Salmiakkikossu

Several weeks ago, I ruined a perfectly good bottle of Grey Goose vodka and turned it into Salmiakkikossu.

I'm not going to lie. The thing scared me. It sat in the office freezer, taunting me every time I walked by. Drink me, it would call, dddrrrriiinnnnnkkkkk meeeee, I dare you to.

There were a few days I felt up to the challenge, but when I opened up the bottle, the smell of burnt liquorice and the thick, syrupy texture made me change my mind. I'll do it tomorrow, I'd tell myself as I corked the bottle of black death and hid it away in the freezer.

Well the time has finally come, and you can once again thank my dear friend Matti Nikki. Well, "friend" is a bit strong of a word... perhaps enabler or wisher-of-serious-pain-and-bodily-harm is a more apt descriptor. Matti encouraged me to go for the goose, and this is what he was referring to.

I felt this taste test called for two trials: sipping Salmiakkikossu while sober, and then drinking it while drunk. After all, nothing makes things taste better than a healthy state of inebration.

I learned some good lessons that night.

1. Scotch and Salmiakkikossu don't pair very well
2. Salmiakkikossu causes severe - and I mean severe - feeling of dehydration
3. When sleeping on the conference room floor, it's best to lay under the table; it's hard for the cleaning staff to vacuum around you otherwise
4. Laying face-down on the cheap, commercial-grade carpet causes a severe case of carpet-face that takes two full days to clear up

As for the Salmiakkikossu, it wasn't that bad... and it got better the more I drank it. The homemade variety wasn't as good, but both had a sweet and spicy flavor, not unlike sambuca or ouzo. The salt comes in much later, and it comes in fury.

Overall, it deserves a conditional halfway-decent rating: drink only while already sufficiently liquored-up.