Absolutes are dangerous, so any statement on who gets credit for that first brew can get you into a bottomless quagmire. Across the “Pond,” the Norse are reputed to have used coniferous concoctions, spreading the useful information across Europe when they weren’t pillaging. That’s fine, but being Canadian we’ll stick to this shoreline, with the earliest mention dating to the winter of 1536 when scurvy the dreaded disease of adventurers spread among the crew of Jacques Cartier. Most of the crew became ill and many died until the nearby Iroquoians showed the French how to boil evergreen tips for a lifesaving tea. Cartier and his crew, instead of becoming yet another footnote of lost explorers, returned to health. Chalk one for conifer tonic!
Taking spruce tea a step further, Europeans added molasses with yeast to produce a low-alcohol drink and christened it spruce beer. Fur traders brewed it in countless remote outposts and the Hudson Bay Company instructed its employees to drink it daily. By the early 1700s it was being enjoyed all through Atlantic Canada and New England. Unlike expensive wine or hard liquor, which had to be imported, spruce beer was easy to make and offered a healthy drink to boot. The British military issued orders for all ranks to imbibe up to two quarts a day. Spruce beer was also embraced by the globe-trotting Captain Cook who was able to reduce scurvy among his crew. Closer to home, spruce beer was drunk right up to the early 20th century and was known as the cup that cheers but doesn’t inebriate, with everyone, young or old, enjoying it. Newfoundland in particular has a long history of spruce beer, where it was once the common drink of the island.
Anyone looking to try this historic health drink will be surprised at the simplicity of the recipe, which is why it was so popular. A brew of spruce beer will need spruce, no surprise there. Depending on the season, the spruce will have either last year’s growth, or if it’s May or June, it will have shocking green soft tips. All you need is the last five to six inches of the branches. If you pick anything bigger than a lead pencil you’ve gone down the limb too far. Snip off a dozen—and don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt this tough tree. It doesn’t matter which species grow in your area: black or red spruce are the most popular, with white spruce a dismal third. They all produce enough strong flavour.
For this brew we’ll work with a finished product of four litres. The exact number of spruce tips is crucial, as too much will gag you while too few will cause an overly sweet taste, so you’ll likely need to brew several batches. (Darn! Making more beer! Life is so unfair!) Keep track of how many tips and once you get the amount tasting right, mark it on your calendar, as my great aunt always advised. Spring green tip are very strongly-flavoured, while mid-winter spruce is milder.
Get your water boiling in a large pot, and while it sings, prepare the spruce. Use the newest growth tips from the main stem, with two branches on either side. For first timers, go easy on the amount of spruce—a dozen good tips for every four litres. Boil gently for 40 minutes and the water will take on a golden hue—that’s the spruce essence. Shut off the heat, remove the spruce tips, and let it cool. Next, have a glass, plastic or metal kettle ready—something able to hold the four litres with room to spare. Measure out three-quarters cup of molasses—any type—and lastly, get a packet of baker’s yeast. Oh, that baker’s yeast will get the beer brewers grousing hard!
Take a large funnel lined with two folds of clean white cloth, then carefully pour the hot spruce infusion through the funnel. Use a wooden or metal spoon and stir the liquid as you slowly pour in the molasses. Then, we wait until it cools. Once it is just warm, open the yeast and pour in half the packet. Cover the container with something to keep the curious out. I use plastic sandwich wrap, held in place with a large elastic. In a couple hours the brew will begin to froth and bubble, a sure sign it’s working.
Set this aside for three days and in the meantime, rinse out a couple two-litre plastic pop bottles and their screw caps. But don’t use scalding water or they’ll melt.
The initial day will be busy with a froth of fermentation, as will the second, but by the third day there should be only a hint of bubbles. Line the funnel with another clean cloth. A length of clear food grade plastic hose works dandy but so does a measuring cup. Fill the cleaned pop bottles up to the necks where the bottle begins to narrow. Screw on the caps and set your spruce brew back into the ice box for a day, then after it’s chilled, pour a glass.
This heirloom drink is a very interesting beverage. Lacking malt or any grains and with no addition of hops, spruce beer was never intended to be long on the shelf. As the brewers up my way would say, it’s better in the glass than in the jug! Taste-wise, this will be a new experience and one to savour. Spruce beer is dark swirling in the glass, offering comfort like a heavy sweater on a bitter February morning. As you taste it, there it is, spruce: strong and unapologetic. That first sip will reinforce the spruce but has the added gentling of the molasses. The syrupy sensation of molasses invokes a country kitchen bustling with activity and the baker’s yeast disparaged by brewers adds its own feeling of rural comfort. Once past the throat, you’re left with a gritty sensation sort of like swallowing something solid.
This is the sort of drink needed for hard work in the lumber woods, stump-filled fields or on the rolling waves. This is the taste from a time long forgotten, when all you owned you made yourself, including any enjoyment. Those who prefer a tamer brew can limit the molasses to under a quarter cup and feel they have broken no honour by tipping a glass.
Traditions give a person strength in times of struggle, and we’ve sure had had our share lately. It’s heartening to know there’s a hint of cheer to be had in a pint of pitch on a dark winter’s night, and an old heirloom skill is still worth celebrating.
“Scurvy dog” is a popular curse in pirate movies, but in truth it was no joke. Scurvy has been tormenting humankind since before the pharaohs, with a slow lingering death from a diet lacking in Vitamin C. With much tablefare being salted heavily or dried beyond desiccation, scurvy was guaranteed. Long ocean voyages and winters with poor rations all led to scurvy. Symptoms such as lethargy, sores, bleeding gums, swollen joints all pointed to what was usually a death sentence.
Vitamin C can come from many sources including fresh meat, many vegetables and the humble conifer family. The spruces, firs, pines and cedars all have antiscorbutic properties of up to 50 mg of Vitamin C in 100 grams. Needles steeped into a tea not only prevent but even cure scurvy. No wonder the early pioneers all brewed spruce beer so enthusiastically.