Madeira Mondays: A Forgotten 18th Century Drink

Last week, I received two very good pieces of news. One I cannot talk about publicly yet (ohhhh secret!) but the other I can happily announce is that I have a new poetry book coming out! My second poetry pamphlet will be published later this year with Scottish indie press, Stewed Rhubarb. They specialize in publishing spoken word poetry and as a spoken word poet myself, it was the perfect fit! The book has poems about early American history, about sex, about literature…basically, all the stuff I’m interested in! (Can you tell I’m excited?). I can’t wait to work with Stewed Rhubarb, and with my fabulous editor Katie Ailes, on this book and I’ll share lots more info. when we’re closer to publication day.

But I wanted to celebrate the publication news this week by making an 18th century drink. Since it was a chilly February day, I chose a warm drink called ‘Flip’. I’m not going to include the full recipe here because (spoiler alert) I found this drink pretty vile, BUT I will tell you what it is, how I made it, and here’s a link to an excellent video with step-by-step instructions of how you can make it too, if it seems like your sort of thing (It was definitely not mine!). Jas Townsend, the re-enactor who makes it in the video, seems to really enjoy his though so…maybe it just wasn’t for me?

So, what is ‘Flip’?

The 1890’s had the gimlet. The 1990’s had the Cosmo. In the 1690’s and even the 1790’s, it was the creamy flip that ruled the bar…

Forgotten Drinks of Colonial New England by Corin Hirsch

Flip is a hot, frothy drink that is a blend of ale, rum, some sort of sweetener (molasses or sugar) and sometimes eggs and cream. It’s also usually spiced with nutmeg and/or ginger, and it was very popular in 18th century America. It popped up in American taverns in the 1690’s and was still popular during the Revolutionary War. Food writer Corin Hirsch, in the book quoted above, found one instance of a tavern in Holden, Massachusetts, who charged more during the Revolutionary War for their Flip than they did for a bed. A mug of ‘New England Flip’ was 9 Dollars, versus a bed in the common boarding room for women, 2 shillings! Either those sleeping arrangements were really bad, or their flip was really good, or both.

How do you make it?

I have to admit that making Flip was kind of fun because you are meant to pour the drink between two separate pitchers until it is blended. So I mixed an egg and some spices in one bowl, then heated up some ale separately, and then added them together in these two pitchers – pouring back and forth until it was creamy.

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The two pitchers I used to make my (pretty dreadful) ‘Flip’

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Pouring the mixture from one pitcher to another to mix it. (Even the flowers in this picture look sad. They probably don’t like Flip either!)

I was vaguely following along with the Townsend video linked above and also there’s a recipe for it in Forgotten Drinks of Colonial New England. In any case, the resulting mixture was creamy-ish, but there were itty bitty chunks of cooked egg inside it, which I suppose I could have strained out. But I also did not like the smell of it: the hot, yeasty smell of the beer, mixed with the nutmeg and ginger, mixed with the egg.

But I think where I really went wrong is that in the 18th century Flip was heated up a second time (after you’d mixed the drink) by plunging a hot fire poker into the middle of it. The poker heated it (of course), but also added burnt flavors. I would imagine this might work better than what I did, which was put the whole thing back on the stovetop briefly, once I’d mixed it all together, just to get it warm again. By not using an actual fire poker, you lose some of that fire flavor, which was probably part of what made the drink special.

What did it taste like?

Not nice, you guys.

Even though I drank it from a fantastic Bernie Sanders ‘Feel the Bern’ mug, that was not enough to save this drink from tasting really, really bad to me.

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For one thing, it was pretty sweet. I tasted the sugar definitely and also rum has its own sweetness…all of that together made for a thick, HEAVY, brownish drink that actually turned my stomach.

Looking back on it, I’m not really sure why I picked Flip in the first place, other than the fact that it looked fun to pour the drink between the two pitchers. I’m not a beer drinker, and I don’t love rum, so I’m not sure why I thought I would enjoy those two things heated up and mixed together with an egg. I would still try it again if someone else made it who knew what they were doing, but I think this experiment was probably doomed from the outset!

Nevertheless, I am glad that I tried it, because now I will know what it is if I ever run across it in a historical source. And my stomach will turn at the memory of making this forgotten concoction from the 18th century. Which I will not be resurrecting again any time soon!

Recommended Reading/Viewing:

Forgotten Drinks of Colonial New England: From Flips & Rattle-Skulls to Switchel and Spruce Beer by Corin Hirsch

‘Popular Drink Fallen into Obscurity- ‘Flip’ from the 1820s’ on Townsends YouTube Channel

For an 18th century drink that I definitely did enjoy, check out my recipe for whipped syllabub!

(Today’s Featured Image is an 18th century oil painting, ‘Young Couple in a Rural Tavern’, by Giacomo Francesco Cipper)

‘Madeira Mondays’ is a series of blog posts exploring Early American history and historical fiction. I’m not a historian, but an author and poet who is endlessly fascinated by this time period. I am also currently writing/researching a novel set during the American Revolution and recently finished a Doctorate of Fine Art looking at how creative writers access America’s eighteenth-century past. Follow the blog for a new post every Monday and thanks for reading!

