Oh, what a sorry, sad day this was in 1919. A majority of states ratified the 18th Amendment to the US Constitution. You know the one that authorized the prohibition of alcohol. I’m sure authors across the land steeled themselves for perpetual writer’s block. Where would F. Scott Fitzgerald be without his Gin Rickey? Can you imagine William Faulkner abstaining from a Mint Julep or Ernest Hemingway saying “No” to a Mojito?
We can thank the Whiskey Sour for inspiring Dorothy Parker’s lament.
“I wish I could drink like a lady. I can take one or two at the most. Three, and I’m under the table. Four, and I’m under the host.”
Secretly, I wish I could share a drink and a conversation with Dickens, who referenced drinking in his works. In A Christmas Carol, Ebenezer Scrooge, after waking from three ghostly encounters says
“We will discuss your affairs this very afternoon over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob!”
Year after year, I have wondered what a Smoking Bishop was. Thanks to internet search engines, I am enlightened and hold a recipe in my hands. It sounds like the perfect addition to a night of reading beside a roaring fireplace. Cheers to you, dear Ebenezer Scrooge.
Did you write yesterday? Are you writing today?
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer