A true Edwardian dream drink, this Champagne Cobbler has sloe gin, raspberry cordial and dry sparkling wine, garnished with little scoops of raspberry sorbet and vanilla ice cream and raspberries and/or currants! It’s named after the fancy hotel where Anne gives a reading of The Highwayman (published in 1906, and included in the 1985 CBC film, not the book!).

This is a drink to honor dear Matthew Cuthbert, the sweetest man in the history of Canadian literature! Though the Cuthberts don’t drink much (they’re not completely teetotal, Marilla makes currant wine), I picture this kind of drink being a special treat for Matthew after a long day. Anachronistically inspired by the Snakebite and Black and given a smoky note to reference Matthew’s fondness for smoking a pipe, I layered raspberry cordial, sloe gin, and peaty Scotch, then added cider and floated Guinness on top! Candied ginger and blackberries seem a charming garnish-treat for this one. 

I had to include a drink inspired by the scene where Anne breaks a slate over Gilbert Blythe’s head for calling her “Carrots” because of her red hair… I made a savory, smoky, carrot sour that will be a perfect late summer-into-fall transition drink. Peaty and blended Scotches are layered with Avonlea Fair syrup, carrot juice, lemon, and celery bitters, which is all shaken with egg white for texture. Flaky salt and freshly ground black pepper make for a perfect garnish.

In honor of a spelling bee wherein Anne wins by correctly spelling chrysanthemum, I basically made a delicious iced tea beverage. Chilled chrysanthemum tea, Avonlea Fair syrup (with parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme!), raspberry cordial, lime juice, and celery bitters make for an herbal, tart, cooling drink that makes you feel like you’re walking through a field of cut hay! And a measure of blended Scotch won’t go amiss here, if you want to fortify it!

Cordials fall into two categories: homemade or commercially produced liqueurs that we see during the period we’re looking at, or the English-style non-alcoholic fruit syrups that typically contain juice (such as Rose’s Lime Juice Cordial). I wanted to do something non-alcoholic for this month (and to roll into a very close-to-my-heart theme for August), so I am choosing to make a more English-style cordial with the unbeatable combination of raspberry and lemon.

Named for the main character in The Secret Garden, this iced beauty combines the aesthetics of the Fix and the Bramble in a charming presentation. The malty genever base provides a canvas for the classic English flavors of rhubarb, ginger, and blackberry.

Mary’s cousin Colin believes he will always be ill, but Mary and Dickon bring him and his household back to life! Though this drink is non-alcoholic, I took inspiration from the John & Tom Collins, a family of drinks that sometimes called for genever as a base. Sort of a very complex strawberry-rhubarb lemonade, a nod to lemonades as one of the most important teetotal categories in drinks history.

I was fascinated by this kind-but-rugged character when I was a kid–he knew how to do lots of things and had great clothes! In this Yorkshire-inspired theme, I thought Dickon would be a great inspiration for a shandy! Rhubarb, ginger and lime, fortified with a bit of genever flavor a good English ale beautifully!

As you know, punch is one of my favorite things to make and this one takes inspiration from a couple of nineteenth-century recipes that are lovely fruit medleys! I have always wanted to develop a recipe inspired by Punch à la Romaine for many years and, thus I have taken it as my main source recipe, especially the whipped meringue topping!

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.

I wanted to demonstrate a fancy application for our Club Pimm’s, and I immediately thought of doing a Pimm’s Cup Royale, i.e. topped with Champagne. I also wanted to integrate some of the traditional fruit and mint that are used in Pimm’s Cups and decided a Cobbler format would be the perfect vehicle. Served over crushed or pebble ice, our Pimm’s Royale is, naturally, garnished with abandon.

Here’s a fun serving suggestion for our homemade Club Pimm’s and our cucumber-lemon shrub: a do-it-yourself Pimm’s bar for your next gathering! I’m happy to say that this concept caters to drinkers and non-drinkers alike, so everyone will feel taken care of at your spring (or summer!) soirée.

I see our Club Pimm’s as a pre-batched cocktail, apéritif, and digestif all in one. It occurred to me that, served in the style of amaro caldo, it would make an excellent, warming beverage for a chilly evening or a rainy Sunday afternoon–both common in April where I live. Adjust the recipe below to suit the size of your serving vessel.

I’ve long dreamt of creating my own homemade Pimm’s. The original Pimm’s No.1 is great, but I wanted to come up with something with pronounced bitterness, more body and oomph. I’m really excited about what I came up with–it is both a complete standalone cocktail and an excellent ingredient in mixed drinks.

As you may have noticed, I favor aged spirits in most things and especially in punches. But a great gin punch is a welcome addition to any gathering, so I’ve done the math on my popular Barnstable Punch from last year’s Yuletide class. You can use just London dry gin, just Old Tom gin, or a mix of both as I’ve suggested here, just be aware that you may want to adjust to taste.

This punch was loosely inspired by one Charles Dickens described in a letter to a friend back in 1847. The original involves fire and has slightly different ingredients, but I like the vaguely tropical thing this version has going and like to imagine Ebenezer Scrooge drinking it to celebrate his newfound love of Christmas.

This drink translates a famous hot port-and-claret classic into a pared-down single serving that’s stirred and chilled. The Bishop appeared in Oxford Nightcaps in 1827, by which time it was already an institution; Scrooge also mentions it to Bob Cratchit in A Christmas Carol.

In the olden days of coastal New England, a pineapple on the fence post was a sign of hospitality. It meant the captain who lived there was back from his voyage, ready to regale the townsfolk with his stories. This punch is what I imagine he would have served, on a snowy December evening, with his community gathered around his hearth, pipe smoke in the air and cheer in their hearts.