21 Drink salute

Happy Flag Day! Long before the Stars and Stripes became the official symbol of America, folks like Benjamin Franklin and Christopher Gadsden used a snake to symbolize our unified resolve to strike out at any powers that threatened us. So, in this 250th year of American independence, we kick off the summer's 21 Drink Salute to America with a Snakebite cocktail: creamy ale sitting innocuously atop a tangy bite of hard cider. For the next 21 days -- between Flag Day and Independence Day -- we'll drink 21 different cocktails to celebrate our nation's semiquincentennial. Here's a mildly venomous toast I wrote that you might use today when you drink your Snakebite: "Raise the flag, raise your glass; and tyrant-kings can kiss our ass." Cheers!

If you're going to plot rebellion, you're gonna work up a powerful thirst. America's Founders may or may not have been angling for independence when they first met in clubs (like Philadelphia's Schuykill Fishing Company) to bitch about taxes and such. But they very likely drank from large bowls of this historical, colonial-era cocktail. It's gold rum, peach brandy, sugar, lemons, and water (or, before it was odiously taxed, tea). I'm not plotting anything other than lunch, so I just mixed up one glass and quaffed it in honor of the colonial conspirators who would take grumbling about the government to a whole new level. Consider your own grievances as you drink a toast with words like these: "To Parliament, that scurvy bunch, who tax the stuff inside our punch; we drink to them in our inebriation, but we spit on their taxes without representation." Cheers!

Most people say you can't drink beer with a straw, or pour beer over ice, or mix beer into a fancy, delicious cocktail. But ya know what? A majority of idiots is still just a bunch of idiots. To quote Samuel Adams -- the Boston patriot whose fiery rhetoric and organizational drive earned him acclaim as the Father of the American Revolution: "It does not take a majority to prevail... but rather an irate, tireless minority, keen on setting brushfires of freedom in the minds of men." Today's cocktail in our 21 Drink Salute to America features the Boston beer that's named for him. Shake up an ounce of Aperol liqueur and an ounce of orange juice, then pour it over a glass of your favorite Sam Adams beer on ice. The citrusy/wheaty Sam Adams Summer Ale blended perfectly with the tangy orange and bittersweet, herbal Aperol. The basic Boston lager would probably be pretty good, too. Don't forget the orange garnish, and don't apologize for drinking it with a straw. Set those brushfires of freedom. If you're serving these to your fellow patio patriots tonight, impress them with this toast: "Please join me in drink, good sirs and fine madams, to the memory of patriot Samuel Adams; he roused up the rabble by bold elocution, and kindled the fires of hot revolution. To him and to all who rise up for what's right, we raise up our glasses and toast them tonight." Cheers!

You belly up to the bar. Seated next to you is a guy who's obviously been there awhile. He's had a few, and he also has a few opinions. Opinions about politics. Which must be shared. So you brace yourself by ordering a Rattle Skull: dark ale, enhanced with a concoction of dark rum, brandy, sugar, and lime. It's dusted on top with nutmeg, cuz the conversation is about to get nutty. Before long, you and your new friend have shared a few pints and together have solved all the world's problems. The name of this classic colonial-era cocktail refers to someone who talks too much. About crazy things... like tar-and-feathering the local tax man, or declaring independence from the British crown. Whatever you and the local bar flies are plotting together, enjoy the conviviality of it all. Here's a toast you can make to win friends and influence people: "To my drinking buddies: this round's on me; cuz talk is cheap, but booze ain't free." Cheers!

We really don't protest taxes anymore like we used to. Although the federal Income tax wasn't really a thing before the Sixteenth Amendment was passed in 1913, taxes on things like tea and stamps really got folks riled up in the 18th Century. Channel your inner patriot today by choking down a mildly bitter cocktail while you mull over your moral and legal obligations to pay taxes. Today's entry in our ongoing 21 Drink Salute to America is a shot of dry gin with a half shot each of sweet and dry vermouth... and sufficient Angostura bitters to match your political bitterness. Drink up after you pay up, I guess. And when the tax man cometh, offer him a drink with this sardonic toast: "Take my coin for the government's till; your mother may love you, but I never will." Cheers!

