Proposed By: Jonathan
Reviewed By: David
The proposal last week included a link to the Our State magazine article about this drink that I hope blog readers took the chance to read. It had caught my attention for a few different reasons: I’ve been intrigued with the term “toddy”; our weather had been cold, icy and miserable; and the story provided with the recipe struck a note of nostalgia with me.
The meaning of toddy is not at all what I thought it would be. A hot toddy is basically hot water, sugar, spices and a spirit that is most often whiskey. Based on that my assumption was that “toddy” was an English term related to tea. It is, however, derived from a drink produced by fermenting the sap of palm trees in Southeast Asia. The Hindi term tadi referred to the type of wine palm that was tapped for its sap or the drink that was fermented from that sap.
No matter where the term came from, it is so associated with a hot drink to the point that “hot” seems redundant. We have experienced a period of weather in Charlotte that has been awful by our standards (even if David and his fellow Chicagoans would call it “Spring”). It has been wet and cold with every four days spiked by some form of wintry precipitation including ice, sleet, snow and that odd mix referred to as sneet. The idea of a hot soothing drink seemed appropriate especially after I had failed to collect enough snow to make snow cream with my leftover ginger liqueur. Of course, by the time we tried the cocktail (loosely used with this drink) it was sunny with highs in the 70’s.
The final point of interest was the reference to the toddy as a traditional cure for winter ailments. Our father was a physician, but that never stopped him from proposing home remedies. One of those was his cure for a cold, cough, sore throat, or any variety of upper respiratory ailment. I do not recall an exact recipe but do remember that it involved bourbon, lemon, honey and even the odd piece of onion on occasion. That prescription could be served straight up or mixed with hot water depending on Dad’s determination of the severity of our condition. I suspect that what he really knew, as most doctors do, was that the sick welcome a cure and are open to its benefits even if there is no true curative value. It was either that or he figured the bourbon would make us quiet and sleepy.
This particular toddy calls for all the classic ingredients with the spice supplied by tea. What follows is my adaptation of the published recipe:
One cup of herbal tea
1-2 ounce of whiskey (I used a Carolina apple brandy instead)
Lemon juice to taste
1 ounce of honey, or more if that is your taste
A garnish of lemon slice studded with cloves, and a segment of cinnamon stick
It seemed easiest to brew cups of tea and set the rest of the ingredients out for each person to fix to their liking which in turn proved to match the description of the early toddies experienced by British travelers in India. And our Dad’s mix and match cures too.
Here’s David’s Review:
Despite our father’s home remedies, I’ve always believed drinking to cure a cold or flu is wishful thinking, and now when I think about a hot toddy I picture some grandma and grandpa taking snoots in some dim hope medical science will someday justify their vices. Before you cry “foul” on behalf of your elders, I know that’s unfair, but there are plenty of good reasons to have a hot toddy that don’t involve a cure.
With the right tea and/or the right apple juice, this warm cocktail could do much to relieve a winter night. For the tea, I chose Tazo Passion. The label promises, “Tart rose hips and citrusy lemongrass woo the voluptuous blooms of hibiscus flowers,” to produce “an infusion that’s bursting with life and tinged with the color of true love to make sure you never have to live a day without passion.”
Okay. I’m not sure I could attest to all that, but the concatenation of flavors did give this cocktail a decidedly botanical taste. With the honey, lemon juice, and (on the second iteration) apple juice, this “cure” wasn’t hard to enjoy. Hell, having something hot is enough to make a Chicagoan weep with joy this time of year.
My only complaint was that it wasn’t strong enough. One ounce of bourbon gives the hot toddy a tiny kick, hardly enough to knock out anything or anyone. I’d think that, to have any sort of chance against a nasty cold, this drink needs to promise a wallop worthy of Nyquil.
But I guess I’m putting myself in the category of grandma and grandpa in saying so. My advice is to enjoy the hot toddy for what it is, an invitation to hibernation, a sweet and endearing cocktail worth coming home to after braving a polar vortex or a winter storm so major it needs a name.
David’s Take: Pleasant… though likely no medical miracle.
Jonathan’s Take: Before you make this drink, go ahead and put your jammies on.
Next Week (Proposed By David):
Jonathan and I are returning to a sojourn from cocktails that we tried last year, namely beer. Tomorrow I will be sending Jonathan four local beers, and, the week following, he’ll send me something. I won’t say too much now about the choices I’ve made, but there’s a couple of odd selections coming Jonathan’s way that are supremely local… and a little strange. Just so it’s fun.