<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</SPAN></h2>
<h3>CUPS AND CORDIALS</h3>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="stanza"> <span style="margin-left:-9.75em"><b>“Can any mortal mixture<br/>
</b></span> <b><span class="i1">Breathe such divine, enchanting ravishment?”<br/>
</span> </b></div>
<p class="center"><b>————</b></p>
<div class="stanza"> <b><span class="i0">“The evil that men do lives after them.”</span></b><span class="i0"><br/>
</span> </div>
</div>
<blockquote>
<p>Five recipes for claret cup—Balaclava cup—Orgeat—Ascot cup—Stout
and champagne—Shandy-gaff for millionaires—Ale
cup—Cobblers which will stick to the last—Home Ruler—Cherry
brandy—Sloe gin—Home-made, if possible—A new
industry—Apricot brandy—Highland cordial—Bitters—Jumping-powder—Orange
brandy—“Mandragora”—“Sleep
rock thy brain!”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>I suppose there are almost as many recipes for
claret cup as for a cold in the head. And of
the many it is probable that the greater proportion
will produce a cup which will neither cheer
nor inebriate; for the simple reason that nobody,
who was not inebriated already, would be physically
capable of drinking enough of it. Let us
first of all take the late Mr. Donald’s recipe for</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Claret Cup:</p>
<p class="blockquot"> <i>A.</i> 1 bottle claret.<br/>
<span style="margin-left:1em">1 wine-glassful fine pale brandy.<br/>
</span> <span style="margin-left:1em">½ do. chartreuse yellow.<br/>
</span> <span style="margin-left:1em">½ do. curaçoa.<br/>
</span> <span style="margin-left:1em">¼ do. maraschino.<br/>
</span> <span style="margin-left:1em">2 bottles soda or seltzer.<SPAN name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</SPAN><br/>
</span> <span style="margin-left:1em">1 lemon, cut in thin slices.<br/>
</span> <span style="margin-left:1em">A few sprigs of borage; not much.<br/>
</span> <span style="margin-left:1em">Ice and sugar to taste.</span> </p>
<p>Here is a less expensive recipe:</p>
<blockquote>
<p><i>B.</i> Put into a bowl the rind of one lemon pared
very thin, add some sifted sugar, and pour over it a
wine-glassful of sherry; then add a bottle of claret,
more sugar to taste, a sprig of verbena, one bottle of
aerated water, and a grated nutmeg; strain and ice
it well.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Once more let the fact be emphasised that the
better the wine, spirit, etc., the better the cup.</p>
<p>Here is a good cup for Ascot, when the sun
is shining, and you are entertaining the fair sex.</p>
<blockquote>
<p><i>C.</i> Put in a large bowl three bottles of claret (St.
Estephe is the stamp of wine), a wine-glassful (large)
of curaçoa, a pint of dry sherry, half a pint of old
brandy, a large wine-glassful of raspberry syrup, three
oranges and one lemon cut into slices; add a few
sprigs of borage and a little cucumber rind, two
bottles of seltzer water, and three bottles of Stretton
water. Mix well, and sweeten. Let it stand for an<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</SPAN></span> hour, and then strain. Put in a large block of ice, and
a few whole strawberries. Serve in small tumblers.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Another way and a simpler:</p>
<blockquote>
<p><i>D.</i> Pour into a large jug one bottle of claret, add
two wine-glassfuls of sherry, and half a glass of maraschino.
Add a few sliced nectarines, or peaches, and
sugar to taste (about a tablespoonful and a half).
Let it stand till the sugar is dissolved, then put in a
sprig of borage. Just before using add one bottle of
Stretton water, and a large piece of ice.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>My ideal claret cup:</p>
<blockquote>
<p> <i>E.</i> 2 bottles Pontet Canet.<br/>
<span style="margin-left:1em">2 wine-glassfuls old brandy.<br/>
</span> <span style="margin-left:1em">1 wine-glassful curaçoa.<br/>
</span> <span style="margin-left:1em">1 pint bottle sparkling moselle.<br/>
</span> <span style="margin-left:1em">2 bottles aerated water.</span> </p>
</blockquote>
<p>A sprig or two of borage, and a little lemon peel.</p>
<p>Sugar <i>ad lib.</i>: one cup will not require much.</p>
<p>Add the moselle and popwater just before using;
then put in a large block of ice.</p>
<p>Those who have never tried can have no idea
of the zest which a small proportion of moselle
lends to a claret cup.</p>
<p>My earliest recollection of a cup dates from old
cricketing days beneath “Henry’s holy shade,”
on “a match day”—as poor old “Spanky” used
to phrase it; a day on which that prince of
philosophers and confectioners sold his wares for
cash only. Not that he had anything to do
with the compounding of the</p>
<h4><i>Cider Cup</i>.</h4>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</SPAN></span></p>
<blockquote>
<p>Toast a slice of bread and put it at the bottom of
a large jug. Grate over the toast nearly half a small
nutmeg, and a very little ginger. Add a little thin
lemon rind, and six lumps of sugar. Then add two
wine-glasses of sherry, and (if for adults) one of brandy.
