From her perch near Uncle Bernie’s Christmas tree, my grandmother beckoned me over. “Hey kiddo,” she whispered, her ice blue eyes flashing. “Get me a little glass of that viryta over there and I’ll split it with you.”

This was a surprising proposition for a number of reasons. Viryta (pronounced “vititis”)—a traditional holiday drink made by my Lithuanian-American relatives—is mostly made of honey and grain alcohol, two things I knew my diabetic grandmother should not have been ingesting. Secondly, I was 14 and my very strict parents would have never approved of me drinking alcohol. 

But that didn’t stop me from sliding over to Uncle Bernie’s bar cart in my teal taffeta dress on that day in December 1992. I looked around to make sure no one was watching, pried off the stopper of a crystal decanter, and poured a swig of the golden liquid into a shot glass.

Grandmom smiled when I handed her the glass. She was in her early 80s, her mobility limited by a couple small strokes, but she was impeccably dressed, with a rhinestone pin glinting on her wool blazer. She drank half of the shot, then handed the rest to me. I took a small sip—detecting cinnamon, licorice, honey, and very strong booze. It tasted like the holidays boiled down into a sweet syrup. I finished the glass, feeling a wave of warmth roll through my body. 

It would be another decade or so before I drank viryta again. Around that time, Lithuanian Hall—the Pigtown social club that had been a community hub for my grandparents, aunts, and uncles—began hosting dance parties, which continue to this day. I bought rounds of viryta for friends and told them about my grandmother, who grew up nearby when the neighborhood was full of Lithuanian immigrants. Her family owned a tailor shop and she was forced to leave school after fifth grade to work there. (Her first job was punching buttons out of oyster shells.) Despite her lack of formal education, Grandmom loved to read and crushed everyone else in the family at Scrabble.

This year, I decided it would be fun to make viryta as a holiday gift for friends and neighbors. My Uncle Bernie, now in his 80s himself, emailed me his recipe along with a few notes. The drink is called “krupnikas” in Lithuania, he explained, and a version of it is made in the coal region of Pennsylvania (also home to many Lithuanian immigrants), where it is called “boilo.”

Lithuanian Hall manager Egle Noeth, who is originally from Lithuania, confirmed that the drink is called “krupnikas” there and it seems to be referred to as “viryta” (which derives from the Lithuanian word “to boil”) only in the Baltimore area. Viryta remains popular with guests at Lithuanian Hall, which celebrated its hundredth anniversary last month. 

“It’s our signature drink,” Noeth says. “When people come in, they want to try it and they like it. It reminds them of the holidays.” 

It seems that everyone makes viryta a little differently. Noeth says that the person who previously brewed it for the hall included small quantities of rue, the national herb of Lithuania. I found several recipes online, none of which mentioned rue, but each calling for a different blend of spices. Some include vanilla, cloves, cardamom, anise, and black pepper. One calls for Pikesville Rye instead of grain alcohol or vodka. That recipe, from Annapolis entrepreneur Natalie Franke, is a favorite of mine since she notes that “Lithuanians do not use recipes.” (Now I can blame my habit of not following recipes on my DNA.)

Uncle Bernie’s recipe calls for boiling orange and grapefruit peels with cinnamon sticks, allspice, lemon juice, and crystalized ginger before straining the mixture and then stirring it into boiled honey. A retired physician, Uncle Bernie suggested using vodka instead of the traditional grain alcohol, “for a more temperate approach.” 

In the spirit of sharing some holiday cheer, here is the recipe that I followed (more or less) to produce viryta this season. My husband and I have brewed two batches of it in the evenings after putting our kids to bed. It takes about a week for the flavors to meld together, but then it is sweet, strong, and spicy—much like my memories of long-ago family parties.  

Ingredients:

• The peel of one orange and one lemon (use a peeler to get the flavorful zest and avoid the white pithy parts)
• Three cinnamon sticks
• One vanilla pod, split open
• Three-inch ginger root, peeled and cut
• One tablespoon caraway seed
• Three cloves
• Five balls of allspice
• Two tablespoons of cardamom seeds
• One half of a nutmeg seed
• One tablespoon anise seed
• Two quarts of water
• Two pounds of honey
• One handle of vodka (doesn’t need to be the fancy kind)

Directions:

1. Lightly crush all spices, add to water with citrus peels, bring to a boil and simmer for 45 minutes. 
2. Separately in a double boiler, heat honey to boiling. Use a wooden spoon to remove foam and impurities that arise from the honey. 
3. Pour the spice and water mixture through cheesecloth and collect the clear liquid. Slowly stir into the honey. 
4. Turn off the heat and slowly stir the vodka into the spiced honey mixture. Filter through cheesecloth again to remove traces of spices. 
5. Pour viryta into bottles and allow to mellow for at least a week. The flavor will only improve with time and it will keep indefinitely. 

 

Sveikata!

A rosette of prosciutto. A twirl of lemon slices. A coil of crackers amid a constellation of cheeses. Stacey Vaughan’s friends had long oohed and ahhed over the charcuterie boards she brought to parties. Then, a few months ago, a neighbor suggested she start selling them. 

