Krupnik (Honey Vodka) -- A Little Polish Magic to Close Out Summerfest Week

Fourth of July week, which in Milwaukee means one thing: Summerfest. Eleven days of music, beer, and questionable food choices on the lakefront. This was my fourth year going and my first year being able to actually appreciate the beer selection, since I now know the difference between a lager and a session IPA and can have opinions about both. Kevin and I went on Thursday night. We saw a country band that was mediocre and a rock cover band that was surprisingly great, and we ate our body weight in cheese curds. Deep-fried cheese curds are Wisconsin's greatest contribution to civilization and I will not be taking questions on this. We also had corn on the cob, a funnel cake, and something called a "walking taco" which is Doritos in a bag with taco meat poured on top. It was disgusting and delicious, which is the Summerfest food motto. Here's the thing about festival food though — and I'm only starting to notice this because of the brewery and Babcia — most of it is garbage. I don't mean it tastes bad. I mean there's no thought in it. It's just grease and salt and sugar designed to be eaten standing up while drunk. Compare that to Babcia's pierogi, where every ingredient has a reason and every step has a purpose, and festival food feels hollow. I'm not being a snob about it. I still ate all of it. But I noticed the difference. That's new. At the brewery, the cherry wheat is the number one seller in the taproom. Marcus is pleased, which means he nodded slightly more than usual. I'm being asked to help with more recipes now — the head brewer wants to do an Oktoberfest lager for fall and wants my input on the malt bill. My input. A year ago I was stacking kegs. Wild. Sunday at Babcia's was a smaller crew — just me, Mom, and Babcia. Dad was working overtime (the city electrical department doesn't take holidays off when storms knock out power lines). Babcia made a simple meal: kielbasa, fresh bread, tomato and cucumber salad. We ate in her backyard, which is tiny but has a garden — tomatoes, cucumbers, dill, and flowers I can't name. It was seventy-five degrees and the sun was setting and Babcia was telling a story about Dziadek Stefan proposing to her at a dance in 1956. She laughed the way old people laugh when they remember being young. It was perfect.

That Sunday evening in Babcia’s backyard — kielbasa, cucumber salad, the smell of her garden, and a story about Dziadek Stefan from 1956 — is the kind of thing I want to hold onto. It made me think about what it means to celebrate with intention, the way she always has. Krupnik, the classic Polish spiced honey vodka, is exactly the kind of drink that belongs at that table: warm, unhurried, and made with care rather than grabbed from a festival booth. If you’ve got Polish roots or just want to raise a glass to someone who does, this one’s worth making.

Krupnik (Honey Vodka)

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes (plus cooling) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 cups honey (preferably wildflower or buckwheat)
• 1 cup water
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 6 whole cloves
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
• 4 allspice berries
• 1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise
• Zest of 1 orange (peeled in wide strips)
• Zest of 1 lemon (peeled in wide strips)
• 2 cups good-quality vodka (80 proof)

Instructions

1. Combine and simmer. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, combine the honey, water, cinnamon stick, cloves, nutmeg, allspice, vanilla bean, orange zest, and lemon zest. Stir gently and bring to a low simmer. Do not boil — you want the spices to bloom and the honey to fully dissolve, about 15 minutes.
2. Remove from heat. Take the saucepan off the heat and allow the spiced honey mixture to cool for 5 minutes. The aroma should be warm, floral, and spiced.
3. Add the vodka. Carefully pour in the vodka and stir to combine. Do not add the vodka while the mixture is still on the heat.
4. Steep and strain. Let the mixture steep at room temperature for at least 1 hour, or up to 24 hours for a deeper spice flavor. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve or cheesecloth into a clean glass bottle or jar, discarding the solids.
5. Serve. Krupnik can be served warm in small glasses (gently reheat in a saucepan — do not microwave) or chilled over ice. Store sealed at room temperature for up to 3 months.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 165 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 2mg