(If for boys the brandy in the sherry will suffice.)
Add also the juice of a small lemon, two bottles of
lively water, and (last of all) three pints of cider.
Mix well, pop in a few sprigs of borage, and a block
or two of ice.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Remember once more that the purer the
cider the better will be the cup. There is an
infinity of bad cider in the market. There used
to be a prejudice against the fermented juice of
the apple for all who have gouty tendencies;
but as a “toe-martyr” myself, I can bear testimony
to the harmlessness of the “natural”
Norfolk cider made at Attleborough, in the which
is no touch of Podagra.</p>
<p>For a good</p>
<h4><i>Champagne Cup</i></h4>
<p><i>vide</i> Claret Cup <i>A.</i> Substituting the “sparkling”
for the “ruby,” the ingredients are precisely the
same.</p>
<p>A nice, harmless beverage, suitable for a tennis
party, or to accompany the “light refreshments”
served at a “Cinderella” dance, or at the “breaking-up”
party at a ladies’ school, is</p>
<h4><i>Chablis Cup</i>.</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Dissolve four or five lumps of sugar in a quarter of
a pint of boiling water, and put it into a bowl with
a very thin slice of lemon rind; let it stand for half-an-hour,
then add a bottle of chablis, a sprig of verbena,
a wine-glassful of sherry, and half-a-pint of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</SPAN></span> water. Mix well, and let the mixture stand for
a while, then strain, add a bottle of seltzer water, a
few strawberries or raspberries, and a block of ice.
Serve in small glasses.</p>
</blockquote>
<h4><i>Balaclava Cup.</i></h4>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="stanza"> “Claret to right of ’em,<br/>
<span style="margin-left:1.5em">‘Simpkin’ to left of ’em—<br/>
</span> <span style="margin-left:0.5em">Cup worth a hundred!”</span> </div>
</div>
<blockquote>
<p>Get a large bowl, to represent the Valley—which
only the more rabid abstainer would call the “Valley
of Death.” You will next require a small detachment
of thin lemon rind, about two tablespoonfuls of
sifted sugar, the juice of two lemons, and half a
cucumber, cut into thin slices, with the peel on.
Let all these ingredients skirmish about within the
bowl; then bring up your heavy cavalry in the shape
of two bottles of Château something, and one of the
best champagne you have got. Last of all, unmask
your soda-water battery; two bottles will be sufficient.
Ice, and serve in tumblers.</p>
</blockquote>
<h4><i>Crimean Cup.</i></h4>
<p>This is a very serious affair. So was the war.
The cup, however, leads to more favourable
results, and does not, like the campaign, leave a
bitter taste in the mouth. Here are the ingredients:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>One quart of syrup of orgeat (to make this <i>vide</i> next recipe), one pint and a half of old brandy, half
a pint of maraschino, one pint of old rum, two large
and one small bottles of champagne, three bottles of
Seltzer-water, half-a-pound of sifted sugar, and the
juice of five lemons. Peel the lemons, and put the
thin rind in a mortar, with the sugar. Pound them<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</SPAN></span> well, and scrape the result with a silver spoon into
a large bowl. Squeeze in the juice of the lemons,
add the seltzer water, and stir till the sugar is quite
dissolved. Then add the orgeat, and whip the
mixture well with a whisk, so as to whiten it. Add
the maraschino, rum, and brandy, and strain the whole
into another bowl. Just before the cup is required,
put in the champagne, and stir vigorously with a
punch ladle. The champagne should be well iced,
as no apparent ice is allowable in this mixture.</p>
</blockquote>
<h4><i>Orgeat.</i></h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Blanch and pound three-quarters of a pound of
sweet almonds, and thirty bitter almonds, in one
tablespoonful of water. Stir in by degrees two pints
of water and three pints of milk. Strain the mixture
through a cloth. Dissolve half-a-pound of loaf
sugar in one pint of water. Boil and skim well, and
then mix with the almond water. Add two tablespoonfuls
of orange-flower water, and half-a-pint of
old brandy. Be careful to boil the <i>eaû sucré</i> well, as
this concoction must not be too watery.</p>
</blockquote>
<h4><i>Ascot Cup.</i></h4>
<p>Odds can be laid freely on this; and the host
should stay away from the temptations of the
betting-ring, on purpose to make it. And—parenthetically
be it observed—the man who has
no soul for cup-making should never entertain at
a race meeting. The servants will have other
things to attend to; and even if they have not
it should be remembered that a cup, or punch,
like a salad, should always, if possible, be mixed
by some one who is going to partake of the
same.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</SPAN></span></p>
<blockquote>
<p>Dissolve six ounces of sugar in half-a-pint of
boiling water; add the juice of three lemons, one
pint of old brandy, a wine-glassful of cherry brandy,
a wine-glassful of maraschino, half a wine-glassful of
yellow chartreuse, two bottles of champagne. All
these should be mixed in a large silver bowl. Add
a few sprigs of borage, a few slices of lemon, half-a-dozen
strawberries, half-a-dozen brandied cherries,
and three bottles of seltzer water. Put the bowl,
having first covered it over, into the refrigerator for
one hour, and before serving, put a small iceberg
into the mixture, which should be served in little
tumblers.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>How many people, I wonder, are aware that</p>
<h4><i>Champagne and Guinness’ Stout</i></h4>
<p>make one of the best combinations possible?