It's not entirely true that Benjamin Franklin wanted the turkey to be America's national emblem. But he did extol the courageous virtue of the turkey in comparison to what he considered the many vices of rapacious bald eagles. To which I would reply: stay in your lane, Ben; when the topic turns to pot belly stoves and the post office, then we'll come wake you up from your nap. But with all due respect to Franklin and the turkey, it's perfectly respectable to use Wild Turkey bourbon for your Old Fashioned. This version is a shot of Wild Turkey, a half ounce of rich demerara syrup, and a liberal sprinkling of orange bitters. Drink a Turkey Old Fashioned this weekend in honor of Mr Franklin and his contributions to America: "Flying a kite in a rainstorm's too risky; much better to praise ol' Ben Franklin with whiskey." Cheers!

How many laws have you broken this week? We wrap up the first week of our 21 Drink Salute to America with a cocktail named for the rebellious spirit in all of us... and the spirit of civil disobedience that has been a hallmark of American life since the beginning of our republic. The Scofflaw is two ounces of rye whiskey (or use your best illegal backwoods moonshine), one ounce of dry vermouth, some grenadine and some orange bitters. It will leave a mildly sour taste in your mouth -- just like when you're forced to comply with laws you find objectionable. Or you can always scoff at the law and do your own thing. Right before you're arrested, toss back one of these and drink a toast like this: "Here's to all the laws of State, the ones we like and the ones we hate; my liberties I won't surrender, now I hope I get a good public defender." Cheers!

Happy Fathers Day! Let's start off the second week of our 21 Drink Salute to America with the favorite cocktail of the Father of our Country. Cherry Bounce is essentially cherries soaked in brandy with sugar and spices, allowed to marinate in a sealed mason jar for a few weeks... or until you're called upon to fight the Redcoats. The folks at Mount Vernon have a historically accurate recipe you can use; our version is a shot of brandy, a half ouce each of Maraschino cherry syrup and lemon juice, topped with sparkling wine. I cannot tell a lie: it's tart and refreshing and it cheers me to know I'm enjoying a drink that lifted the spirits of George Washington himself. At the end of the Revolutionary War, many spirited toasts were offered across all the 13 new states, including this one published in Boston in Washington's honor: "Health to his honor I’d freely drink, Had I a glass of wine; And whosoever with me shall think, May mix their toast with mine." Cheers!

Benjamin Franklin's misgivings notwithstanding, the Continental Congress went ahead and adopted the rapacious bald eagle as the central symbol on our national seal in 1782. Today's cocktail in our 21 Drink Salute to America is essentially a Paloma -- tequila, grapefruit juice, and lime juice -- with some added cranberry juice, lemon juice, and simple syrup. The rim is as salty as the Patriots who resented intrusions in their lives from across the Atlantic. Gulp down this tart, fruity, spicy cocktail while drinking a toast to the bird of prey that (for better or worse) represents us: "Let's drink to the grand bald eagle, with talons clutched so tight, round an olive branch of amity, and arrows bespeaking might. But let us always remember, the direction of his gaze; and may we, like him, prefer peace to war, for all our length of days." Cheers!

Long before the TikTok-ers and Instagrammers, the original social media influencer during Colonial times was Thomas Paine. His Enlightenment-era medium was the pamphlet, and he went viral arguing for American independence with such smash hits as "Common Sense" and "The American Crisis." Today's tropical cocktail -- our version of the classic Painkiller -- is dark rum, cream of coconut, pineapple juice, and orange juice, shaken and poured over ice. Amidst our republic's many ongoing challenges, a few of these may numb the pain just enough to stir your soul to action. Here's a little toast you can use at a rally that riffs on one of Paine's most memorable lines: "These are the times that try men's souls, our country's in another dark hour; so let's drink anew to patriots true who dare to speak bold truth to power." Cheers!

Whenever I feel weird about drinking cocktails for 21 consecutive days, I remind myself that our nation's Founders left behind recipes for huge batches of their favorite potent potables. They must have enjoyed more than just an occasional nip of liquid courage. Benjamin Franklin, for example, bequeathed us his recipe for milk punch -- which entailed curdling milk in a concoction of brandy, lemon juice, and sugar and spices; then straining off the milk curds. I foundered around with various single-serving versions of this unique drink... struggling (as I do) to make sense of converting all the damned Imperial units of measurement that we use as our lingering British hangover. I won't give you the specifics of this cocktail (frankly, Franklin, it's not that great). But I will give you this toast attributed to Franklin, the consummate diplomat and civic philosopher: "Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better man." Cheers!

