Spiked Pear Cider

img_1799Proposed By: David

Reviewed By: Jonathan

Thanks to this cocktail blog, our history with good and bad holiday drinks is well-chronicled. I won’t return to Tom and Jerrys—ever—and the French 75—though it remains my favorite champagne drink. The time has come to move on, say goodbye to 2016, thankfully, and try something new.

As I mentioned last time, a Google search for “Unconventional Holiday Cocktails” turns up choices like Peppermint Martini, Spiced Coconut Hot White Chocolate, and other drinks rejected for being too sweet, too thick, too complicated, too unnatural, and/or too Seussian. Mostly they were too frou-frou. Though I’m not Fezziwig or the most uproarious holiday party guest, I’m no Scrooge. I try to keep my bah-humbugs to a minimum and keep the season well, but, sometimes, when I look at a Yummly page quilted with coupes of technicolor libations on elaborate tablescapes created for this time of year, I cry a little inside. Does it have to be such a big deal, really?

Plus, while I’m showing off my decision tree, let me confess that I try to consider friendly fire in choosing cocktails—the people around my brother and me, mostly our wives, who will have to share these drinks with us. During this season or any other, I’ve learned to reject the purely alcoholic combinations and know that the most welcome ingredients may be juice and some prominent liqueur we already have. That’s why I thought of Spiked Pear Cider. Its central ingredient is juice, not alcohol—it’s not at all boozy—and it’s both warm and a little fizzy.

  •  4 c. sparkling pear or apple cider
  • 3 c. pear juice
  • ½ vanilla bean
  • 5 whole cloves
  • ½ c. brandy
  • 3 tbsp. orange liqueur (such as Grand Marnier)
  • 1 Seckel pear

The preparation may seem a little complicated, but it isn’t. Just bring 3 cups of the sparkling cider, the spices, vanilla bean (I used a few drops of extract), and the 3 cups of pear juice (I recommend Jumex in a can. Bring that to a boil, turn down the heat, and simmer it for 7 minutes. Stir in the brandy and orange liqueur after that. The recipe says to strain the liquid into a pitcher, but we skipped that part. We also halved the recipe. Top it with more sparkling pear cider and garnish.

Though we’re currently suffering a polar vortex here in Chicago, this winter has otherwise been warm, and I don’t think the hot part of this cocktail is all that essential. In fact, I could see returning to this recipe in June, maybe with a little iced tea added. My inner Thoreau wants to urge simplicity, simplicity, simplicity and doing what seems easiest and most comfortable during this harried time. Just enjoy yourself and each other, no extra assembly required.

Here’s Jonathan’s Review:

daisyOh those hazy, crazy, lazy days of late Autumn. First, we had the drink as a punch on Thanksgiving Day and now it will soon be Christmas and I am just writing the review. Hazy memory. I wish I could blame that on important things going on but it is really just a jumble of work, events, then some utility construction that has destroyed swaths of our yard and sent me to customer service purgatory on numerous occasions. The next time I call Time Warner will be the official edge of crazy. Finally, the picture that is included is my best illustration of lazy. As in, hey-dummy-you-forgot-to-take-a-picture-of-the-drink lazy.

This is the type of proposal that I love. David came up with a cocktail that could be made in advance (mostly), added a wonderful fragrance to the kitchen and served a group. It was the perfect accompaniment to Thanksgiving so that is how it was served.

There were a few small changes that I made to the recipe. The most important was that I served it cold. That allowed us to make the base, with another slight change by using bourbon soaked vanilla bean pods, in advance and then top with chilled sparkling cider with each serving. The final change was that I used an apple/pear brandy that I had left from a Calvados drink we made earlier.

This punch is a mix of subtleties. The base has a background taste that just hints at the vanilla and cloves. In the same way, the pear and apple meld with neither being dominant. And unlike the many cocktails we have enjoyed with bubbly, the effervescence of the sparkling cider is muted by adding most of it during the mulling process. It could be my predilection for champagne drinks but I think it would be worth trying this with all the sparkling cider added to the base and then substituting sparkling wine for the topper. Especially if you drink this cold.

Jonathan’s Take: This is a Fall drink – subtle, quiet and simple like a day of drifting leaves.

David’s Take: If we do ever have a holiday party, I’ll serve this.

