S.F.’s Volta introduces aquavit to American palates

To the American palate, aquavit can seem like one of those austere, unfriendly, searingly boozy spirits beloved by people in some exotic place — but bewildering to us in the land of Coca-Cola.

(See also: raki, grappa, shochu.) Not helping its case in America is the fact that the 40-ish percent ABV spirit is meant to be served as a snaps — sipped from a shot glass neat, never on the rocks.

Which is why Staffan Terje, the chef and co-owner of Volta restaurant, was surprised to learn that there was a growing chorus of American distilleries producing aquavit.

[...] aquavit would play a role, but shockingly little of the spirit is imported from Scandinavia.

Aquavit is produced by flavoring a neutral spirit, such as grain alcohol or potato vodka, with spices, herbs and fruits, typically caraway and dill seed.

The add-ons are a free-for-all in Scandinavian countries, but the U.S. mandates that anything labeled “aquavit” must include caraway.

Terje features several selections from one of his favorite producers, Old Ballard Liquor Co. in Seattle, whose Alskar ($8/glass) is citrus-dominant, like a less cloying version of Absolut Citron.

The restaurant’s exceptional Herring x 5 ($19), which features five preparations of herring, calls for a range of aquavit styles: maybe the Ovrevann ($9) from Duluth, Minn.’s Vikre distillery (subtle, delicate, but with a light smokiness) with the white vinegar-pickled herring, then something barrel-aged, like Vikre’s warm-spiced Voyageur ($10), with the heavier herrings in madras curry and with dijon mustard.

Part of his tradition, too, is “eating and drinking for a long time”; Terje describes parties where dessert is served at 10 p.m., then stomachs settle for some steak tartare after midnight.

If after all this you’re still not game for sipping liquor out of a shot glass, you might consider the Volta! cocktail ($12) your gateway.

Made with carrot juice, honey, lemon and Volta’s house-infused aquavit (caraway, dill seed, Douglas fir, juniper), it’s a deftly balanced drink, tasting neither like too-sweet fruit juice nor like a juice cleanse.

If Volta’s customers are willing to try five different preserved herrings, will they go for aquavit? “It’s definitely an acquired taste,” I heard more than one person remark euphemistically at the bar on a recent evening.

Terje says that even Swedes are beer drinkers at heart, now mostly drinking aquavit on festive occasions.