Vanessa Austin Locke: Drinks to famous Seamus

There are few better reasons to drink than death, and none better than the death of a poet. Seamus Heaney’s passing did what any ripe and rich death does after a full and productive life; it made me feel thankful rather than bereft.

When I was 22 I was published in The London Magazine, and just a page away from me was a poem by Heaney. I savoured that moment and, though I never met him, I feel as though I was in an earthy room with him for a moment. The opening two lines of ‘Lauds And Gauds For A Laureate’, which was published in TLM August/September 2007 and read,

“The work you’re going to hear to-night
By one who’s earned the right to write”

“As if Bacchus himself had planned it, the season’s turned just in time”

Pulled me up short. I had never considered that I must earn my right to write. But it’s true, and it’s been my critic, friend and tormentor ever since as I struggle to find a voice within me that’s worth listening to. Sometimes I think I’ve succeeded for a line or two, but mostly I fail, and return to the page with the tools of observance and excavation, and those two lines ringing in my ears.
For now let’s return to Heaney as I continue to earn my right to write. As far as I’m concerned, there’s only one drink to raise to him, and as if Bacchus himself had planned it, the season’s turned just in time.

All you need to make sloe gin is: 750-800ml of gin (cheap gin is fine no matter what Sipsmith try and tell you), 350-400g of sugar (granulated or castor – I prefer granulated because I think that a slower dissolve is better but I have no proof that this is the case), and about 500g of sloes.

There are several great places to forage for sloes in Sussex and Surrey but part of the fun is finding them, so I’m not going to tell you mine, or my foraging buddies will lynch me. The best tip I’ve found for making sloe gin is from Nigel Slater, who pricks each sloe with a needle several times rather than freezing and bashing them. They don’t call it slow gin for nothing, but it’s a yearly ritual that I just love to observe. Divide the ingredients between your (sterilised) bottles, seal and leave them in a cool, dark place for 10 week, making sure you turn the bottles every now and then. Open and raise your glass to Seamus Heaney whilst reading his famous poem, Sloe Gin, the last verse of which below:

Sloe Gin

I drink to you
in smoke-mirled,
blue-black sloes,
bitter and dependable.

Seamus Heaney (1984)
Station Island

Available from Macmillan (reprint edition 1986)

Follow me: @vnessenvy