Classic Rye Cocktails #8: McKinley's Delight

This one's not just for politicians.

As a clear reference to William McKinley, this drink was supposedly created in 1896, when the Ohioan was nominated by the Republican Party to take on William Jennings Bryan, the Democratic and Populist candidate for the presidency. Bryan, too, had a drink associated with his platform--the Free Silver Fizz (gin, lime juice, and carbonated water, over ice).

The connection between cocktails and politics was well established. In fact, the first reference we have to the term "cocktail" comes from 1806, in a newspaper article describing how a Federalist defeated a Democratic-Republican candidate in New York's Hudson River Valley despite the latter's attempt to secure votes by handing out almost 300 mixed drinks.

Some early references to this cocktail suggest a rather different composition than what you see below. The Nebraska Pioneer Cookbook, for instance, a 1974 compilation of late nineteenth-century recipes, suggests that a McKinley's Delight consisted of three dashes of gum syrup, two dashes of Maraschino, lemon juice, two dashes of Angostura bitters, and a jigger of gin--all stirred over iced and strained into a sugar-encrusted glass. This drink simply boggles the mind. No rye drinker would be caught dead with such a weak, syrupy concoction in hand. No wonder Jim Crow and imperial ambition dominated daily life.

While most rye drinkers (especially rural westerners) likely voted for Bryan, McKinley, of course, won the election. He catapulted the nation into a thinly-veiled war for empire, abandoned any pretense of the Republican Party's historic role as a party for progressive politics (especially on race), and cemented the power of large corporations in American life. Sound familiar?

Anyways...

Though it retains a moniker that many might shy from, after World War II the drink was transformed into something palatable and patriotic. The Esquire Handbook for Hosts, first published in 1949, lists the drink in its cocktails section, suggesting it could be made with either bourbon or rye. Predictably, the latter makes for better quaffing. Much of the sweetness was gone in this incarnation, with only sweet vermouth and cherry liquor in place to balance the whiskey.

Interestingly, at least one source suggests that as early as 1939, this same drink was known as a "Remember the Maine."

What can we say? Some things will always remain a mystery. What's important is that rye transformed this cocktail from slops into a classic. And that's good enough for me.

Here's the recipe:

2 oz rye whiskey
1 oz sweet vermouth
2 dashes cherry brandy
1 dash absinthe (or absinthe substitute)

Mix in a shaker, over ice. Strain into either a lowball glass or a martini glass. There's no garnish.

At the end of the day, this is essentially a variation on a Manhattan (though one with less rye than the recommended dosage for that drink). Nonetheless, it's a good variation, one worth keeping in your repertoire for those evenings when something snazzier than a Manhattan is required.

Deriving an everyday politics--not just an election day politics--from rye whiskey...

In these days immediately after the election, I think we should again turn to rye.

No, I'm not an alcoholic. In fact, I'm anything but.

Nonetheless, the ancient liquor of our nation holds much wisdom. After the excess of rum and madeira in the colonial era, those newly-christened Americans, their hand forced by the cutting off of these spirits, came up with rye. Remember, rye is one of the three greatest contributions the United States has offered the world (the second is the cocktail, and the third is a particular cocktail--the gin martini).

This ability to innovate in the face of adversity--embodied in America's finest ryes--is the first lesson that the brown liquor imparts. Critical thinking and a knack for new ideas trump dependence on the status quo every time.

The second? Engaged independent-mindedness. Rye emerged as the American spirit in the late eighteenth-century from independent farmers that cared about their community. Hew to no party line except for one--the values derived from the golden rule, mimicking this golden brown spirit. Engage in party politics when necessary in order to serve the least among you, but always keep the first lesson in mind.

The third? Assert your basic liberties for the common good. As an example, see the many farmers who distilled their crops into rye and asserted the power of the people in the Whiskey Rebellion--or should we call it a Regulator's Rebellion?

The fourth? Rye offers more than simple pleasures. It suggests a politics beyond politics. Drinking rye sets you apart. It offers up a way to stand outside the crowd and for the Bill of Rights. That means envisioning political action outside of party politics. In other words, there is something bigger required of us than being a party-line Republican or Democrat or even an independent. In our society, that might mean fighting consumer culture, turning off your TV, rejecting political disengagement, using a bike or scooter or bus or train instead of a car to get around, growing your own food, and a host of others...all of which help us to create our own hope.

The fifth? Local is better. Our local ryes are best. No need to import rum or vodka or gin from across the oceans. Maybe it cuts down on global warming-gas emissions (but not always, given economies of scale). Maybe it helps our regional or state or town's economy in a difficult time. But an attention to localism always strengthens our immediate communities, deepening the ties that bind us to our closest neighbors.

At the end of this political season, the five lessons of rye constitute an ideology to remember.

To summarize:

1) Never stop thinking critically about the world.

2) Be wary and independent of political parties and ideologies, but do not let cynicism blind you to the ways they shape the world.

3) The basic civil liberties enshrined in the Bill of Rights are what insure our fullest humanity. They are the only true American values, and whenever the nation strays from them, we live to regret it.

4) Engage in politics long after the election results come in and before any campaign begins. Serve your community however you can. Even being a good and thoughtful parent is a form of political action.

5) Thinking, buying, and living locally not only provides you with the best your community has to offer but also insures you will offer the best you have to your community.

Rye whiskey and elections in America

If you only know a little bit about the early history of the United States, you've likely heard about the role of liquor in elections. In the first years of the republic, politicians of every stripe turned to distilled spirits and cider as tools for turning the votes their way. Polling places sported kegs of whiskey or barrels of cider, with drams ladled out to whomever wanted them. The more alcohol, the merrier. The candidates who offered the most often earned the most votes.

Most who relate this history suggest that by using liquor to blackmail of voters, office seekers corrupted the democratic process. These commentators point out that thankfully, the carefully regulated election venues of our time display no such irregularities.

But consider this, from historian William J. Rorabaugh's classic, The Alcoholic Republic: An American Tradition:

"An office seeker who furnished strong beverages to the voters was expected to drink freely with them, and, by his drinking, to prove the soundness of his democratic principles, that he was independent and egalitarian, indeed truly republican. Many an aspirant for office became inebriated in order to show the voters that he was an autonomous, independent being. At the same time, a candidate's good nature and congeniality in his cups demonstrated his respect for his peers, the voters, and thereby confirmed his egalitarianism. Thus it was that a Pennyslvania tavern crowd stated that one popular contender's election was certain because he could and would 'get drunk with any man.'"

Proving one's republicanism, one's dedication to liberty, through the public consumption of spirits. It's foreign to us. But maybe we need just a little of that tomorrow, as we trudge off to the polls. Like that crowd in Pennsylvania, I'm going to have a shot of rye before I head to my polling place, and I hope that all you patriots do the same. Turn democracy in a bottle--rye--into a force for social and political change.

Classic Rye Cocktails #6: The Ward Eight

Given that we are in the last week of a presidential campaign, it seems like the perfect time to celebrate America's liquor and political history in one fell swoop.

This one's not that old. Yet it's a classic and it must be included. Especially in these months where daylight grows dim and people require extra Vitamin C in their diet.

There are a few fleeting pre-Prohibition references to the Ward Eight (usually suggesting that the drink was invented in Boston in 1898, at a party for Martin Lomansey, who became the political boss of--you guessed it--the city's Eighth Ward, on the city's West End).

While we reject political machines today, they were an accepted fact of urban life in the United States. The most famous machine systems--Tammany Hall in New York City and the Pendergast crew in Kansas City--peaked in the first-half of the twentieth century. The Daley machine in Chicago, of course, held on much longer.

As problematic as they were, the machines proved effective for the common woman and man because despite corruption and cronyism, they got stuff done and helped integrate new immigrant populations into the life of the city. No wonder rye--the liquor of the people--provides the basis for this drink.

Not until the 1910s did most recipe books include a recipe for the drink. It became especially popular during Prohibition. Because it included strong-tasting fruit juices that served as a useful tool for disguising poorly-distilled or home-brew liquor, drinkers in the 1920s often turned to the citrus-heavy cocktail.

Here's an effective (and tasty) modern version of the drink:

2 oz rye whiskey
.5 oz orange juice
.5 oz lemon juice
three dashes of grenadine

Mix ingredients in a shaker. Add ice. Shake, then strain into a glass.

Savor this one. It's the closest you'll ever get to political office.

Real. Political. Change.

As every TV watcher in America knows by now, both major party presidential candidates are promising change. Obama's been running on it since the beginning. His message of change defeated Hilary Clinton (barely), and during the Republican National Convention, McCain's campaign shifted to a message of change (embodied by its Sarah Palin pitch).

To be sure, change is coming, whether we like it or not. Structural problems in the economy and political party realignment (more on that soon) have turned the 2008 election into a bellwether. The old Great Society/New Deal liberalism is on its way out, as is the cultural warring of the long-dominant New Right coalition (libertarians, big business, social-issue conservatives).

Yet real change of the sort that could save the country from itself is still as distant as ever.

As the nation works its way into a lather over another nail-biter of an election, it seems like few are talking about election reform. After the debacle in Florida 2000, a few federal laws (most notably the Help America Vote Act of 2002) looked to fix the system. But these reforms did little. Earlier this week, the Washington Post reported that high turnout and new, untested vote counting technologies will cause serious problems across the country in November.

The most stunning revelation of this piece? "Premier Election Solutions, the company that makes many of the nation's voting machines, last month acknowledged that software used in 34 states, including Virginia and Maryland, could cause votes to be dropped." (By the way, Premier Election Solutions used to be called Diebold). This is no conspiracy of Republican vote-rigging or Democratic ballot-box stuffing. This is flat-out ineptitude.

The worse thing is that we know its coming, and no one cares--most of all, the major political parties. Presidential election reform is always talked about the day after the election, not the months or even years before it. That's a shame. Because careful attention to election procedures could do more to change the country than any policy passed by Congress.