 

Madeira Mondays: Syllabub Recipe

You probably already know that people in early America were drinking alcohol. But you might be surprised to know just how much of it they were drinking. Water wasn’t sanitary to drink, so they were boozing it up big time in the thirteen colonies with ales, ciders, wines (like Madeira!) and strong rum punches. What you drank and where you drank it varied by gender and class (an elite lady, for instance, wouldn’t be swigging pints of ale in a tavern), but alcohol was flowing very freely during this time. As food writer Corin Hirsch says in Forgotten Drinks of Colonial New England:

‘From the mid-1600s on, a New England rota looked like this: At breakfast, wash down some brown bread and sliced cheese with a pewter tankard of hard cider, the equivalent of two pints of beer. Work didn’t proceed far before a late-morning break (…) an occasion for a glass of beer or another of cider. Lunch necessitated more booze, as did the afternoon break, supper and evening socializing in the local ordinary (aka tavern). A birth? Drink. A wedding. Drink some more.’

You get the idea.

Now, as a writer and as a person, I am deeply interested in food and drink, so for the last few months I’ve been trying to recreate some 18th century recipes and that includes drink recipes. And one of the easiest and most fun drinks that I’ve made is syllabub.

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Homemade syllabub! Check out those cool layers.

If you’re living in the UK you might be familiar with this drink (which I’ve heard is still served occasionally at restaurants and I actually found this Nigella Lawson recipe for an Amaretto syllabub, bringing an Italian spin on this English drink), but if you’re in the USA or elsewhere chances are you probably haven’t. But it was a very popular drink in 18th century America and the best way that I can describe it is that it’s basically like an alcoholic Frappuccino. And as someone who personally doesn’t always love super creamy beverages, I am a huge fan of this particular drink and have made it at several parties now and it’s always a crowd pleaser. It also looks impressive but is easy to prepare and I wanted to share my recipe with you.

I think recipes are sort of like fairy tales in that there isn’t really an ‘original’, just many different iterations, but it’s useful to think about where your version comes from. The way I like to make syllabub is inspired by this video from brilliant re-enactor/YouTuber Jas Townsend on his YouTube Channel. Really worth a watch if you’re into history or cooking or both. They make 18th century recipes! He was following a recipe (or ‘receipt’, as it would have been called back then) from Eliza Smith’s The Compleat Housewife, 1739. But I have also seen a short recipe for it in Mary Randolph’s The Virginia Housewife or, Methodical Cook, 1860. As I mentioned, it was a pretty common drink/dessert.

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Recipe for syllabub from The Virginian Housewife

So I took those as inspiration, but slightly modernized it to use Prosecco instead of white wine. The reason for that is that I think the bubbles bring a nice lightness to the drink (contrasting with the heavy cream) and also it’s much easier to whip by hand if you’re using something with bubbles in it (like cider or Prosecco). Also because I love Prosecco.

Syllabub Recipe

Ingredients (for 4 glasses of syllabub):

– 1 bottle of Prosecco (or white wine or cider)

– 2 lemons

– 1/2 cup sugar

– 2 cups heavy cream

– nutmeg

Note on the measurements: these are very approximate and if you don’t have a measuring cup, you could always just use a mug for coffee or tea to measure things out.

How to make it:

  1. Fill glasses up halfway with Prosecco (or white wine or cider)
  2. In a separate mixing bowl, add one cup of Prosecco, the juice of both lemons, ½ cup of sugar and stir until dissolved together.
  3. Add the 2 cups of heavy cream to the mixing bowl and whip together until it becomes thickened like whipped cream! (NB This might take a while if you’re doing it by hand. Maybe 10-15 minutes. You could also use an electric mixer if you have one and want to save time).
  4. Spoon the foamy whipped cream topping into the glasses over the top of the Prosecco. It should float on top. If it sinks, you haven’t whipped it long enough.
  5. Add a sprinkle of nutmeg and a squirt of lemon over the top of each drink.
  6. Serve!

A great non-alcoholic version could also be made with grape juice or apple juice.

As you drink it, you can stir it up together and eat it with a spoon, more like a custard, or eat the foam and then drink the wine after – it’s entirely up to you.

I’ve heard of other ways of making this, including using egg whites, but this is my favorite way. The lemon makes everything taste bright and fresh, not too heavy, and balances out nicely with the cream. The nutmeg on top also looks cool but adds an unusual and very authentic 18th century taste to it (it was a very popular spice in the 18thcentury kitchen).

I’d serve this as a dessert drink after dinner because it’s quite sweet. Another cool thing about it is that it would be good in the winter, a bit like eggnog, or summer, like a Frappuccino. In The Compleat Housewife, 18th century writer Eliza Smith suggests it for June, but I think it would be fun for a winter holiday party too.

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Syllabub! Apologies for the slightly blurry image. Blame it on the Prosecco I was sipping as I made the drink.

Let me know if you’ve had this before or if you end up making it, I’d love to see! It really is a crowd pleaser because of its striking, layered look and is super simple to prepare. You can impress people with your knowledge of historic drinks and then booze it up like it’s 1770.

Cheers!

‘Madeira Mondays’ is a series of blog posts exploring Early American history and historical fiction. I’m not a historian, but an author and poet who is endlessly fascinated by this time period. I am also currently writing/researching a novel set during the American Revolution and recently finished a Doctorate of Fine Art looking at how creative writers access America’s eighteenth-century past. Follow the blog for a new post every Monday and any questions or suggestions feel free to get in touch.