In her continuing series on the Baltics, writer Betsa Marsh takes us on another culinary adventure – this time to Riga for seafood, sweets and something she was warned off of. 

There’s always time for a truffle break at Rienzi Café, in central Riga. The chocolate pyramid is Black Balzam liqueur, left, cranberry, top, and cappuccino, right.

We can’t say we weren’t warned. When my travel pal Pat and I told our Latvian friend back home that we were heading to Riga, she’d actually shivered. “Whatever you do, don’t drink that Black Balzams. It’s hideous!”

And yet here we are, Pat and I, fresh off the plane, wandering the main Kalku Street of Riga, seduced by a carved wooden storefront. No one, we contend, could resist this time capsule called Black Magic.

We tumble in, pulled deep into a shadowy stage set of cozy club chairs, red velvet drapes and a glowing fire. Even once we realize every dessert is created around Riga Black Balzams, we can’t bring ourselves to flee. Abandon all hope…

The inky, 45-proof liqueur has its own mythology, first spun by pharmacist Abraham Kunze in the 1700s. His secret recipe blends more than a dozen ingredients, such as oak bark, wormwood and linden blossoms. Kunze claimed it cured Russia’s Catherine the Great, and Latvian seniors still swear a shot a day gets them to old age.

Black Balzam liqueur works its way into each dessert at Black Magic, a Gothic café in central Riga.

Surely it couldn’t hurt to try a bit of Black and White meringue or a slice of blackcurrant torte, both spiked with Black Balzam. The flavor is a bit like licorice, allspice and mace, not bad with a foamy cappuccino. While you’ll have better cake and crisper meringue elsewhere, you may never savor such a seductive Gothic aura anywhere else.

Seafood in Riga? Yes, please

We’re so devoted, we’ve followed the Baltic Sea deep into Latvia to taste the best from its lines and nets. That leads us through the heavy doors of Riga’s Central Market, to confront a world of sea creatures stretching to the horizon line.

Every form of seafood stretches to the horizon line at Riga’s Central Market.

Dozens of stalls sell a menagerie we’ve never seen or heard of before, seafood right out of the waves. Little tractors zoom through the aisles, supplying the icy display cases, and I spot fishtails still flopping in the moving carts.

“Vast” doesn’t touch this market, five World War I German dirigible hangers put to brilliant civilian service. Plus acres more of vegetables, clothes, and housewares beyond.

We pop into a diner next to the seafood stalls and enjoy a few curls of the freshest smoked salmon for less than you’d pay for a hot dog in the States. And there’s still time left to shop for Baltic amber and try some honey vodka at a kiosk. The firewater is so wicked strong that we gladly share it with a gentleman who wanders over to check out the stand—no germ could survive it.

Latvians love their dark bread in hearty portions, as here at the Central Market.

Lido with the locals 

Inspired by the Central Market’s spectrum of Latvian food, it’s time to pull up a chair at one of the Lido smorgasbord restaurants.

Station after station lures diners on with roasted pork, grilled salmon and potato salad enrobed with dill and sour cream.

Salmon is hot off the grill at Lido smorgasbord.

The Lido we try is so high-volume that fish and chicken grill in real time, potatoes tumble out of the frying pan, and vegetables roast to tenderness just as they might in a posh open-kitchen restaurant.

All the produce, seafood, beef and pork in such profusion at the markets has been transformed here, so it pays to reconnoiter first, checking out the English labels. But it’s still hard to edit when everything sizzling and grilling looks and smells so good.

Lounging by the yacht club in Riga

When we want to settle into a stylish dinner, Muusu in Riga’s city center would be a natural. But we choose to stretch out a late-summer’s evening along the water at its seasonal sister, Muusu Terase.

Our terrace seats rise above Latvia’s largest river, Daugava, and look out to the yacht marina. We watch boats glide by as chefs grill our sea bass over charcoal.

Sea bass meets charcoal grilling at Muusu Terase, overlooking the Riga yacht club on Latvia’s largest river, Daugava.

For dessert, let’s share one of the strangest combos we’ve ever seen: fried banana with salted caramel sauce, popcorn and pistachio parfait. We take a breath, then tried tiny, tentative spoonfuls. Soon, we’re wishing for take-away.

WHEN YOU GO 

TIP: Breakfast doesn’t get any flakier than the handmade croissants at Cadets de Gascogne boulangerie. The French bread, macarons and quiches are ready for take-away, too.

To learn more about Latvia Travel, visit this website.

— Story and photos by Betsa Marsh

Hungry for more? Be fully prepared to enjoy the Baltics, fully, with Betsa’s articles about Talinn, and Helsinki.