As with punch and flip, eggnog began as a large-format drink that eventually also became available in single-serving form. This shift reflects the changing nature of drinking and bartending in the nineteenth century. Single-serving eggnog is very similar to a flip, with the addition of dairy. This recipe is written for our “classic” mix of spirits; see the fortified wine and Texian recipes for variations.

Making a batch of eggnog is more like a baking project than it is like making a cocktail. And, as with punch, time is an important ingredient in its successful construction; with a little time, the concoction melds into a silky-smooth drink akin to boozy melted ice cream. This "classic recipe" is a kind of summary of many a 'nog past, combining the original duo of brandy and rum with the more rustic rye whiskey, which form a balanced triumvirate that counters the sweetness of the egg-and-dairy mixture beautifully.

We've covered a few different fizzes (which emerge in the 1870s), but this one is the golden type (c. 1882), which means that there's no egg white in it, just egg yolk! We'll get into this more, but the "coffee" part comes from the Coffee Cocktail, a drink from our period of interest that contains no coffee but does contain brandy and port. Cacao and vanilla accent this drink perfectly.

This is a riff on the Harvard cocktail, which is basically a Manhattan with brandy in place of rye. But I didn't like the ratios with the port, so I turned it into a kind of Improved Cocktail (my favorite variation on the Old-Fashioned), with a base of Cognac plus small measures of cacao, ruby port, and Alpine amaro. A splash of Champagne makes it feel quite fancy and dries out the cocktail a bit.

The Ladies’ Delight is a brandy, rum, and coffee drink featured in William Schmidt’s The Flowing Bowl, published in 1892. The original spec is topped with ice cream and berries. I've wanted to recreate this drink for years now and this month's theme gave me the opportunity. In addition to Cognac and coffee (in the form of cold brew), it has crème de cacao, amaro, vanilla syrup, and a touch of salt. After a little experimentation, I love the way the styling on this drink turned out.

This delicious little number takes inspiration from several classics, including a variety of brandy sours and punches and, of course, the New-York Sour. A base of brandy, lemon, cacao, and vanilla gets topped off with a classic "claret snap" for a tannic note that fits really well with the dried fruit and chocolate in the drink.

Spirit-forward drinks were exceedingly popular in the eighteenth and early nineteenth century–from Bumbo to Slings, Toddies, Cock-tails, and Black Strap, they’re all just variations on sweetened, diluted spirits. The Cock-tail, of course, is the one with bitters in it. I love maple and walnut together and it works beautifully with the sherry base. Though this recipe features a complex “Improved Cocktail” structure (which dates to later in the 1800s), it could very well have existed during our period of interest!

This is an imagined punch that might have been from the early republic with favorite products of the period, all of which would have been available for purchase in olde New English taverns. Aged rum and brandy is just about a classic eighteenth-century punch base as you’ll find and the sherry gives it this wonderful nutty, oxidized flavor. There’s a noble history of using oranges in punch and I really like what it’s doing here! And I really love orange with maple, it’s such an autumnal combination for me; this combo is also featured in my most popular BA recipe ever, the Applejack Sour. And in fact, we’re doing this with apple brandy instead of rum at Gigantic this fall, and it’s delicious both ways!

Longtime Club members might remember this one from the beta test month I ran back in August of 2020, wherein this drink was called The Tall Man from Havana. It has since become a Gigantic classic, where it began traveling under the name Havana Moon (named for the Chuck Berry song). The inspiration was the “Sloppy Joe’s,” the bar’s eponymous drink that combined brandy, port, pineapple, grenadine, and Curaçao. A very good example of the pre-tiki tropical genre.

The Mary Pickford appears in the Sloppy Joe’s books–a mix of rum, grenadine, pineapple, and maraschino liqueur. I took that inspiration, subbed crème de cacao in for the maraschino, added lime for acid, and a small measure of Cognac for vanilla and dried fruit notes. Pickford was a movie star, director and producer; I named this after her little sister, Charlotte, who was also an actor.

