Last week, in this space, I detailed the Washington cocktail, a vintage drink originally constructed in honor of the nation’s first and greatest president. But with President’s Day still ahead of us, what of the close runner-up? Doesn’t Abe deserve a cocktail of his own? If we are going to celebrate George Washington’s and Abraham Lincoln’s birthdays together, there should be a drink for each.
Alas, I have been unable to find a Lincoln cocktail in my library and archive. But I have found a pair of drinks that are worthy substitutes, a couple of fine refreshers once served at New York’s Lincoln Club. Built in the late 19th-century heyday of social/political/athletic clubs, the Lincoln Club is no more. But the clubhouse still stands on Putnam Avenue in Brooklyn, a fanciful brownstone pile in the Queen Anne style that enjoys historic preservation. It is now the lodge of the Mechanics Temple, the world headquarters of the Independent United Order of Mechanics of the Western Hemisphere.
In its original iteration, the club would host dinners at which politicians would orate and speechify. But the real action, as with most of the clubs of New York, was to be found at the gaming tables, where thousands of dollars would be won or lost in evenings of poker and baccarat and a progenitor of bridge called whist. It was customary to quaff bumpers of champagne while (or should I say whilst) playing whist. Plain Champagne wasn’t nearly extravagant enough for the Lincoln Club, which dressed up its fizz in an elaborate concoction called the Lincoln Club Cup.
The barman began with a large glass pitcher into which he put “a few lumps of ice.” These would have been chunks the size of baseballs, not puny ice cubes. The lumps would have been hacked off a heavy block of ice harvested in the winter from Wenham Lake, the most fashionable of Massachusetts’s sources of frozen water. Into the pitcher goes a tablespoon of fine sugar, or at least that’s what’s called for in the recipe that survives — the receipt found in George Kappeler’s 1895 book, Modern American Drinks: How to Mix and Serve all Kinds of Cups and Drinks. But I don’t think the sweetener is necessary, given the sweet ingredients to come. Or at least, I suggest one hold off on the sugar until the rest of the cup has been constructed, at which point one can add a little simple (sugar) syrup to the pitcher according to taste.
So, what do we have now? A pitcher with some ice in it. Add an ounce or two of cognac, an ounce or two of dry sherry (you might try the Lustau brand’s “Los Arcos” Amontillado), and 2 or 3 ounces of the French dessert wine Sauternes. Actually, while you’re at it, you might use 4 or 5 ounces of that noble wine, which is sweet enough that you’ll find you don’t need to add any sugar at all to the mix. Stir.
Then stuff the pitcher with fruity frippery: a lemon, sliced, half an orange, sliced, some slices of pineapple, and some strips of cucumber rind. Empty into the pitcher an icy cold bottle of champagne and a small (12 ounces) bottle of cold soda water. Stir gently. Serve in a medium-size glass decorated with slices of fruit and some mint.
If you wish to toast the martyred president without going to all the trouble (and expense) of compiling a Lincoln Club Cup, consider the far simpler highball that also bears the organization’s name: the Lincoln Club Cooler. Start with the right glass — the narrow and tall Collins glass. Drop into it a couple of smallish lumps of ice. Pour over the ice an ounce or two of St. Croix rum such as Cruzan. Fill the glass with a good ginger ale, such as Fever-Tree. That’s all there is to it.
Eric Felten is the James Beard Award-winning author of How’s Your Drink?