So Vaughan began hawking boxes of cured meats, cheese, and other deliciousness from her Canton home, a business she named Bon Apple Cheese. (“Puns—that’s where I shine,” she says). On sunny days, there is often a short line in front of her home, as people pick up boxes of charcuterie and walk to Patterson Park. There are boxes made for sharing, such as “The Stoop Night” or “The Boozy Brunch,” and an individual charcuterie box named “The ‘Rona,” of course. 

 “It’s a creative outlet for me,” says Vaughan, a neonatal intensive care nurse. “The past year has been so intense for everyone, I wanted to do something in my free time that was the complete opposite of my work. I love the little community that is forming outside my windows. I think people want an excuse to do something wholesome like this, having a picnic in the park with friends.” 

Vaughan is among a handful of Baltimoreans who have launched charcuterie businesses over the past few years. Among the first was Liz Flores, a professional caterer who started Highland Graze Company in 2019. While the tradition of curing meats originated in ancient Rome and the word “charcuterie” comes from French, it was the Australians who began flooding social media a few years ago with artfully arranged “grazing tables” of meats, cheeses, and fruits, Flores says.  

“You used to go to weddings and there was always steak and mashed potatoes,” says Flores. “But over the past decade or so, you started to see all of the creative appetizers: soft pretzel bars and pizza bars. Grazing tables are an outgrowth of that. Everyone wants food that looks good and isn’t too filling, Instagrammable food.” 

When COVID-19 hit last year, many traditional catering opportunities—weddings, graduation parties, corporate gatherings—evaporated. So Flores began making smaller, boxed versions of her grazing tables. The Stoneleigh resident advertised them through social media and orders began pouring in. Couples ordered the boxes for a romantic evening at home, while others gave them as gifts or a way to show appreciation to employees. Flores and her team delivered the boxes along routes stretching from Parkton to Sykesville to Annapolis.  

Flores partners with local farmers, butchers, and cheesemakers to create the boxes, often building an arrangement around ingredients that are currently available. “We might find a really cool blue cheese or a perfect brie. I have connections with local farmers growing apricots and figs,” she says. “And I just found a great farmer in Monkton who is going to hook us up with edible flowers.” 

Highland Graze boxes usually include two or three cured meats accompanied by a variety of cheeses, crackers, fruits, and spreads. “We like to add the traditional berries and grapes, but also have citrus fruits as a palate cleanser,” Flores says. “We just had some wonderful raspberry oranges we were working with.” 

Much of the fun of putting together a charcuterie plate is coming up with the perfect bites, or ways to combine the ingredients, says Vaughan. “It turns out it’s really personal,” she says. “I have a friend whose thing is brie, strawberry, and a little bit of honey. My favorite is a savory cracker with goat cheese, chocolate, and a little drizzle of honey.” 

She is always on the hunt for interesting crackers and fruits, and tries to purchase as many locally made products as possible. She usually buys meats from DiPasquales, cheeses from Whole Foods, jams from Atwater’s, and honey from Baltimore-based Bee Friendly Apiary. 

She has also teamed up with Mobtown Brewing Company to create boxes that complement their beers. Most recently, she worked with nearby exercise studio, Capacity Fitness, to create a special assortment for members. Vaughan has even created “charKIDerie” boxes—packed with Goldfish crackers, veggies, hummus, and cute cut-outs of cheese—as well as “Barkuterie” boxes for furry friends. 

“Once I started making those, a bunch of dogs started following me on Instagram,” she says.  

For Flores, the ebbing of the pandemic has led to increased orders for traditional catering, as well as requests for crowd-sized grazing tables. To prepare those, she begins by laying fresh herbs on the table, then piling on artichokes, cherries, figs, wheels of brie, honeycombs, and slices of crusty bread, like a banquet from a Roman bacchanal. 

Flores, who is preparing to move her catering business into north Baltimore’s Bmore Kitchen incubator space, said she attempted to offer fewer charcuterie boxes as orders for parties and weddings have increased.  

“We tried to cut back and our customers lost it,” she says. “They need their charcuterie boxes.”

Feeling inspired? Stock up on ingredients to build your own board at these area shops:

818 Market: Head to this new market, bar, and cafe in Catonsville to snag all of the essentials from its in-house cheese shop. Browse an impressive selection of meats and cheeses, as well as nuts, dried fruit, and the requisite crackers. 

Cheese Galore and More: Federal Hill locals have made this one-stop-shop a destination for all of their charcuterie needs. Find everything from brie and bleu to goat and gouda, as well as locally sourced pantry items to craft your custom snack spread. 

The French Paradox: Pick up charcuterie staples while browsing wines and spirits at this Stevenson Village Shopping Center fixture. 

The Wine Source: Hang a left when you walk into this Hampden spirits shop and you’ll find a large display of meats, cheeses, crackers, and other local goodies.

Firefly Farms Market: The team at this stall inside Hampden’s Whitehall Market sells varieties sourced from its namesake farm in Western Maryland. Plus, they offer breads, crackers, chips, meats, and sweets if you’re hoping to feature a little bit of everything.