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Virginia
Spirits By Dan Gill In May of 1607, Captain
Newport, John Smith and company sailed up the James River seeking gold, trade
goods and a shortcut to the Orient. They were running a little short on food,
but were well supplied with casks of sack (fortified wine), beer and
distilled spirits called "aqua vita". Aqua vita is Latin for
"water of life", the generic term for distilled spirits throughout
Europe during the age of discovery. In French it is "eau de vie"
and in Irish and Scottish dialects it is ÒusquebaughÓ and ÒuisgebeatheÓ
respectively, from which we get the word ÒwhiskeyÓ. Europeans and especially
the English had learned that water was not to be trusted, so they drank beer,
wine, ciders and ardent spirits for their good health. The ÒMorning DraughtÓ,
usually of beer, was considered essential protection against the Òmiasmatic
exhalations of the marshesÓ. They were right: Beer is generally safe to drink
since the water is first boiled and alcohol and hops have anti-microbial
properties. The English did not even want water to touch their skin, so they
did not bathe or brush their teeth, much to the disgust of the Powhatan
Indians. Native Americans were
familiar with fermented fruits but were not accustomed to the strong waters
of the English. In return for native hospitality, Captain Newport shared some
of his aqua vita with a local chieftain. The poor fellow, being unused to
strong spirits, fell into a stupor and thought he had been poisoned. Newport
mumbled some magic words over the distraught chieftain and told him that he
would be cured by morning. Of course by morning he had sobered; Newport was
credited with a miracle cure, and all of the natives descended on him wanting
to know when they would be cured of various ailments. Unfortunately, stores of
alcoholic beverages from England soon ran out and re-supply was sporadic at
best: Colonists had to make their own or drink the contaminated waters of
Jamestown and risk death from disease. They planted wheat and barley for
beer, grapes for wine, and apples, pears and peaches for cider and brandy. By
1609, they were advertising for brewers and had two alehouses in Jamestown. Mature grapes, berries and
fruits generally have enough sugars to feed yeasts and produce alcohol.
Grains, including corn, have their sugar stored as starches, which must be
broken down to be fermented. Sprouted grains, especially barley, contain
enzymes designed to do just that in order to fuel the young plant with sugar.
The process of sprouting and drying grains is called malting and the result
is malt. In 1623 the Assembly recommended that all incoming colonists bring
in enough malt to brew sufficient liquor to drink, instead of Virginia water,
until they became Òhardened to the climateÓ. Seventeenth Century Virginians
learned to ferment just about anything that contained sugars, or starches
that could be converted to sugars. They were fond of persimmon beer and also
used sassafras, Tuckahoe roots, green corn stalks and mulberries. In September 1619, the Margaret
sailed from Bristol with settlers bound for an 8000 acre grant of wilderness
on the James River later known as Berkeley Hundred. Provisions included Ò5
1/2 tuns of beer, 6 tuns of cider, 11 gallons of sack, 15 gallons of aqua
vitae..." The primary sponsor, Lord Berkeley, sent specific instructions
as to how the affairs of his new venture were to be conducted: "Wee
ordaine that the day of our ships arrivall at the place assigned for
plantacon in the land of Virginia shall be yearly and perputually keept holy
as a day of thanksgiving to Almighty god." Thus on December 4th,
more than a year before the pilgrims sailed, Captain Woodleif led his band of
settlers to a grassy clearing to kneel and give thanks. There was no feast:
no turkey or venison. After almost three months at sea there was precious
little left to eat and no time to hunt. Judging from the list of provisions,
however, they could at least drink the health of the King and Lord Berkeley
and his household, down to the scullery maid. (Incidentally, the story of the
PilgrimsÕ Thanksgiving is a fabrication that didnÕt even surface for a few
centuries.) One of the company, and a sponsor, was the religious zealot
George Thorpe. George brewed some beer from the native corn and declared that
it was Òmuch better than British ale." He then ran some through his
still, probably an alembic as shown below, and made the first corn whiskey,
the forerunner of moonshine and bourbon. (Actually, bourbon didnÕt come along
for two more centuries when a Baptist minister in Bourbon County, Kentucky
filled some fire-damaged barrels with corn whiskey.) George was later
instructed to convert natives to Christianity and establish a college for
their education. Unfortunately for George, they were quite happy with their
own beliefs and resented being preached to. During the massacre of 1622,
Reverend George Thorpe was singled out for special treatment: Bits and pieces
of him were found scattered all over the compound. Thus ended any plans for
converting natives to Christianity and educating them, at least for a long
time. About the same time, the Pilgrims were heading for a harbor in Northern Virginia (now in the vicinity of Manhattan Island, New York) but were delayed by leaky ships and were blown off course by storms. By the time they fetched up on Cape Cod, they had consumed their stores of beer and had started on the ships stores. The colonists wanted to sail south but the crew, faced with the prospect of having to drink water on the return voyage, refused the delay and put them ashore in an abandoned Indian corn field at Plymouth. It was only after much pleading that the captain shared some of his precious beer (for medicinal purposes) before sailing back to England.
