GEORGE: Martha! Martha!

MARTHA: Yes, George?

G: Did Alexander leave while I was in the bathroom?

M: Yes, dear. Mr. Hamilton said he had to - write something down?

G: That boy. Someday I’m going to have to teach him how to say goodbye.

M: What dear?

G: Nothing, nothing. Martha, have you seen the rum?

M: In your quarters

G: The brandy?

M: In your quarters.

G: The Sherry?

M: In your quarters.

G: The whiskey?

M: In my quarters.

G: Huh?

M: Uh, nevermind. I’ll get it.

(Bottles clinking)

M: What’s all this for, George?

G: Well, do you know what time it is, Martha? (sexy voice)

M: Not tonight dear, I’m not in the mood.

G: No, no. Not that. Although, now that you mention it …

M: George!

G: Ahem. Martha, it’s the holiday season and time for George Washington’s world famous egg nog!

M: iiiiiiiiiiiiiis it though? World famous?

G: Well, new world famous… get it?

M: Oh, brother.

G: As we’ve crossed the precipice of greatness to form this new nation…

M: You don’t have to talk like that. It’s just us.

G: ... these colonies, indivisible…

M: oookay, we’re doing this.

G: … are under God! And what better way to celebrate this, the Holy Christmas season than to join our countrymen…

M: And women.

G: ... in the bond of …

M: Nog?

G: Yes, Martha. Nog, nog.

M: Who’s there?

G: A history lesson from the first president of the United States.

M: How meta.

G: Huh?

M: The future will get it.

G: You see, Martha …

M: I’m listening. (voice slowly fades away from mic) I’ll just be over here listening, yep that’s me, loooove to listen to this story … listen listen list-

G: You know, Martha, it may come as a surprise to some to learn I have a bit of a propensity towards the Jamaican rum.

M: (sarcastically) No surprise to anyone who’s seen our shipping receipts.

G: What’s that, dear?

M: Nothing, my love. You just keep telling your story while I handle this… (dishes clanging)

G: Ahem, of course. You see, the origins of our holiday tipple go all the way back to the middle ages. To a drink called Posset. Poor folks would heat the hard to come by milk mixed with cheap wine or ale as a medicine. Conversely, the upper class would mix up milk and wine with sugar and exotic spices, ooh la la, and consume the mixture as a dessert.

M: Hmm… Necessity of the poor, frivolity of the rich.

G: Indeed. The immortal bard himself made reference to both uses in his respective plays. Eggs came into play in the 17th and 18th centuries as the treat became associated with more of a custard. Furthermore the mix would be allowed to cool overnight. These additions created a drink what they called a syllabub. A creamier, frothier result was desired. In some cases the milk would be taken straight from the cow’s udder into the pot. This was to add maximum frothiness.

M: That’s kinda gross.

G: But as popularity waned in Europe the drink had found legs here in the colonies during the 18th century. It was here elementary versions of eggnog morphed from an indulgence for the wealthy to a common treat. This aided greatly by our Caribbean endeavors. You see, as many colonists could not easily come by the heavily taxed European wines and brandies they turned to the readily available and affordable rums.

M: And whiskey.

G: During this time the drink was served warm again, to keep the milk and eggs from spoiling. This began associating the beverage with wintertime. Some say it derived from the Flip, a tipple in which beaten cream, eggs, and sugar were added to strong beer and rum, then heated with the loggerhead. A loggerhead is a long rod with a ball at the end which when heated over a fire and dipped into the mixture causes flash heating. That these tools were often used as weapons in barroom disputes is where we get the term, “coming to loggerheads.” It was also here the nomenclature of our drink became more recognizable. As rummy booze was commonly referred to as grog the drink was known as egg’n’grogg. Here’s the kicker, this rendition was served in the wooden cup we know as a noggin. Hence the modern term “eggnog”! You know, Colonel Thayler and twenty students started a riot and were court martialed at West Point for getting drunk on eggnog.

M: And so it goes eggnog fell out of fashion in the 1800’s as a standard tipple, over time transforming into a convivial holiday libation when Christmas was seen more as a season for gathering and festivity. Revel and bacchanalia made overtures towards religious sanctity.

G: Martha, have you gotten into the whiskey again.

M: Hush. The temperance movement put the kibosh on imbibement. Teetotaling puritans claimed, (in a stuffy voice) "much of the drunkenness which too frequently disgraces Christmas Day is due to the free liquor and egg-nog of the barrooms, in which young and old can fill themselves full enough during the early hours of the morning to keep drunk all day."

