The Heavy Water War

I love a drama that is set during times and circumstances that were pivotal in history. This past spring, while perusing the suggestions Netflix made for me based on previous programs I’d watched, I stumbled upon The Heavy Water War — a six episode miniseries produced by the Norwegian Broadcasting Corporation. (It’s title in Norwegian is Kampen om tungtvannet and in the UK it was titled The Saboteurs.)

Directed by Per-Olav Sørensen, the series was filmed in Norway and the Czech Republic. The Heavy Water War tells the story of the German atomic weapons program during the Second World War. At the outset of the series we see the events unfold from two different perspectives.

On the German side we watch Werner Heisenberg struggle with his conscience as he realizes the potential devastation a weapon derived from a tiny amount of radioactive uranium could wreck on the world.

On the Allied side, we see the story focus on Norwegian Intelligence Officer, Lief Tronstad, as he oversees the planning and training for a mission by the British Army and Norwegian resistance fighters to sabotage the facility in Norway that produces heavy water (deuterium oxide – D2O, a necessary component in the production of a nuclear reaction).

The series begins with the invasion of Norway by Germany and Tronstad escaping to Britain to warn the Allies of his suspicions that the Germans are attempting to build an atomic bomb. As the Germans take over the country, production is doubled at the heavy water facility, Rjukan.

When Tronstad establishes contact with the War Ministry, a plan to destroy the Hydro facilities is drawn up. In Rjukan, new managing director Erik Henriksen is tasked with rooting out suspected saboteurs from the heavy water facility, after the first attempt, Operation Grouse, is a disastrous failure.

Even though the production facility is nearly impenetrable to bombs, the American Allies press the British and Norwegians for a bombing raid. Nevertheless,Tronstad persuades the Allies to send in a team of Norwegians instead. In Germany, Nobel Prize winner Werner Heisenberg promises a breakthrough in the development of a Nazi atomic bomb. He is not entirely trusted by the German government and is under constant scrutiny.

Without revealing any spoilers, this story was as exciting and nerve wracking as any spy thriller a fiction writer could invent in the pages of a novel. I highly recommend this series not just to history buffs, but to anyone who enjoys an edge-of-your-seat adventure!

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Port out, starboard home – that’s right it’s posh.

And that is apropos of nothing… It’s week 26 in The Year of Drinking Adventurously! This week its port and wow, we’re halfway through the year. Well, that’s depressing…

Eh, I suppose serving port at your dinner party is a posh thing to do. If you are serving it, it comes after the meal and there’s a ritual involved. But first, what is port?

Back in the days of war between Britain and France, the British decided to quit drinking French wines. Nevertheless the thirsty population needed an alternative. Enter wine from Douros, Portugal. The trouble was that in the days of lengthy sea voyages, the wine fared badly. Thus the British had to find a way to make the wine more seaworthy. The answer? Halt the fermentation process part way through and fortify it with brandy! Which then leaves a considerably sweeter and more potent alcoholic beverage.

The port I chose to try was a tawny port. Tawny refers to the light brown, sandy color of the wine – a result of aging in barrels. Food pairings with a tawny port include brie, nuts and dark chocolate. Sounds pretty decadent, right? Also sounds better suited to a cold winter’s night if you ask me… Alas, I’m just following my guide.

The port should be served in a white wine glass. The whole idea of port having a special glass or being served in a brandy snifter is merely a marketing ploy. Oh and I mentioned the ritual…

The port should be opened and transferred to a decanter. The person with the decanter pours their own glass and then passes the decanter to the left. Don’t pour for that person, only for yourself. It’s a big faux pas to pass the bottle the wrong way and to let the decanter sit too long in front of you when your fellow drinkers are waiting to top off their glasses.

My port experience was preferable to that of my experience with sherry. Although sweet and strong, the port made a nice after dinner drink to accompany a bite of dark Belgian chocolate with hazelnuts. Nevertheless the bottle will have to wait for a chilly, rainy day to get opened again!

Go see how my posh friend Lula liked her port…

 

Not so very… Sherry

Week 25 in The Year of Drinking Adventurously. Sherry.

Dry Sack, it sounds like a dental issue doesn’t it? The bottle came in a drawstring jute bag – a dry sack. And it was all downhill from there…

It’s been years since I tried sherry. My mother drank it occasionally and I’m sure I sneaked a sip. Because that’s how I was as a kid… Into everything. Mom tended to choose her food and beverages based on the type of book she was reading. A novel set in Victorian times meant tea, tarts, cucumber sandwiches and sherry. I am not kidding.

Nevertheless, since my sherry sampling is so far in my hazy past, I entered this week with no preconceived notions.

Remember how awful whiskey tasted the first time you tried it? Or beer? Drinking doesn’t come to most of us automatically.  We sample, our palates acclimate, our tastes broaden and so do our horizons. And so Monday evening, with a light supper planned for dining outside, I opened my bottle of medium (not dry not sweet) blended sherry.

I bought a Spanish sherry rather than a domestic product, hoping to have a more authentic experience. Although the blending of Amontillado and Oloroso sherries may have diminished my experience somewhat.  And there weren’t a whole lot of options at my local liquor store to choose from.  So it’s entirely possible that like my initial reaction to saki, my impression of sherry might be somewhat skewed…  Because I hated it! And I’m the girl that didn’t mind grappa! I took one sip, grimaced, tried again – yes, still bad. I’m afraid this bottle is going to languish in the refrigerator until I foist it on one of my unsuspecting friends.

Now, I’m really curious to hear Lula’s impression…. And hopefully she delved into the history, etc. because I am totally skipping it. I am not hopeful for next week either. It’s port – sherry’s Portuguese cousin.