You may search the wide wide world for a
cookery book which will give this information;
but the mixture is both grateful and strengthening,
and is, moreover, far to be preferred to what
is known as</p>
<h4><i>Rich Man’s Shandy Gaff</i>,</h4>
<p>which is a mixture of champagne and ale. The
old Irishman said that the “blackgyard” should
never be placed atop of the “gintleman,” intending
to convey the advice that ale should not
be placed on the top of champagne. But the
“black draught” indicated just above is well
worth attention. It should be drunk out of a
pewter tankard, and is specially recommended
as a between-the-acts refresher for the amateur
actor.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</SPAN></span></p>
<h4><i>Ale Cup.</i></h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Squeeze the juice of a lemon into a round of hot
toast; lay on it a thin piece of the rind, a tablespoonful
of pounded sugar, a little grated nutmeg,
and a sprig of balm. Pour over these one glass of
brandy, two glasses of sherry, and three pints of mild
ale. Do not allow the balm to remain in the
mixture many minutes.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>One of the daintiest of beverages is a</p>
<h4><i>Moselle Cup</i>.</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Ingredients: One bottle of moselle. One glass
of brandy. Four or five thin slices of pine-apple.
The peel of half a lemon, cut very thin. Ice; and
sugar <i>ad lib</i>. Just before using add one bottle of
sparkling water.</p>
</blockquote>
<h4><i>Sherry Cobbler</i></h4>
<blockquote>
<p>although a popular drink in America, is but little
known on this side of the Atlantic. Place in a soda-water
tumbler two wine-glassfuls of sherry, one tablespoonful
of sifted sugar, and two or three slices of
orange. Fill the tumbler with crushed ice, and shake
well. Drink through straws.</p>
</blockquote>
<h4><i>Champagne Cobbler.</i></h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Put into a large tumbler one tablespoonful of
sifted sugar, with a thin paring of lemon and orange
peel; fill the tumbler one-third full of crushed ice,
and the remainder with champagne. Shake, and
ornament with a slice of lemon, and a strawberry or
two. Drink through straws.</p>
</blockquote>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</SPAN></span></p>
<h4><i>Home Ruler.</i></h4>
<blockquote>
<p>This was a favourite drink at the bars of the
House of Commons, during the reign of the
Uncrowned King. It was concocted of the yolks of
two raw eggs, well beaten, a little sugar added, then
a tumbler of hot milk taken gradually into the
mixture, and last of all a large wine-glassful of “J.J.”
whisky.</p>
</blockquote>
<h4><i>Cordials.</i></h4>
<p>In treating of cordials, it is most advisable that
they be <i>home made</i>. The bulk of the cherry
brandy, ginger brandy, etc., which is sold over
the counter is made with inferior brandy; and
frequently the operation of blending the virtue of
the fruit with the spirit has been hurried.</p>
<p>We will commence with the discussion of the
favourite cordial of all,</p>
<h4><i>Cherry Brandy</i>.</h4>
<blockquote>
<p>This can either be made from Black Gean
cherries, or Morellas, but the latter are better for
the purpose. Every pound of cherries will require
one quarter of a pound of white sugar, and one pint
of the best brandy. The cherries, with the sugar
well mixed with them, should be placed in wide-mouthed
bottles, filled up with brandy; and if the
fruit be previously pricked, the mixture will be
ready in a month. But a better blend is procured
if the cherries are untouched, and this principle holds
good with all fruit treated in this way, and left
corked for at least three months.</p>
</blockquote>
<h4><i>Sloe Gin.</i></h4>
<p>For years the sloe, which is the fruit of the
black-thorn, was used in England for no other<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</SPAN></span> purpose than the manufacture of British Port.