Real and structural change could come with simple presidential election reforms, reforms that both parties could pursue together for the nation's benefit (and ultimately, even strengthen the health of the two party system in the long term). These are just the most easily imagined:

1) Turn election day into a national holiday.

2) Establish clear federal standards that would override the many differences in state election law, most notably by insisting on paper ballots and scanners and standard voter ID procedures in every precinct. There simply have been too many problems with touch screen voting (and often, no paper receipt). Approximately 13,000 voting districts exist in the United States, all separate and unequal.

3) Eliminate the winner-take-all electoral college, which exists in 48 states. Instead, follow the lead of Maine and Nebraska and make the electoral college proportional (not by congressional district--the way those two states set it up--but instead by number of votes cast) in every state.

4) Introduce universal federal voter registration, regardless of residence. The latter has become a big problem in the Midwest already. Disenfranchisement and complicated registrations should be made a thing of the past. If you are a citizen, you should be able to vote.

5) Get private money out of political campaigns. Provide federal campaign spending funds and make other fundraising illegal. Each major party (defined as 5% of the nation-wide popular vote in the last election or more) gets the same amount of financial support.

A nonpartisan movement, one that both major parties could get behind (it would benefit both equally--no unfair advantage on any side), could push Congress and the president (whomever it might be) to institute these real changes. It would only take a couple of years to write, sign, and enact the legislation.

Presidential campaigns would have to work hard in every state, not just swing states. Corporate influences on both parties would fade. Candidates would spend less time fund raising and more time being asked hard questions by voters. Major parties would face more complicated challenges from smaller parties.

Democracy would reign. Rye whiskey would flow. America could turn its attention to pressing challenges such as the economy, war, and the future.

Ms. Vice President Redux?

As a child of the 1980s (trained in women's history), it's hard not to examine John McCain's decision to pick Alaska Governor Sarah Palin for the Vice Presidential slot in light of Walter Mondale's selection of Geraldine Ferraro as his running mate in 1984.

Some similarities:

1) Ferraro not only made history breaking the glass ceiling of presidential tickets, but also offered Mondale--a straight-talking but bland Minnesotan (cut from Hubert Humphrey's cloth, but without the charisma)--a running mate that excited white ethnics and blue-collar workers. Ronald Reagan made great inroads into that historic cornerstone of the New Deal coalition in his 1980 defeat of Jimmy Carter. Mondale's selection was hailed by many as playing to the base he needed to retain if he was to have any chance to win.

Meantime, Palin plays to a corner of the modern GOP base left cold by John McCain--evangelicals and those with fervent anti-abortion politics. Like Ferarro, who attracted thousands of women volunteers to the Mondale/Ferarro campaign, she might awaken some energy in a group that Democrats have been peeling away from the Republicans since 2006.

2) Like Geraldine Ferraro, Sarah Palin is seen by most pundits as a lightweight. Ferraro had only six years of experience in the U.S. House, where she offered a solidly liberal voting record but little more. Palin's years on the Wasilla, Alaska city council, her stints as mayor of the same, and her two years as Governor of Alaska is all she has to offer voters concerned about experience.

3) Sarah Palin will face viciously sexist attacks, like this one (which suggests that because Ferarro eventually hurt Mondale's campaign, and that Palin is a woman, like Ferarro, Palin will hurt McCain's chances). These attacks will even come--especially come--from those who should know better, including many prominent Democrats. The smarter ones will praise the choice as historic, and then attack her on her lack of experience.

4) McCain's campaign will get an initial bounce in the polls--just as Mondale's campaign did. The short-term attention from the press, however, will not last as long as it did in 1984 (though the coming GOP convention helps). Back in that pre-cable news world, news cycles could go on for days, rather than hours.

5) Choosing a little-known woman with limited experience made a conventional presidential candidate like Mondale look unconventional. And as McCain desperately tries to resurrect the maverick reputation he gave up in the mid-2000s to ingratiate himself with Republican leaders, this choice burnishes his independent streak.

6) As in 1984, there were other, more qualified, and better known women in the party. Ferarro was not the choice many would have made--San Fransciso's mayor Dianne Feinstein (now a U.S. Senator from California) and Kentucky governor Martha Layne Collins were also on his short list. As for McCain--former New Jersey governor and EPA head Christine Todd Whitman could have given him experience AND change, though she's estranged from Bush's GOP. Another choice might have been Kay Bailey Hutchinson, who was mentioned early on as a potential running mate for McCain. Elizabeth Dole, who tried to run for the GOP nomination in 2000--and then ended up on George W. Bush's short list--is a Senate colleague who could take on Biden in any debate.

Will an emerging scandal bring Palin down, just as inquiries into finances dragged down Ferraro by October 1984? How will she do next week at the Republican convention? What will happen when voters will think about her as one heartbeat from the presidency?

PS: The more things change...the more they stay the same. Mostly-male run campaigns (and political pundits) seem to think that putting a woman on the ticket will attract women with many different kinds of politics, as though women are unable to see past gender when they make decisions as voters. No one ever makes that assumption about men.