Reference and Photo: MartinÕs
Hundred by Ivor No‘l Hume The Eighteenth Century was the
golden age of alcohol production and consumption in Virginia. Alehouses,
taverns and ordinaries were located at every crossroads, river crossing and
town. Court days, elections, horse races, barbecues, and political gatherings
were well attended and well provided with strong beverage. Most plantations
made their own cider and beer. Many had their own malt house and distillery,
including Mount Vernon. Prosperous planters imported huge quantities of
European wines, mostly fortified. The French Huguenot, Durand,
chronicled some of the goings-on at Rosegill in Middlesex County, including
all-night card games and the consumption of prodigious quantities of wine,
cider and beer. Durand found the wine so strong that he diluted his with
water and remarked that the Governor (Lord Howard of Effingham) and Wormeley
laughed at him as they took theirs straight and still managed to keep an even
keel. The Knights of the Golden Horseshoe were so well supplied with aqua
vitae, sack, Madera and cider, that is a wonder they ever found their way
back from the Blue Ridge Mountains. In spite of the heavy, almost universal
consumption of alcoholic beverages, drunkenness was not tolerated and was dealt
with severely by society, the church and the law. As more and more Scottish, Irish
and German immigrants moved down the ÒGreat War PathÓ and settled the valleys
and hollows of the Blue Ridge and Appalachian mountains, distilling took on a
new economic role. The only practical way to transport a bulky crop to a
distant market was to convert it to alcohol. This arrangement worked well
until, following the Revolution, war debts resulted in substantial taxes
levied on alcohol. It was actually not so much the tax at issue, rather the
way it was applied to the disadvantage of small producers in remote areas.
The independent settlers thought they had the God-given right to make whiskey
for their economic survival; George Washington, also a brewer and distiller,
disagreed resulting in the Whiskey Rebellion and the moonshine industry. Even
now many believe that both the Federal prohibition on distilling for personal
use and the severe penalties for the possession or use of any distilling
equipment, regardless of size, are unreasonable if not unconstitutional and
an affront to the concept of personal freedom. Some countries, such as New
Zealand, now allow private distilling and there is a movement for similar
legal reform in the United States. ÒSomething DifferentÓ is now
officially classified by ABC as a ÒGourmet ShopÓ. Though we are still an ÒABC
offÓ establishment, we can have wine and beer tastings. Our wine selection is
relatively small, but diverse and highly selective. We are expanding our specialty
beer selection and customers can assemble their own six-packs of micro-brews
and fine imports. We now have a selection of the rare and expensive Lambic
beers of Belgium. True Lambics are produced just like the original beers that
were shipped over with the first settlers: Hops are used for preservation
rather than taste, so more are used. The hops are carefully aged, and
therefore do not impart the harsh bitterness of fresh hops. Cooled wort is
exposed to wild yeasts and bacteria in the air to cause fermentation. After
brewing, often with fruit, the beer is aged in wooden casks for several years
like fine wine. Because of the slightly sour flavor and complex and
refreshing taste, Lambics are more often compared to fine champagne and
French wines than other beers. Spirited Recipes DanÕs Soon-to-be-famous
Red-Eye Sunday Morning Wake-up Juice Sunday mornings were always special in our family. Time
to relax, reflect, and recuperate from Saturday night. In the winter, I would
awaken to strains of Mozart or Hayden and wonderful smells wafting up from
the kitchen: Salt herring and biscuits; or country ham and MotherÕs
buttermilk hotcakes; or country sausage and scrambled eggs. The morning started with coffee and a
Bloody Mary or two (the only time drinks were served before five oÕclock). We
would visit in the kitchen while Mother cooked. We talked of interesting
stuff, such as family stories and local history; not business or work or
daily problems. Making Bloody Marys at home was always a ritual. We put up
our own tomato juice and seasoned it with salt, pepper, celery salt,
Worcestershire, hot sauce, horseradish and a few other things if we could
find them. Proportions varied somewhat, and we were often out of something
critical, such as horseradish. Several years ago I decided to pre-mix all of
the things that make exceptional Bloody Marys (except the vodka) and just
stir a teaspoon full in each glass of tomato juice. I called it "DanÕs
Soon-To-Be-Famous, Red Eye, Sunday Morning Wake-Up Juice Concentrate". It
contains all of the stuff we couldnÕt find on Sunday morning plus a few
ingredients that Mother never thought of. Customers at the store liked it so
much that I started packing it as "depth charges" sized for a 46 oz
can of juice (Sacramento brand is a passable substitute for homemade), and as
half pints, which season 12 to 16 quarts. Simply whisk into juice, add
spirits of choice and serve over ice with a celery stalk or slice of lemon.
Subsequently, we discovered that the concentrate is a perfect blend of
seasonings for beef stew and other meat dishes. The Spongy
Ryder Several years ago, my beverage of choice was the "Salty Dog": tall glass, salted rim, vodka and grapefruit juice. By and by I got bored and decided to try ÒSomething DifferentÓ. I went to CafŽ Mojo in Urbanna one evening and asked Wanda to substitute rum for vodka and top off the grapefruit juice with a little pineapple juice to compliment the rum. I thought it was a refreshing change, so I passed it around the bar for more opinions. Everybody liked it and suggested that I give it a name, but not something pedestrian. I said, "OK, I'll call it a 'Spongy Ryder'." Anticipating the vacuous countenances of my bar-mates, I followed with the explanation: "When I was in ÔThe NamÕ, we were assigned radio call signs that indigenous personnel could not pronounce. The army paid linguists good money to come up with unique call signs and mine was 'Spongy RyderÕ.Ó Knowing that the chances of actually inventing a new drink were close to nil, I checked my bartender's guides to no avail. Then I went on-line and checked "Drinks-R-Us" and Googled the ingredients - again, nothing. "OK, maybe I have stumbled upon something original." Next, I checked with all of the professional bartenders that I knew but no one had encountered this particular combination. Encouraged that I may go down in the annals of drinkdom, I named the saltless version "the Easy Ryder" and the virgin version (with or without salt), the "C C Ryder". One night, a substitute bartender used cranberry instead of grapefruit juice and that became the ÒRed RyderÓ. It still appears to be original so the question becomes; "how do I plant my flag and make it legitimate?" Well, my blurbs are copyrighted and published É.. Something Different Country Store and Deli Published in Pleasant Living
magazine September- October 2006 Previous: Savory Swimmers |
