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.

This recipe is an offshoot of a cobbler I developed in 2022. I love this punch version that I adapted for a vernal equinox dance party at my dear friend Michael’s painting studio. It’s fresh and bright with herbal, vegetal, and tannic notes and plenty of botanicals, too, from the blanc vermouth and gin. And the color can’t be beat!

Pisco Punch was a popular drink during the gold rush, especially at the Bank Exchange Bar which, if it wasn’t the drink’s birthplace, became the site of its popularization. This drink, which applied the already centuries-old punch template to a brandy all the way from Peru. I took a few liberties with our recipe, but the spirit of the original shines through.

What ever happened to the fruit basket? There’s a very striking cover on the December 1947 edition of Gourmet that features a big fruit basket, ham, Champagne, and cigars in front of a Christmas tree. This punch is my attempt at an ode to the once-prized Christmas tradition, the noble fruit basket.

This drink is one of my “cocktails that might have been,” i.e. a drink that could have existed even if it doesn’t survive in the historical records. My Proto-Daiquiri seeks to summarize the rum-based punches and drinks that were consumed at sea, many of which used the Caribbean trifecta of rum, lime (or citrus more broadly), and sugar. Eventually, this combination of ingredients gave us the Daiquiri.

Many nineteenth-century recipes for Irish whiskey punch skip the lemon juice and get its citrus notes solely from an oleo saccharum made from the fruit’s peel. In our recipe, lime oils are bolstered by citric acid, and sloe gin contributes additional tartness. Crème de banane, green tea, and the classic garnish of nutmeg complete this semi-tropical take on a Celtic punch.

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.

Tavern culture was deeply tied with ports, in part because some of its most notable drinks were born at sea, but also because so much of taverns’ stock was imported. The combination of rum and brandy was a common one in eighteenth-century punches, and Madeira was a wildly popular imported wine. Our punch is flavored with a plethora of other valuable imports: spices, ginger, lime, and tea.

Planter’s Punch is a centuries-old Caribbean recipe and was the basis for Donn Beach’s earliest “Rum Rhapsodies.” St. John Frizell and his bar staff at Gage & Tollner serve this excellent rendition of the classic, which appeared on the G&T cocktail list in the 1940s, and likely before.

This punch royale is named for the beachside retreat in Brighton commissioned by George, the spoiled young Prince of Wales. Based on the prince’s preferred drink, Regent’s Punch, this one balances tropical rum with green tea and lemon, all topped off with Champagne.

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.

“Capitaine of Mischeefe” was another term for the Lord of Misrule, who presided over festivities from Christmas Day through Twelfth Night, and sometimes all the way through Candlemas (in early February). This is the second in my Lords of Misrule series: a punch that tells the story of the expansion of products due to colonization by European nations that occurred during the 17th and 18th centuries.

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.