MEET THE MAKER
From his bucolic base in northern Latvia, Ervins Labanovsk is uses his family’s traditional method to turn birch sap into drinks and syrups
“When Latvians drink birch sap, it ’s a sign of spring coming,” says Ervins Labanovskis. It ’s been consumed here for centuries; folk songs reference the birch tree’s alleged magical and medicinal powers, and many Latvians believe drinking the sap detoxifies the body.
Ervins runs an organic birch-sap business from his home — atimber cottage in Smiltene, northern Latvia, where he spent holidays as a child. He uses sap to make sparkling drinks via a method that dates back to his parents, who’d ferment it in champagne bottles and infuse it with peppermint. As an adult, Ervins recreated the drink in his own kitchen, before teaming up with his sister, Nora, to turn their parents’ idea into a business called BIRZĪ, adding a small factor y and tasting room to their 80-acre, birch-dotted plot at Smiltene.
The harvesting window is incredibly slim: Ervins and his seasonal team of 15 have just three weeks to collect as much sap as possible by making a non-damaging hole in the birch trunk, inserting a tap and allowing the sap to trickle out, drop by drop. This has historically taken place in April, known as ‘sulu mēnesis’ (sap mont h) in the Latvian calendar, but warmer winters in recent years have meant the birches have been ready for tapping in March.
“For birch trees to get a good sap season, they need a freezing winter, so climate change is a big concern,” says Ervins. The trees become dormant in subzero temperatures, when the sugar used in sap production is redirected to the roots. It then moves back up the tree, ready for spring.
In 2022, 80,000 litres of sap were collected at BIRZĪ — agood year for a small outfit. It’s bottled, with a third sold to be drunk fresh and another third boiled to make syrup, which has a smok y tang that pairs well with cheese and grilled meats. The remainder undergoes double fermentation, emerging six months later as a non-a
