Birch Juice

There is - I hadn't realised this before - a Polish delicatessen near where I live. I went in for the first time a few days ago. The proprietor was being given the hard sell by an Italian, who wanted him to buy a coffee machine, and turn this rather dodgy corner of the town into a continental-style pavement cafe, which I thought was a step too far. But I was so delighted to find somewhere selling all my favourite Eastern European things that I didn't really register any of their altercation. Instead, I was stocking up on Borzhomi mineral water (so what if the Russian government claims it's contaminated with benzene? They only say one bottle in three - I like those odds). Also, there's a lot of joy to be had in looking at the shelves full of meat-in-jars, cucumbers-in-jars, mushrooms-in-jars. But on the way to the counter I noticed the shelves of fruit juice - rowanberry juice, blackcurrant juice... And the Byelorussian carton I didn't understand at all: 'сок березовый'. Or, in English, Birch Juice. Into the trolley with it. I put it in the fridge when I got home and then went to Spain to see Marian. I got back yesterday and realised this morning that it was a challenge I could no longer avoid.

Birch juice is a colourless liquid: I thought for a moment that it might be some elaborate Byelorussian joke, along the lines of 'sky nails' or 'elbow grease'. Run along to the shops and buy us a pint - ha ha ha - of birch juice. And get us a parting wrench while you're at it. But it is slightly more viscous than water, and leaves a faint oily sheen on the sides of the glass. It has a fresh, faintly intriguing smell, like an empty paint tin which someone has rubbed - about four years ago - with a lemon. I was going to take a glass into my room to taste it in private, but Ben said 'Drink it here. I want to see your face.' So.

Birch juice tastes of syrup - sugar water - with a mildly unpleasant aftertaste: like rotten apples. Or rather, like licking the cask that rotten apples have been packed in. Either way, one to avoid. And I have about three-quarters of a litre left. I wonder if it's good for the plants?