G: (laughing) Yeah, right. Teetotalers.

M: George, please. Ahem, due to the love by certain presidents of this drink - its popularity “spiked”, pun intended, after World War II. Unfortunately, eggnog suffered the fate of many libations during the dreaded 20th century. Lurid premade mixes, even non-alcoholic versions were sold.

G: By God, Martha. Of what is this dystopian future you speak of?!

M: Not to worry, Georgey. The turn of the century will find a movement toward tradition and against the untoward abominations of our beloved huletime habits.

G: Grace be to our one nation under…

M: God, help us.

G: Every one. Huh? Oh. Back to the present day. Rum has played an integral role in the New World. For better or worse we can thank the Caribbean rum trade for financing the economic infrastructure for independence. Do you know every American consumes about 4 gallons of rum per year?

M: Another facet of freedom in which you overachieve.

G: Yes, yes. Well, you recall the story of my first foray into politics.

M: But, please. Regale me again. I’ll just have another nip of this whiskey.

G: The year was 1757. Oh, I was young and naive. I was running for the House of Burgesses. The other candidates all served rum refreshments while I thought I could run simply upon my merits! It was the only election I ever lost. Upon running the following year I served 28 gallons of rum, 50 gallons of rum punch, 46 gallons of beer, 34 gallons of wine, and 2 gallons of cider for good measure, partridges and pears trees seemed to be in short supply. Needless to say, I won. During the war I truly learned why. Merit will earn men’s respect, but rum earns their lives. Poor rum rations almost cost us the war. I even wrote to congress once, “When we take into consideration how precious the lives of our men are, how much their health depends upon a liberal use of Spirits, [W]e cannot hesitate to determine that the Public ought to incur a small expense ... and preserve the lives of a great number of men. ... I consider it therefore a duty to them as well as to my Country to request that the 50 Hogsheads of Rum ... may be procured and forwarded as soon as it is practicable.” The people’s contributions kept our men in good spirits. If it wasn’t for Britain cutting supply lines to their island colonies in the first place, but alas, now we can trade of our own volition. Which is good because between you and I and Medford, American rum leaves something to be desired of its Jamaican counterpart.

Even at Mount Vernon, where our whiskey and Brandies are not to be trifled with, our distillery cannot mimic the essence of that potent West Indies spirit.

Now, all this framework is making me thirsty. Let’s jot this recipe down for posterity...

“One quart cream, one quart milk, one dozen tablespoons sugar, one pint brandy, ½ pint rye whiskey, ½ pint Jamaica rum, ¼ pint sherry

—mix liquor first,

then separate yolks and whites of 12 eggs,

add sugar to beaten yolks,

mix well.

Add milk and cream, slowly beating.

Beat whites of eggs until stiff and fold slowly into mixture.

Let set in cool place for several days.

Taste frequently.”

For sugar we have raw cane from the tropics. The rye and brandy we make here, the sherry will be French, and the rum undoubtedly Jamaican.

M: That’s certainly enough booze to kill any bacteria if we were worried about raw eggs.

G: Indeed. Hard to believe this was once a summer drink when Acrelius is quoted calling it, “good for dysentery and loose bowels.”

M: We don’t need any loose bowels around here. Not with how full of shit you all are. “Created equal” my ass. Maybe if we were allowed in taverns there’d be some founding mothers signatures on that declaration.

G: Don’t look at me, Thomas wrote it.

M: Men. (sarcastically)

G: Oh, look at that. The nog is ready. After a day or two of cooling be sure to shake up well before pouring. This will froth up the libation. Those who prefer a thicker sweeter treat can use heavy whipping cream and increase the sugar by a ¼ cup, but my original is meant to be a thinner, frothier, very boozy concoction. It should be sipped from your favorite holiday mug and topped with a bit of ground nutmeg.

M: The booze is quite prevalent, but the eggy creaminess is very lovely.

G: There is one truth that I hold self-evident, that we will be getting quite drunk this evening. So, why don’t we blow those candles out and take the rest of this nog to our quarters.

M: Oh, George. (blushingly)

George & Martha: Merry Christmas!

Sources: And a bottle of rum - by Wayne Curtis, Alcohol Professor article by Brian Petro, and a liquor.com article by Ben Schaffer