Body cams and cell phones weren't around in 1770, so we may never know exactly what went down that cold March day in Boston. Best we can tell, some punk teenager began taunting a British sentry... a crowd began to gather... snowballs and rocks started to fly... reinforcements were called in... shots were fired... some good folks lost their lives, and soon the incident (actually called the "King Street Incident" by the British) riled up the masses. Today's entry in our 21 Drink Salute to America marks the "incident" with a variation of the Snowball cocktail. I wasn't able to track down any of the custardy Dutch liqueur (called Advocaat) required for a true Snowball, so I substituted a thick, egg-based Mexican liqueur called Rompope. You could also use good ol' egg nog, I suppose. Just shake about 4 ounces of your creamy liqueur with an ounce of brandy, then pour it over a glass of iced hard lemonade. Mix it up if you like, or let the liqueur form a sort of icy-creamy snowball on top of the drink. Careful, though. As the Redcoats discovered that day, those snowballs pack a wallop. Bloodshed is always to be lamented, but as we know, sometimes a tragedy can turn into a movement. And we honor the memory of folks who suffered by carrying on their cause. Here's a little toast that might be as fitting for current events as it is for the incident in 1770: "Beneath the brute force of armed troopers some cower, but here's to the masses who rise up in power; for the King may have riches and powder and guns, but when people unite it's the despot who runs." Cheers!

Listen, my children, and you shall hear, of the boozy pit-stop of Paul Revere. What they probably didn't tell you in school is that the famed Boston silversmith, en route to Lexington to warn of the British advance, stopped off at the home of local distiller Captain Isaac Hall for a double bracer of rum. Break out your finest silver barware in his honor, and quaff today's cocktail in our 21 Drink Salute to America. It's two shots of rum (one dark, one light) and an ounce each of cranberry juice, orange juice, and pineapple juice. Two shots of rum, like the two lanterns in the steeple of the Old North Church... harbingers of the first shots of the American Revolution. And as you brace yourself for whatever battles await you today, drink this toast to the folks who sally forth each day to keep the citizenry informed: journalists, teachers, meteorologists, broadcasters, librarians, filmmakers, etc.: "Paul Revere rode his horse that night, to prepare the Minutemen to get ready to fight; so here's to the folks who convey information, to them we imbibe this boozy libation." Cheers!

We don't know exactly who fired the first shot of the American Revolution at Lexington Green on April 19, 1775. But in war as in drinking, one shot invariably leads to others. Fittingly, we're marking that first shot today -- Day 14 of our ongoing 21 Drink Salute to America -- with a shot. This one is a half ounce each of coffee liqueur, Irish cream, and light rum. Shots go down quickly, so let's not dawdle today over another long, wordy toast: "I'll take this shot, my aim is true; I drink to your health, and to liberty, too!" Cheers!

Ethan Allen and his Green Mountain Boys furnished the first offensive victory of the Revolutionary War, capturing Fort Ticonderoga on May 10, 1775. So our final week of the 21 Drink Salute to America begins with a colonial-era cocktail that fueled the spirits of the troops the night before they took the fight to the Redcoats. The Ticonderoga -- also called the Stone Fence -- is just a shot of dark rum (or, if you prefer, whiskey) poured over hard apple cider. Be sure to use a coaster if you set this down on one of your upscale Ethan Allen end tables. And remember the Green Mountain Boys whenever you're inclined to lament the status quo: "Let's drink them a toast -- our thirst, let us slake it; if you want something badly, ya gotta go take it." Cheers!

The infantry musket used in the Revolutionary War fired a lead projectile slightly larger than a malted milk ball through its long, smooth bore -- with limited accuracy. Our cocktail today is as smooth as a musket's bore, but hits the spot much more surely. It's scotch mixed with creme de cacao, served (like fragile democracy?) always on the rocks. Garnish it with sweet powder and chocolate balls for full impact at close range. Enjoy one of these as you imagine and drink to a future where our conflicts can be resolved with brains rather than arms: "To a peaceful tomorrow, as dear hope allows; may spears become pruners and swords become plows." Cheers!

