A Jew In Search of Eggnog

"I could have written a gooey piece about how Christmas and the first night of Hanukkah fall on the same day this year. But I felt like writing about eggnog! I’m gonna find some before sundown."

Yesterday I met three non-Jewish friends for lunch. It’s usually “Taco Tuesday,” but since the Tavern Grille was closed on Christmas Eve, we ate at an Italian restaurant owned by a friend of ours.

A few jokes ensued about our Jewish/Christian differences (as happens often), and also the difference in holiday traditions. I was surprised to hear one of them use the word “dreidel.” He jokingly asked “what the hell are dreidels anyway?”

I expressed my shock that he even knew the word, until he flashed me the “c’mon, man” look and said “Uh, Adam Sandler?” Ah, “Eight Crazy Nights.” Right.

A few hours later, a friend and I were having a rare political exchange via text. After we each had our say, I told him to “go have some more f’in eggnog!” And then I got curious, went online, and went down an eggnog rabbit hole.

I’m sure I’ve had a pop of eggnog at some point or another, but I can’t remember when. Or what it tastes like. And it probably wasn’t my speed anyway, since I prefer alcohol that is unadulterated. Just reading about the ingredients — cream, sugar and cinnamon (or nutmeg) that accompanies the milk and eggs — gave me a virtual toothache. And then there’s the sugary booze that goes in; bourbon or brandy or rum or whiskey or…

I figured I’d go pick up a carton this morning before I drove to Palm Springs and taste it so I could include my own flavor description here. But all of the grocery stores are closed. Bah-humbug! Back-up plan: Ask my Christmas-celebrating friends to weigh in on the nog.

Bill in Chicago is pretty into it:

“Actually it’s pretty good. Going to crack ours open soon and put a little bourbon aged in Amburana barrels so it has a bit of cinnamon zip.”

Now that’s a pro. Sounds pretty good. My friend Sam in Cincinnati had a different take:

“When I hear the term egg nog, I immediately think of the ‘jugging/shot challenges" people do (a la Jackass) where people inevitably end up puking it all out.”

One version of the “Eggnog Challenge.”

Isn’t that what holidays are all about? My favorite reply came from Kevin in Arizona, after he reminded me that eggnog is one word:

“That’s like asking for an interesting sentence about a thumb. I think I first tried eggnog when I was like 25. Just the concept of it seemed so dumb to me. ‘Here’s some weird milk we only drink at the holidays.’ Just couldn’t ever get behind it. Same but different, I’ve never eaten at a Schlotzsky’s because the song in their commercial was so stupid. My principles might be off a few wing nuts but I stick by them.”

Amen. I mean, Happy Yuletide. I mean, Happy Hanukkah…

Just one historical note on where eggnog was born; it didn’t all happen at one time and in one place. The nog part first came from across the pond. It was kind of a heavy beer brewed in East Anglia, England in the 1600s.

The addition of eggs seems to have been an American deviation. Looks like it worked out. Back in 1775, a Maryland clergyman named John Boucher wrote a poem about:

Fog-drams i' th' morn, or (better still) egg-nogg,
At night hot-suppings, and at mid-day, grogg,
My palate can regale

Probably a better poem after a few eggnogs.

I suppose I could have written a gooey piece this morning about how Christmas and the first night of Hanukkah are falling on the same day this year. But I felt like writing about eggnog. I’m gonna find some before sundown.

Meanwhile, cheers, l’chaim, salud, a la dolce vida… Whatever you’re celebrating, try to avoid the Jackass challenge. “Refunding” is something that affects everyone in the vicinity. Plus, as George Costanza reminds us, you’re “paying” for those things!

Chag Sameach. Merry Christmas. Peace toward all men and women.

And dogs.

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