Next Time (Proposed by Jonathan):

We’ve gone so long between entries that another holiday is upon us. It is that time when we enjoy more confections, and food in general, than we do throughout the rest of the year. It is also the time for odd foods such as fruitcake which is rendered edible only through a thorough soaking in booze. We’re going to take a slight break from cocktails and try some foods that are enhanced or dominated by spirits. That can include candies, sides and main dishes as long as there is a liquor component.

Hot Cider Nog

ACNogJMProposed By: Jonathan

Reviewed By: David

One could posit that the proposed drink is more a posset than an eggnog. That assumes, of course, that one knows the difference between a posset and a nog or even what a posset is.

The history of eggnog can be traced back to England and a hot drink that sometimes doubled as a dessert. Possets date back to at least the 15th century based on their appearance in historic documents. Samuel Pepys wrote of eating a sack posset in his diary and was referring to a warm milk drink that was curdled with sack (like a sherry), sweetened and spiced. The classic version included milk or cream, sugar, spices, an ale or wine for curdling, and some kind of thickening agent. Special pots, much like a fat separator for gravy only much fancier, were used to pour out the lighter liquid to drink while leaving the thicker part to eat like a custard (a syllabub if you want to be technical). Later versions added eggs although both eggs and dairy were available mostly to the upper class.

Shakespeare referenced possets in a number of plays. David is the Shakespeare scholar in our family so I am sure he immediately thought of Lady Macbeth in reading that word. She used a drugged posset to render Duncan’s guards immobile so that Macbeth could steal in and assassinate the king. It appears she even enjoyed a spirited version of the drink to fortify herself:

That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold
What hath quenched them hath given me fire

This beverage tradition of possets traveled to the colonies. Milk, cream and eggs were of much wider availability which could have led to greater popularity. The sack or sherry was replaced with the more common spirit, rum, in the colonial version. Speculation on the name relates to both the addition of rum and the type of cup in which the drink was traditionally served. Rum, or grog in common parlance, led to a drink called egg and grog. It was served in a small rounded wooden cup called a noggin (yes that is where the slang reference to the head probably started) and became egg and grog in a noggin. Finally, nog is slang for ale, which was of course one of the original ingredients in the posset.

Whatever the origin, what we call eggnog makes its regular appearance as the holidays approach and the weather, in theory, turns colder. The version that I proposed came from Southern Living and included an unusual addition unless you consider the evolution of the drink. This Hot Cider Nog adds apple cider which harkens back to the cider, ale or wine used in a posset:

2 cups half and half
1 cup milk
1 cup apple cider
2 large eggs
½ cup cider
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon salt
Whipped cream and cinnamon sticks for garnish

Mix the first 8 ingredients in a large saucepan and gradually warm while stirring occasionally. The recipe recommends cooking until the thickened liquid coats the back of a spoon. I whisked the liquid almost constantly until it reached a temperature of 160 degrees to ensure those pesky eggs were safe but the milk and cream not overly scalded. The bourbon goes in last and I did bump the amount up to ¾’s cup.

There are recipes that suggest the final product should be cooled and even aged in the refrigerator for periods up to or even beyond six months. Our eggnog did get cooled but it had little time to age in a house full of family and guests. The odd addition, cider, was really not distinctive in the drink and fortunately did not curdle the milk. It did make for a lighter eggnog that was much better than the usual store-bought versions.

Here’s David’s Review:

NogDMIt occurred to me (ever so briefly) that I might save myself all sorts of time and trouble by just buying eggnog at the grocery. Making eggnog yourself is a delicate process—too hot and you have bits of scrambled egg in your drink and too cool and you might as well be Rocky before a morning run. Plus, the commercial stuff is readily available, and as a child, I loved it. I always looked forward to the holiday season when that carton hung around in the back of the refrigerator. I wouldn’t think of adulterating it with alcohol.

But now I know how caloric commercial eggnog is. Its preternatural viscosity probably derives from the sap of a South American tree, and the only eggs that go near it must start as powder. I’m a grown-up now. Making my own eggnog can’t be that daunting.

Well, okay, it was. Jonathan suggested a thermometer to assure the mixture didn’t reach 180°, and I’m glad he did. It seemed to keep the curdling down to a minimum and the cocktail from being too viscous. The apple cider also made the nog a little thinner than usual, which fooled me into thinking it might not be thickening as it should be. I worried more than I should (not surprising news for anyone in my family) but the whole concoction came together suddenly… accompanied by a sigh of relief.

