Fish House Punch

A riparian sceneI’ve just sloshed together a batch of Fish House Punch in preparation for a friend’s party tomorrow evening — it’s the first recipe I’ve made that has occasioned the use of a 3-gallon carboy as a shaker. This most venerable of American flowing bowls is held to have been first concocted in 1732 at Philadelphia’s fishing club, The Colony in Schuylkill* … there are variations to the recipe depending on what source you consult, but they’re mostly pretty minor. In the main, it seems that Fish House Punch is so revered that most know better than to tinker with its sacred formula. Sadly, in using a peach schnapps I depart from the norm — strictly speaking, peach brandy is called for — but unfortunately the State of Oregon doesn’t see fit to sell any peach brandies that aren’t wholly artificially flavored. I hope the founding grandfathers will forgive a transgression in the interest of verity over verisimilitude.

25 oz. Jamaican rum
25 oz. gold rum
25 oz. cognac
24 oz. lemon juice
8 oz. peach schnapps
1 2/3 cups sugar
3 1/2 pints water

mix sugar, water and lemon juice until dissolved, add liquor, stir well and allow to stand for several hours before serving, poured over a large block of ice.

Though the requisite several hours of flavor-blending has yet to pass, I couldn’t resist a sample or two. It’s good. It’s strong. It’s the kind of punch that can get you into trouble. It’s terribly, deceptively delicious. Several apocryphal stories attribute gaps in George Washington’s journals to overindulgence in Fish House Punch… I wonder if there are places claiming that “Washington Slepte It Offe Here.”

*In 1732 the club was known as “The Colony in Schuylkill,” but it changed its name to “The State in Schuylkill” in 1783, in keeping with events of the day. Also known as The Schuylkill Fishing Company, it was a quirky sporting gentleman’s affair, claiming sovereignty unto itself. Each of its 25 members had a faux governmental title and whatnot… I believe the club continues to this day, though so far I can only find evidence up through 1981.

Planter’s Punch

It’s been hot on the grounds of the Slakethirst estate — conditions which turn the palate towards that old devil rum. Adam Thornton recently suggested Planter’s Punch, and while I happened to have neither pineapple juice nor a copy of DeGroff (required to make one a la Thornton), there are other ways and means, and it seemed a very good idea, as it’s been a while.

3 oz. dark rum
3/4 oz. grenadine
juice of a small lime
juice of 1/2 lemon
3 dashes Fee’s Aromatic bitters

Stir with crushed ice and strain into a collins glass 2/3 full of same

The recipe above is Vic Bergeron’s, from his 1947 Trader Vic’s Bartender’s Guide. It has been slightly modified for convenience (more grenadine, no bar sugar) and personal preference (no bitters in Vic’s), but I don’t think it loses much in translation. Mix it right and you’ll know it, because you will have been transported. Portland lost its Trader Vic’s years ago, but Vic’s Planter’s Punch recipe brings it back in all its dimly-lit, scorpion bowl slurping splendor. This isn’t mere literary license, either: I really did experience something on the order of a multisensory flashback. It’s a damn fine drink!

A wide variety of juices and ratios may appear under this name — and perhaps validly so … I’ll pick up some pineapple to see what Thornton’s on about — but there’s something very special about this one. Maybe it’s the menehunes.

Pineapple Julep

(For a Party of 6—Use a small punch bowl)

1 quart of Sparkling Moselle.
1 jigger Cusenier Grenadine.
1 jigger Maraschino.
1 jigger Sir Robert Burnette’s Old Tom Gin.
1 jigger Lemon Juice.
1 jigger Orange Bitters.
1 jigger Angostura Bitters.
4 Oranges, sliced.
2 Lemons, sliced.
1 ripe Pineapple, sliced and quartered.
4 tablespoonfuls Sugar.
1 bottle Apollinaris Water.

Place large square of Ice in bowl; dress with the Fruits and serve Julep in fancy Stem glass.

Claret Cup

(2-Gallon Mixture)

For mixing use a large Punch bowl or other suitable vessel of glass or porcelain lined.

6 Oranges, sliced.
3 Lemons, sliced.
2 Pineapples.
2 jiggers Abricontine.
4 jiggers Curacoa.
4 quarts Claret.
3 pints Apollinaris.

Mix well with a Ladle and set aside for three hours before using. Then strain info another bowl, and when ready to use add 3 pints of some sparkling Wine, preferably Champagne. Stir gently once or twice, and then put in a block of clear Ice and decorate the top of it tastily with Fruits and let several slices of Grape Fruit float around in the bowl. Serve in Champagne glasses.