Børnegløgg (Children's Gløgg)

December in Denmark is dark by three in the afternoon. The candles go on, the windows glow, and somewhere in the kitchen a pot of gløgg is warming. There are always two pots. One for the adults, with red wine and port and a nip of aquavit. One for the children. The children's pot matters just as much.

Børnegløgg is not a lesser version of anything. It's red grape juice heated gently with the same spices that scent the adult gløgg: cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, star anise, and strips of orange peel. The raisins and blanched almonds go into every cup, because the ritual is the point. Children sit at the same table, hold the same warm cups, fish out the same swollen raisins with a spoon. In a country where faellesspisning, the shared meal, is how we show each other we belong, this is how you tell a child they're part of it.

The only thing I want you to watch is the heat. Grape juice is not wine. It turns bitter if you boil it, and you lose the bright, clean fruitiness that makes this drink what it is. Keep it just below a simmer, let the spices steep slowly, and taste before you serve. The warmth should come from the cup in your hands and the spice on your tongue, not from any violence done to the juice. You'll know when it's right.