I have begun to notice signs that suggest an election approaches.
Among them: an avalanche of text messages pleading in desperate tones for money; television commercials featuring ominous, horror-show soundtracks; ballots arriving in the mail.
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That calls for a drink. But what is the right concoction to go with the silly season? Happily, I have just the right silly drink in mind, suitable for election night parties, however one’s candidates fare, a drink that takes a little effort to assemble, which is just what one needs to kill time between the naming of the winners and the losers.
One of the first references to the word “cocktail” in America came in the context of an 1806 election held in Claverack, New York. It was back during the presidency of Thomas Jefferson, whose election wranglers did their best to win over reluctant Federalist voters by plying them with copious quaffs. Such was the custom of the times.
A local Federalist newspaper, the Balance and Columbian Repository, took note of the bibulous balloting and took satisfaction that it failed to win the day. To illustrate just how momentous a rebuke the Democrat had been handed, the Balance catalogued the many drinks served — the many drinks that had produced for the Jefferson crowd exactly nothing.
It is here where the “cock-tail” turns up — the newspaper reported that among the various drinks on offer, 25 glasses of cocktail were served. This was new, and it has properly been seen as an inflection point in the history of hard drink in America.
That said, at Claverack, these new-fangled cocktail thingummies were not exactly the most popular of choices on the drinks menu. Some two-dozen cocktails were served, but that is hardly the amount of liquor a self-respecting crowd of post-revolutionary voters would put away. Which explains the 32 gin slings. And the 411 glasses of bitters. And the people’s favorite, far and away — rum-grogs. The Claverack candidate treated voters to 720 of those.
Rum grog was not only popular. It was easy to make — just add water to rum, and there you have it.
But I suspect such a mixture might come across as a bit flat for modern election-watchers.
Happily, the simple rum-and-water sort of grog was taken up by the great drinks inventors of the tiki era. Trader Vic, for example, created a fanciful “Navy grog” made of dark and light rums, with fresh lime juice, a sprig of mint, a rock-candy swizzle stick, and a secret mystery ingredient, “Navy Grog Mix.”
An equally elaborate grog was introduced at the Aku-Aku bar at the Stardust hotel in Las Vegas — Captain Cook’s Grog. I suggest that in a sort of Claverack-goes-Vegas spirit of voting, we adopt the Aku-Aku grog as our election-night drink.
Here’s how:
Start with an ounce of fresh lime juice, an ounce of grapefruit juice, and an ounce of honey syrup. (To make honey syrup, put an equal amount of honey and water in a saucepan. Over a low heat, stir until the honey has combined thoroughly with the water.)
Add next an ounce each of Lemon Hart rum, dark Jamaican rum, and gold Puerto Rican rum.
Add two dashes of Angostura bitters. Shake the whole concoction with ice and then strain it into a tall glass filled with crushed ice. Top it with a little club soda and garnish with the spent shell of half a lime.
Be sure to enjoy the drink while you can. So much alcohol was consumed at Claverack in 1806 that the Balance newspaper anticipated the cost of rum would be driven up. Alas, inflation being what it is these days, the price of rum is sure to go up whether we drink a lot of it or not.
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Eric Felten is the James Beard Award-winning author of How’s Your Drink?