And the result was well worth it because the cider undercut the usual sweetness of eggnog with a pleasant acidity. The whip cream added too, as it melted almost immediately and made the drink creamier and richer. While the holidays offer no shortage of celebratory libations, this one seemed a particularly suitable nightcap.

Jonathan is more of a historian than I am—as he mentioned, I’ve taught Shakespeare for years, yet have always wondered what the heck a “posset” is—but I’m the sentimentalist. Tradition impresses me most. Eggnog hardly seems a 21st century drink, and I have a hard time believing millennials, with all their post-modern fixations, will keep it going. However, that groceries still stock eggnog, that Starbucks still makes it a prominent ingredient, that people still drink it (at least in all of those cheesy holiday movies), all that suggests some elements of the past are hard to erase. In this case, I’m glad.

Jonathan’s take: Homemade eggnogs really are better.

David’s take: My favorite version of eggnog yet… eradicates my Tom and Jerry nightmares, almost.

Next Time (Proposed By David):

My collection of cocktail books isn’t as extensive as my brother’s, but I have a few. I thought I’d pick one from a gift I received last Christmas called Shake: A New Perspective on Cocktails. The authors, Eric Prum and Josh William, are from Brooklyn, where my son lives (in Bushwick), and I’ve been particularly intrigued by one of their winter cocktails called The Bushwick Spice Trade. It uses Gin, sugar cubes, lemon juice, and—for spice—basil, pink peppercorns, and fresh ginger. The authors say, “We like to pair this intriguing cocktail with spicy Asian take-out when frigid temperatures call for a night in.” After so much celebration, that sounds good to me.

Cherry Pisco Hot Chocolate

IMG_0528Proposed by: David

Reviewed by: Jonathan

Like any family, ours gathers familiar and funny memories and, while we don’t recall them exactly the same way, the disputes hardly matter. Each represents the joy we found in growing up together.

One of my favorite stories involves my father’s scheme for creating a Christmas more glorious than grand. He would drive all five children to a local five-and-dime store and then give each child six dollars with which to buy six presents. The store was small—it only had one toy aisle—and our shopping spree required stealth, speed, misdirection, and guile.

My strategy was to buy the same things for each person each year. One of my sisters would receive bath beads with dissolving skins, and, once the Christmas spirit passed, these became projectiles. My older brother received another plastic lizard… though he was already too old to play with them.

Jonathan was toughest, but I had faith anything related to sports would make him happy. Only… this store had nothing more sporty than super-balls… and what can you buy for a dollar? One year, I discovered a baseball with a stick in it—it was purely decorative, filled with cork, intended to be stuck into a flower arrangement—but I cut the stick off and claimed it was an regulation baseball. The first time Jonathan walloped it, the ball hooked a few feet into the infield and came to rest a new shape, flattened like a moon of Mars. “Wow,” I said, “you can really hit!”

The six-dollar experience hasn’t worn off altogether. Some few Christmases later, I learned Jonathan loved chocolate covered cherries and, on more than one holiday, bought him a box. This week’s cocktail is an adaptation designed to mimic those cherries… while also using some ingredients gathering on my liquor shelf. I worried Jonathan might be tired of chocolate cherries, but he assured me he wasn’t. I hope he wasn’t being nice, as he was after the destruction of the one-hit-wonder baseball.

The cherry flavor in this cocktail comes from Cherry Heering, and the original recipe suggests you can use rum as the primary spirit. Rum’s cane sugar profile makes sense with chocolate, I think. But, as the name of this cocktail suggests, it calls for Pisco, a Chilean (or Peruvian) brandy, which is not something I ever imagined being pared with chocolate. I’m sure I never had a Pisco-flavored chocolate covered cherry, which is at least some deviation from the usual.

Here’s the recipe… adapted:

1/4 cup cocoa powder

1 tablespoon granulated sugar

pinch kosher salt

3 cups whole milk

4 ounces milk chocolate chips

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate chips

3 ounces Cherry Heering

4 ounces pisco or rum

4 (2-inch) segments orange zest

Whipped cream and candied orange peel garnish
In medium saucepan, stir cocoa with sugar and salt. Stir in milk, milk chocolate, and bittersweet chocolate. Heat over medium heat until, stirring constantly, until chocolate is melted and mixture is hot. Gently whisk to completely homogenize mixture.