As you know, my historically-driven palate favors the spirits that were popular in 19th-century juleps, i.e. rye, Cognac, and rum. For my own julep recipe, I wanted to combine these three in equal parts with a favorite amaro (Braulio or dell’erborista are particularly good here, but there are many that would work!). I also decided to make the garnish do a little aromatic work, hence the nutmeg and shaved coffee bean, which hit the nose along with the mint upon first sip. The sherry float also contributes a nice aroma if desired!

This recipe, based on one from the 1850s, gives a window into what pre-Civil War juleps looked like after ice had established itself as an essential part of the drink. The mixture of Cognac and rye and the slight presence of Jamaican rum illustrate the julep’s former life as a rum drink and the preference for a brandy base during this period while also foreshadowing the rise of rye juleps that would come after the Civil War (see Dabney Julep from our Pre-Civil War Black Tavern-keepers theme). NB: crushed ice is preferred over pebble here.

Also known as flap-dragon, this Elizabethan game involves trying to pick dried fruit and nuts out of a bowl of flaming brandy. Yes, it’s dangerous and, yes, it was played by children (as well as adults) from the sixteenth century through the Victorian period. It’s closely associated with the Christmas season and, in the United States, it also became a common amusement on All Hallows’ Eve.

Back in 2020, I developed a series of three drinks for my Lords of Misrule series, including this recipe, which was originally a single-serving punch. Its ingredients tell the story of the late Tudor (i.e. Elizabethan) period, when the English became the dastardly colonizers we now know them to be. In this large-format version, brandy (either Spanish or French) comes together with funky Batavia arrack (the original punch base!), oxidized sherry, Swedish Punsch (a punch within a punch), allspice dram, tea, and sugar for a punch with notes of dried fig, tropical fruit, nuts and spices, and a hint of smokiness.

A menu for Othello Pollard’s Boston restaurant from 1803 listed Solid Arguments (foods), Agitations (acidic things), Grievances (spicy things), Superfluities (sweets) and Punishments (alcohol). Under punishments one finds “ice-punch,” a version of the already very entrenched crowd-pleasing drink served on the new craze: ice. Below is our imagined vision of what may have been in that punch.

There are two schools on the history of the Hail-storm and my suspicion is that they have both been true and different points in history. One is that “Hail-storm” is just another term for a Mint Julep, and the other is that the drink was sweetened brandy served over ice. I opted to explore the latter here, making it a nice chilled capital-C Cocktail–a drink that otherwise remained room temp for much longer than contemporaries like the Cobbler, Fix, etc.

Like many of the Black culinarians we’re learning about this month, Thomas Downing was not considered a bartender, but a restaurateur who ran an oyster cellar and catering business. But we know he served drinks at his establishment and, as Cobblers were the order of the day, I opted to create one with Madeira and brandy which were en vogue in New York City during Downing’s heyday.

Paul Girault’s original Colombe cocktail, served at Café de La Paix, was a modified Champagne cocktail fortified with Cognac and cherry and orange liqueurs. I’ve adapted it to suit our supply list this month, keeping the Cognac and orange liqueur, using grenadine to hint at the conflation of grenadine and cherry syrup, and “improving” the mixture with absinthe and Angostura bitters. The snifter is a nod to the Cognac base.

A sour that was popular at the Ritz Bar in Paris in the 1920s, the Sidecar traveled across the Atlantic and became a favorite drink in the U.S. during Prohibition. I took the spec developed by Ned King (get it? roi!) at Gigantic, which uses honey syrup in addition to orange liqueur; I decided to embrace the traditional sugar rim garnish, giving it dimension by adding chamomile.

The French 75 is traditionally made with Cognac or gin, lemon, sugar, and Champagne. I favor the Cognac version–which lives on as a New Orleans classic. I thought it would be fun to make a version inspired by Normandy, using Calvados in place of Cognac and, mirroring the grapes-on-grapes dynamic of the original, to pair the French apple brandy with dry cider in place of Champagne.