Porsesnaps

Late May on the Jutland heath. The ground is still damp from spring rain, and the air carries something sharp and green, resinous, almost medicinal. That's pors. Bog myrtle. It grows low and dense across the wet heathland, and if you crush a leaf between your fingers, the scent stays with you for an hour. This is the plant that gives porsesnaps its soul.

Porsesnaps is one of the oldest drinks in the Danish tradition, older than the word aquavit. You take fresh bog myrtle leaves, still warm from the afternoon sun, and steep them in clear spirit until the liquid turns pale gold and tastes of the heath: herbal, slightly bitter, with a resinous warmth that sits in the back of your throat. The process could not be simpler. You put leaves in a bottle, pour spirit over them, and wait. The joy of waiting is the whole recipe.

What I want you to understand is this: porsesnaps is not about precision. It's about the plant. If your bog myrtle is fresh and aromatic, the snaps will be good. If the leaves are old or stale, no amount of steeping will rescue it. The season decides, and the season for pors is late May through June, when the leaves are young and full of oil. Start there, and the rest takes care of itself.