Add Cherry Heering and Pisco or rum. Divide into four serving cups. Rub rim of each cup with orange zest. Top with whipped cream, candied orange peel, and orange zest. Serve immediately.

Here’s Jonathan’s Review:

JBMMy sister-in-law’s memory is excellent. I did, and do, enjoy chocolate covered cherries. Those can range from the cheapest—I hope everyone knows that is defined by how many have broken and are stuck to the inner plastic—to the exotic. I am proud to say the higher end versions are where I lean, but not so proud to admit that I will eat any type. I am also not beyond the rationalization that the fruit, and dark chocolate in some cases, offers some measure of health food status to the confection. Do not attempt to dissuade on that either because it would ruin the whole fruit pie for breakfast deception too.

There is no way to review this cocktail without stating that it is chocolate. Cocoa powder, milk chocolate chips and bittersweet chocolate chips ensure that. The recipe calls for 4 ounces of each type of chip and whether that is volume or weight (my assumption), it exceeded the ability of the milk to completely dissolve. One of the tasters, we’ll call him Josh, described it as liquid candy bar and that is most apt. We tried more whipped cream to cut it, but it remained only slightly below chocolate fountain consistency.

The best part of the drink was the Cherry Heering, not surprisingly given my bias. I’m not sure where the Pisco went but am glad that it was there to help keep all of that chocolate from reconstituting as a solid. Since we decided to alter the recipe and use Heering instead of Cointreau, I skipped the orange zest and candied orange garnish but it would have been a nice touch. I wonder if they make chocolate covered cherries with candied orange? Might need to go look for that.

Jonathan’s take: I have to try this one again with much less chocolate for research purposes.

David’s take: I like chocolate, but I’d like less chocolate here.

Next week (proposed by Jonathan):

By now you should have made your list, checked it twice, and be completely confident you have determined the naughty/nice categories. There should be wrapped presents for all close family, trifles or better for the neighbors and a stock of end of year goodies to consume before the resolutions kick in. Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree, decked halls, and rum soaked fruit cake should complete the list. So what is left? Wassailing of course. Next week, we’ll be preparing a wassail with whatever recipe the maker chooses. The only requirement is that it contain enough spirit to stir the imbiber to share a few Christmas carols with friends and family.

The French 75

French75Proposed by: Jonathan

Reviewed by: David

The first order of business is this week’s drink, the French 75. Like many of the cocktails we have tried there is some dispute as to its origin. The best information points to Paris and a drink named after an artillery weapon because of its hard hitting conclusion and that is the one I like the best. Clearly dating to at least the early part of the 20th century, the French 75 is named after a 75mm howitzer and is a mix of spirit, sweet, citrus, and sparkling wine. There is some disagreement, or at least a difference in taste, about whether it should be made with gin or cognac. Here is the recipe that I decided to use:

1.5 ounce Cognac

.5 ounce simple syrup

.5 ounce fresh lemon juice

Sparkling wine (I used Cava this time)

The idea of proposing a sparkling wine based drink is that we are in that holiday period of drinks that are part of gatherings and celebrations. This drink fills that role wonderfully. Not as basic as a simple pour of bubbly, the French 75 adds a complexity through the cognac and along with that a kick. It may be a factor of suggestion, but the drinks with effervescence always seem to cry out for sipping lest they hit with the quick power of the aforementioned artillery piece.

A secondary purpose of suggesting this drink was to introduce the concept of toasts. The subject would take far more than a simple blog post to explore, but as with the drink, tis the season for such things and there are some basics worth exploring.

Toasts are definitely cultural, and any discussion should include the customs and etiquette that accompany them. Certain countries, think Ireland, are famous for toasts of all types while others, Russia in this case, are cited for a toast before each drink. It can be considered bad taste to toast with water, to not drink after toasting, or to miss out on touching glasses with each person toasting. One of my favorite tidbits is that toasting may have started with mistrust and the partial sharing of drinks to be sure that none of the drinks were poisoned. In fact, it is said that the touching of glasses, the clinking that has become spoken in many cultures, is a sign of trust the drink need not be shared to ensure the absence of poison. The best part of almost every cultural tradition of toasting is the recognition that the sharing of drinks is the sharing of company. That is something I always consider, even if David and I share virtually, as I try each week’s drink.

