Elixir of the Gods
Just about every ancient culture had a tradition of altering consciousness through drink or narcotic substances. Around 10 to 12,000 years ago, at the start of what archaeologists call the Neolithic period, bands of hunter-gatherers began settling down to grow crops, domesticate animals and get down with their party selves.
These societies did not explain their universe with science or with belief in a single god—their world was defined by a pantheon of gods and goddesses, animal spirits and ill-minded demons. Beliefs were steeped in the mysterious and were often closely tied to the plants and animals of their sphere.
Dr. Patrick McGovern of the University of Pennsylvania Museum points out, “The mind-altering effects of a fermented beverage, as well as the mysterious process of fermentation, probably account for why fermented beverages came to dominate entire economies, religions and societies over time.” Indeed, to drink the tribal brew was to be one step closer to the spiritual world.
Take the Vikings. In their mythology, warriors who died in battle passed on to Valhalla. Once there, you’d find yourself in a gigantic gilded beer hall where endless mead was produced by Odin’s magical ewe Heiðrún. But just so fierce warriors wouldn’t get soft from all the boozing, you would battle with each other all day, drink all night and in the morning wake up feeling better and do it all over again. In Valhalla you had ultimate fighting in an ultimate man cave.
Vikings did not live on just mead and ale. We know they preserved fish and meat, and they ate cheese and eggs of all sorts, which meant they kept animals. Making sheep’s cheese was a prized means of preserving milk for the rest of the year. Whey, the lactose-rich, greenish water leftover from making cheese, is most often fed to farm animals. The ingenious Norse put it to a different use, however; fermenting it into a drink called blaand. How can we be sure that what flowed from the great Heiðrún’s hydrant wasn’t really blaand?
As anyone who has ever made a cream stout knows, beer yeast does not digest lactose. That’s why a cream stout is sweet and full-bodied. But have you ever heard of a cream lambic? No. And you won’t anytime soon. It is with the help of the wild yeast Kluyveromyces and lactic acid bacteria similar to those in a Belgian sour that lactose can be broken down for fermentation. Blaand was kept in barrels where one could draw off a portion of the sour elixir, then replace the void with more whey and possibly extra sweetener when it became available. Think of it like sourdough bread with benefits.
Copping a buzz was an essential ritual for the Vikings. Their very version of heaven was swimming in alcohol. So were they really restless and violent? Or did their love of drink drive them from rocky headlands in search of barley fields, beehives and greener pastures for their herds?