The British employment of German auxiliary units -- called Hessians -- was one of the 27 grievances catalogued in the Declaration of Independence. Despised by the Americans for their ruthless tactics and penchant for plunder, the Hessians at one point accounted for roughly one-third of British military forces engaged against the colonists. Washington spanked them in the proverbial lederhosen in Trenton, New Jersey after crossing the Delaware River in December of 1776. Yet after the war, thousands of them opted to stay behind in this Land of Opportunity to become farmers and tradesmen and make America their home. Today's cocktail is a version of the mule -- a mug of ginger beer topped off in this case with Jagermeister, with a little lime juice and cucumber muddled in to mellow out its Teutonic harshness. Our not-so-stubborn mule honors those German enemies who eventually became our neighbors. Because the best way to vanquish an adversary is to turn him into an ally. Drink your refreshing Hessian Mule in a refreshing spirit of reconciliation: "When the fighting is over, our fences we mend; here’s to the foe that I now call my friend.” Cheers!

The Continental Army wasn't fancy, especially early in the war. But fancy uniforms don't win battles. Decisive American victories at the Battles of Saratoga in the fall of 1777 were impressive enough on their own merits to win over the support of important allies like France. And lest we forget, without the fancy Frenchies, we'd probably be groveling to King Charles today. Our cocktails in this summer's 21 Drink Salute to America have not (in my opinion, anyway) been super fancy. Today's entry -- the Saratoga -- is just equal parts brandy, whiskey, and sweet vermouth. A fancy twist of lemon doesn't add much razzle-dazzle to its unassuming, brownish appearance... but I assure you this drink (a variant of the classic Manhattan) is a balanced, boozy win by any standard. Celebrate your small, unglamorous victories today with this toast: "Here's to a win, to victory, success; outcome, not image, is the way to impress." Cheers!

A friend in need is a friend, indeed. America's fight for independence relied heavily on support from friends across the pond -- including the French and the Dutch. The British, meanwhile, essentially had to go it alone. Today's cocktail is a variation of the French 75 (gin with lemon juice and simple syrup atop a base of Champagne). We've given a nod to the Dutch by using the gin-like Dutch spirit genever, while adding in a little Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur from France... and using un-fancy sparkling wine from the good ol' U.S.A. It's a friendly amalgam of French, Dutch, and American booze, representing the spirit of friendship and international goodwill that's a hallmark of true patriotism. Enjoy this drink with friends from all over: "To those who support us through thick and through thin; may we always remember, with friendship we win." Cheers!

Our penultimate cocktail in this year's 21 Drink Salute marks America's victory over the British at Yorktown in 1781, and the surrender of General Cornwallis that signaled an end to hostilities in the Revolutionary War. Our drink today is rye whiskey, lemon juice, and simple syrup, shaken together with an egg white and topped off with a little red wine. After the surrender, American and French officers hosted a dinner with the sour British officers. Perhaps the victors offered a wry toast such as this one: "Here's to the British, let's enjoy our fine dinners; in war, as in life, there are losers and winners. To the victorious Yanks, let's drink, whate'er shall befall us; and also to the runner-up, General Cornwallis." Cheers!

The pipers and percussionists who marched into battle during the Revolutionary War were there primarily for communication, not entertainment. Skilled musicians could cut through the noise and clamor of war to send signals of advance and retreat, of what to do and where to go. Our final cocktail in this year's 21 Drink Salute to America is a striking medley of rummy flavors. It's a base of grenadine and gold rum; an airy, effervescent layer of coconut rum mixed with Fresca; topped off with a cool head of blue curacao and light rum. There's a lot of sound and fury swirling about the battlefield of public discourse in today's America. Try to tune out the noise and the chaos that threaten to slow our advance... and listen for those hopeful melodies and cadences that can stir us to march forward together. Our Republic (if we can keep it) and our semiquincentennial (if we can pronounce it) are worth celebrating. So here's one final toast to honor the USA's first 250 years... as we look ahead with optimism to the next 250:
"We drink a toast to yesterday and today,
To those who dared to enter the fray.
A debt of gratitude we pay,
To those whose torches lit the way.
So pipe a tune and bang a drum
Let fierce divisions be overcome.
Lest patriot hearts grow dull and numb,
Let's imagine what America can yet become." Cheers!