Almost everyone has a favorite toast even if they do not know the origin. I have always liked the simple “a votre sante” which is most basically translated as “to your health”. Similarly many offer “salud” or “health” to say the same thing, which is the common wish that your fellow drinker experience good health or good fortune. Na Zdrovie is another well-known example of wishing “to your health” although most associate it with incorrectly with Russian toasts (it does not actually translate that way) instead of the Polish Na zdrowie where it actually is a wish for health.

My favorite toast has always been “here’s mud in your eye” although, and probably because, I have no idea what that really means. There are biblical explanations (Jesus rubbing clay in the blind man’s eyes to restore his health/sight), historic (soldiers in muddy trenches), and agricultural (used by farmers for no good darn reason that I have heard). The best explanation, or at least the one I like the best, is that it originates from horse racing. The idea is that the lead horse has clear racing and those that follow have the mud of the race course flying in their eyes as they trail. An alternate, but similar, explanation is that it was a way of saying “so long” before downing the drink and taking off on horse with mud flying back at the other drinkers. No matter what the explanation – here’s mud in your eye!

french 752Here’s David’s Review:

Though I’d never describe myself as a “foodie,” I’ve eaten in enough fancy restaurants to know that simplicity and sophistication often arrive together. A good chef makes salad, asparagus, mashed potatoes and seared scallops so delicious, you may feel as if you’ve never really consumed them before.

I feel that way about the French 75, which, with just four ingredients, offers a bright, refreshing, and novel cocktail. Though the lemon juice makes this drink somewhat reminiscent of a gimlet or even a daiquiri, the cognac gives it more warmth and depth, and the sparkling wine (we used prosecco) gives it a light, celebratory lift.

It seems the perfect accompaniment to hor d’oeuvres and conversation, sweeter than white wine and yet tart enough not to be cloying. After last week’s dense, eggy, homestyle cocktail, this one seemed especially buoyant, more nectar than batter. Using no spices or bitters, the French 75 is direct and natural, the perfect answer to all the heavy food and buttery, cinnamon-y, nutmeg-y, clove-y flavors proliferating this time of year.

Online, like Jonathan, I found recipes that called for gin rather than cognac, but, to me, gin would only scuttle the drink. Introducing botanical and bitter elements would certainly make its flavor profile more complex, but simplicity seems the soul of this cocktail’s appeal.

As Jonathan says, this drink gets its name from a French field gun because it’s supposed to possess a similar kick, but I’m not sure it has much in common with artillery. Quite the contrary, the drink went down very easily. We had it Christmas afternoon just before the meal and regretted that we only had enough lemons for each of us to have one, as the French 75 seems something you could drink a lot of.

While my experience with champagne tells me having many might be a bad idea, you may find your judgment slipping if you like this drink as much as I did.

On the matter of toasts, I received a book devoted to the topic in my stocking, a suitable accompaniment to this week’s drink. Among the information offered is a list of toasts by nationality. My favorites, strictly by pronunciation (because I have no idea of meaning) are: Gan Bei (Gan BAY: Chinese), Hulu pau (Hoo-lee pow: Hawaiian), Heko (hee-ko: Swahilii), and Vô (Voh: Vietnamese). Please don’t ask me any more—they just sound cool.

Jonathan’s Take: The classics, and French 75 is certainly one, never seem to disappoint. Consider adding it to your New Years traditions.

David’s Take: Here’s one I’ll remember and repeat for celebrations ahead.

Next Week (proposed by David):

My proposals haven’t always been so successful, so I’ve decided to embrace being the bold and quirky cocktailian brother. I’m sending Jonathan to the liquor store for Aquavit (a Scandinavian caraway flavored spirit) to create a drink named after Rosalind Russell, the actress most famous for His Girl Friday and the movie version of Auntie Mame. She also married a Danish-American, which may be where she developed a taste for Aquavit, a rather odd ingredient. I hope everyone is up for a challenge—who knows what to expect, besides fun, fun.