But at this end of the nineteenth century, the
public have been, and are, taking kindly to the
cordial, which for a long time had been despised
as an “auld wife’s drink.” As a matter of fact,
it is just as tasty, and almost as luscious as cherry
brandy. But since sloe gin became fashionable,
it has become almost impossible for dwellers
within twenty or thirty miles of London to make
the cordial at home. For sloes fetch something
like sixpence or sevenpence a pound in the market;
and in consequence the hedgerows are “raided”
by the (otherwise) unemployed, the fruit being
usually picked before the proper time, <i>i.e.</i> when
the frost has been on it. The manufacture of sloe
gin is as simple as that of cherry brandy.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>All that is necessary to be done is to allow 1
lb. of sugar (white) to 1 lb. of sloes. Half fill
a bottle—which need not necessarily be a wide-mouthed
one—with sugared fruit, and “top up”
with gin. If the sloes have been pricked, the liquor
will be ready for use in two or three months; but <i>do not hurry it</i>.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>In a year’s time the gin will have eaten all the
goodness out of the unpricked fruit, and it is in
this gradual blending that the secret (as before
observed) of making these cordials lies. As a
rule, if you call for sloe gin at a licensed house of
entertainment, you will get a ruby-coloured
liquid, tasting principally of gin—and not good
gin “at that.” This is because the making has
been hurried. Properly matured sloe gin should
be the colour of full-bodied port wine.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</SPAN></span></p>
<h4><i>Apricot Brandy.</i></h4>
<blockquote>
<p>This is a cordial which is but seldom met with
in this country. To every pound of fruit (which
should not be quite ripe) allow one pound of
loaf sugar. Put the apricots into a preserving-pan,
with sufficient water to cover them. Let them
boil up, and then simmer gently until tender.
Remove the skins. Clarify and boil the sugar, then
pour it over the fruit. Let it remain twenty-four
hours. Then put the apricots into wide-mouthed
bottles, and fill them up with syrup and brandy,
half and half. Cork them tightly, with the tops of
corks sealed. This apricot brandy should be prepared
in the month of July, and kept twelve months
before using.</p>
</blockquote>
<h4><i>Highland Cordial.</i></h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Here is another rare old recipe. Ingredients,
one pint of white currants, stripped of their stalks,
the thin rind of a lemon, one teaspoonful of essence
of ginger, and one bottle of old Scotch whisky.
Let the mixture stand for forty-eight hours, and
then strain through a hair sieve. Add one pound of
loaf sugar, which will take at least a day to thoroughly
dissolve. Then bottle off, and cork well. It will
be ready for use in three months, but will keep
longer.</p>
</blockquote>
<h4><i>Bitters.</i></h4>
<blockquote>
<p>One ounce of Seville orange-peel, half an ounce
of gentian root, a quarter of an ounce of cardamoms.
Husk the cardamoms, and crush them with the
gentian root. Put them in a wide-mouthed bottle,
and cover with brandy or whisky. Let the mixture
remain for twelve days, then strain, and bottle off
for use, after adding one ounce of lavender drops.</p>
</blockquote>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</SPAN></span></p>
<h4><i>Ginger Brandy.</i></h4>
<blockquote>
<p>Bruise slightly two pounds of black currants,
and mix them with one ounce and a half of ground
ginger. Pour over them one bottle and a half of
best brandy, and let the mixture stand for two days.
Strain off the liquid, and add one pound of loaf sugar
which has been boiled to a syrup in a little water.
Bottle and cork closely.</p>
</blockquote>
<h4>“<i>Jumping Powder</i>”</h4>
<p>comes in very handy, on a raw morning, after
you have ridden a dozen miles or so to a
lawn meet. “No breakfast, thanks, just a wee
nip, that’s all.” And the ever ready butler hands
round the tray. If you are wise, you will declare
on</p>
<h4><i>Orange Brandy</i></h4>
<p>which, as a rule, is well worth sampling, in a
house important enough to entertain hunting
men. And orange brandy “goes” much better
than any other liqueur, or cordial, before noon.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>It should be made in the month of March.
Take the thin rinds of six Seville oranges, and put
them into a stone jar, with half-a-pint of the strained
juice, and two quarts of good old brandy. Let it
remain three days, then add one pound and a quarter
of loaf sugar—broken, not pounded—and stir till
the sugar is dissolved. Let the liquor stand a day,
strain it through paper till quite clear, pour into
bottles, and cork tightly. The longer it is kept the
better.</p>
</blockquote>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</SPAN></span></p>
<h4><i>Mandragora.</i></h4>
<p>“Can’t sleep.” Eh? What! not after a dry
chapter on liquids? Drink this, and you will
not require any rocking.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Simmer half-a-pint of old ale, and just as it is
about to boil pour it into a tumbler, grate a little
nutmeg over it, and add a teaspoonful of moist
sugar, and two tablespoonfuls of brandy. Good
night, Hamlet!</p>
</blockquote>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />