Before there was chocolate vodka & peanut butter vodka with jelly-vodka chasers & cookie-dough vodka, before there was cake-batter vodka & powdered-doughnut vodka & conversation-heart vodka with real messages sprinkled in, before there was stuffed-French-toast vodka & baklava vodka & flaming crêpes-Suzette vodka, there was Polish honey vodka.
Krupnik1_2
It’s called liqueur for the same reason restaurants with limited liquor licenses, covering beer, wine & cordials only, can carry the coconut-marshmallow vodkas of the world: none of it technically counts as hard liquor because its sugar content is too high.
So, speaking of being too high, I tried this stuff recently at a friend’s dinner party, expecting it to taste like mead—you know, the stuff English majors like to guzzle from pewter steins while perched on rooftops clad in cloaks & trying to outquote each other (so I’ve heard)—but no, this doesn’t lull, it braces, it has the sort of jagged edge a 13th century Polish peasant would surely need to slice his brain into pieces with after a dinner of rocks in his hut made of snow following a 112-hour day in the wormfields.
But even if it didn’t taste hardcore, it’d be hardcore by virtue of the name, which sounds like if you came over & I offered you a glass you wouldn’t know whether to say “fuck off” or “bless you.” Or both.