'Tis the Season for Eggnog

Oh, yes friends....it's once again that special time of year. There's a nip in the air, the city has finally sucked up all the leaves from the curb, Christmas lights are beginning to appear in the neighborhood; 'tis the season of joy which cometh upon us every December. And what is that season, you ask?

'Tis the season for eggnog.

It's the time of year when otherwise reasonable people will make a goopy liquid consisting of beaten eggs and goop, then gladly drink it down and exclaim how tasty it is. I'm fine with the goop by the way, but raw eggs? Has civilized man learned nothing about the impropriety of drinking liquefied half-chickens in the name of spirited holiday celebrations? Apparently not. As for me, I'm not a big fan of raw eggs. Fry them babies up before you throw them in the goop, then you might have a drink worth tasting. Especially if you throw in some bacon and a little hot sauce. But I digress.

The history of eggnog goes back to Old England, or Iceland, or somewhere old and far away; no one really knows. I suppose that's good in a way since it alleviates any one geo-political group from having to shoulder the blame. Nonetheless eggnog is really old and, with just the right recipe, it can most certainly taste that way. Eggnog is usually made with milk, cream, sugar and beaten eggs, with nothing but one's taste buds to determine how much of each ingredient to add. In addition, according to really old people who know about really old recipes from really old places really far away, sometimes various liquors are added to the festive brew. I'm sure this is done to keep people from the realization that they are drinking liquefied half-chickens.

One must ask, if one is completely sane, why someone would add beaten eggs to a glass of milk, cream, and sugar. Being that I'm completely sane, allow me to ask.

"Why someone would add beaten eggs to a glass of milk, cream, and sugar?"

I consulted a well known expert by the name of history.shtml (that's a web site for those of you who are Internet-challenged) which claimed the eggs were added to give the drink a "frothy foam." Hmmmm...that may be even more disturbing than the eggs themselves. Why does one need a frothy foam on one's beverage? For flavor? Perhaps to make the beverage look manly? Or is just to satisfy everyone's childish urge to sport a frothy foam mustache? You make the call.

Getting back to the illustrious history of eggnog, the name of this appetizing swamp of flavors comes from an old English term meaning, "a beverage for crazy people who don't mind mixing raw eggs, dairy products, and a shot of whiskey." I'm sorry, I made that up. The truth is the "egg" part of the name comes from.....umm, I can't say because history.shtml didn't know. But the "nog" part comes either from the word "noggin", which was a small, carved, wooden cup used to serve alcoholic beverages, or it might come from the term "grog", which is an old word for rum. Rum, by the way, is something Colonial Americans were fond of adding to their version of eggnog. In either case, here's an instance where I don't care what's in a name. It's what's in the cup that scares me!

But anyway, back in jolly old England eggnog was a beverage enjoyed mostly by the "aristocracy", which by the way, is a word that means "upper-class people who have too much money and time on their hands to know that hot cocoa is a much better option for those long, winter nights." The history books claim the common man did not imbibe eggnog because the ingredients were too expensive to afford. I'm a bit suspicious of that. Perhaps the ingredients were expensive, but I bet the common man was smart enough to not waste his money coming up with liquefied egg drinks.

"Leave that to the rich folks. They'll try anything!"

And so as our grand tour through the history of eggnog draws to a merciful end, I am reminded of past Decembers when my Aunt Bertha would follow up a splendid turkey and ham feast with a nip of the old egg. She'd bring a special noggin from her own collection, chosen specifically for that year's holiday celebrations; which leads to one final thought. If Aunt Bertha had her very own collection of noggins for drinking her goopy concoction, is it possible her collection was missing the most important noggin of all?

While I ponder the possibilities, please pass the eggnog. Oh...and how about a piece of that fruitcake too.