A Honey of a Winter Drink

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ntil the turn of the twentieth century, a common winter sight in Russian cities and towns was the sbitenshchik, a vendor of a spiced honey drink that acts as the perfect antidote to the cold. This drink, sbiten, is one of Russia’s most traditional beverages, known since the fourteenth century.

Two different methods are used to prepare sbiten. The first, as in the recipe below, calls simply for heating honey with water and spices, then perhaps fortifying it with wine, brandy, or vodka. A more complex version is made by pounding both herbs and spices in a mortar (hence the name sbiten, from the verb sbit — to beat or to pound). Honey or molasses is added to the powder, and the mixture is left to ferment slightly before stirring in boiling water to produce a lightly alcoholic drink. 

Street vendors generally sold non-alcoholic sbiten, but the fortified drink could be had in taverns and restaurants. In either case, typical ingredients included St. John’s wort, sage, hot pepper, ginger, black pepper, cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, nutmeg, and bay leaf. Many of these spices have beneficial warming properties, and the Russians considered sbiten both healthy and nutritious. In fact, they used it in folk medicine as a scurvy preventative.

As they wandered the streets, the sbitenshchiki carried samovar-like urns (sbitenniki) strapped to their backs. The urns were filled with hot coals and covered with layers of heavy cloth to keep the drink hot. Around the vendors’ waists hung towels and pot-bellied mugs with concave rims to prevent lips from getting burned. The sbitenshchiki were famous for their colorful cries as they hawked the beverage.

Sbiten was also sold in special shops (sbitennoi kuren), which were little more than shacks. Frequented especially by cabbies and shopkeepers who had to endure long hours in the cold, these shacks had a large window displaying a huge urn. In Dead Souls, Gogol describes a provincial sbiten shop:  “…down below was a little shop with horse collars, ropes, and ring-shaped rolls. In the corner or, better yet, in the window was a sbiten seller with a copper samovar and a face as red as the samovar, so that from a distance it might seem as though two samovars were standing on the sill, if only one of them hadn’t had a beard as black as pitch.” 

Sbiten had its heydey in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. But when tea became more widely available, and cheaper, the urns that had served the sbiten sellers so well began to be used for tea. As the Russians developed a taste for tea, the traditional sbiten fell out of favor, and by the late nineteenth century, sbitenshchiki had largely disappeared from the urban landscape.

It’s time to resurrect this venerable Russian drink, and what better time than in the depths of winter? The simple recipe below will warm body and soul. In true Russian style, be sure to serve the sbiten with gingerbread, cookies, or pirozhki.

— Darra Goldstein

Sbiten • ë·ËÚÂ̸

4 cups water

1⁄2 cup sugar

1⁄2 cup honey

6 whole cloves

8 whole cardamom pods, peeled

2 cinnamon sticks

1⁄2 teaspoon dried mint flakes

1 teaspoon grated lemon rind

Nutmeg