The Tom and Jerry

photo-55Proposed by: David

Reviewed by: Jonathan

Batter. It’s a big word in Tom and Jerry recipes, used unapologetically and/or innocently. Like someone saying “Shut up,” when my parents trained me to avoid the expression, I don’t hear batter so innocently. Who drinks batter?

Still, every person I’ve met from Wisconsin talks enthusiastically about holiday parties accompanied by giant bowls of Tom and Jerry and all the hijinks that ensued. So I had to try. Besides, Eggnog is cliché and Tom and Jerry exotic… in a Midwestern way… if that’s not a contradiction in terms.

The history of the Tom and Jerry also intrigued me. You may think it comes from the cartoon, but no. And it isn’t from “Professor” Jerry Thomas, who wrote a famous bar guide, How to Mix Drinks in 1862. Its history goes all the way back to 1821 when it appeared in Life in London, or The Day and Night Scenes of Jerry Hawthorn Esq. and his Elegant Friend Corinthian Tom. Quite a title.

How Jerry Esquire and Corinthian Tom traveled from London to the American Midwest is mysterious, but the Tom and Jerry is so popular here that you can find Tom and Jerry punch sets in secondhand stores and, in Wisconsin at least, purchase the mix in bottles. I’ve read that you have to have truly frigid conditions to enjoy a Tom and Jerry properly, that it’s a warmer-upper and a lips-loosener for stiff Midwesterners. The stories I’ve heard about Tom and Jerry parties confirm that. One involved a shattered toilet.

I only shared the drink with my family, and I have to report that we were no more raucous than usual, though, if you look closely at the photograph of the drink above, you’ll see my daughter was prematurely ebullient.

Though I worried about this batter stuff, I recognized that creating it was key to the drink and that, without it, you’d have no Tom or Jerry:

The Recipe (for Four):

3 eggs, separated into whites and yolks

3 tablespoons powdered sugar

½ teaspoon cinnamon

½ teaspoon allspice

½ teaspoon ground cloves

4 oz. Brandy or Cognac

4 oz. Dark Rum

Nutmeg to garnish

Whip the egg whites until just barely (and maybe not quite) stiff. Mix the yolks, the sugar, and the spices in a separate bowl and then fold them into the egg whites with a spatula. This mixture is the Tom and Jerry “batter.”

In each cup or mug, add 2 tablespoons of batter, the alcohol, and then fill the rest with hot milk. My wife mentioned that the steamed milk from an espresso machine might be ideal here, but alas, we don’t own such fancy stuff.

The drink should be served with a dusting of nutmeg and hoisted to celebrate the season.

Here’s Jonathan’s Review:

jtop2The initial thought that comes to mind when reading “Tom and Jerry” is of a house cat and the rodent who outsmarts him. This cocktail, as has been explained, has nothing to do with that. That said, however, I know a lot more about that eternal chase and frustration than this drink. I had never even heard of it nor had I ever tried to mix a cocktail that required the basic makings of eggnog.

There is something about concocting a cocktail that makes it both fun and rewarding, and this one requires quite a bit of concocting. I actually had an assistant in my youngest son who helped with ingredients, preparation and some slight criticism of my not quite hard peak whipped egg whites (who knew the skills that are required for serious bartending). The challenge to this cocktail was in that making of an eggnog. Whipped egg whites mixed with blended yolks and spices and finally topped with hot milk. And don’t forget the brandy and rum before it’s all done.

The end result was good but lacked something to make it memorable. It probably didn’t help that Charlotte is having record warm weather instead of the hard cold of Wisconsin and Minnesota where the drink is popular. This is a drink that yelled out to be the warmer that drives out bone chilling cold not the follow up to sweating over whipped eggs in front of an open kitchen window in December.

Jonathan’s take: Loved the pictures that accompanied the recipes, but this one just left me ready for a long winter’s nap.

David’s Take: When I was younger and a less metabolically challenged person, I relished the quarts of eggnog that appeared in our refrigerator and enjoyed them even without alcohol, but something must have changed. These thick Christmas drinks seem a lot.

Next week (proposed by Jonathan):

You would think that almost six months in, I would be running out of ideas but it seems the opposite. New Year’s Eve will follow soon after next weekend’s drink so the proposal will be celebration appropriate. In addition, it’s a great time to talk about toasts. I hope someone besides me and David read this and that folks will use it as an excuse to offer their favorite toast as a comment.