Solstice Cheer
Noel Laflin
I learned the secret to a great solstice punch way back in the summer of 1978. And I've been making it in my kitchen - twice a season - ever since.
The basic ingredients call for apple cider, white grape juice, cinnamon sticks, orange slices, apple slices, allspice and golden raisins - lots and lots of raisins. You just throw all of the above into a large kettle, set the heat on low and let that baby simmer away. If need be you can also throw all of those ingredients into a large coffee maker - you know - the kind that serves fifty cups. Just plug that sucker in and let it perk away.
If it's a tea totaling crowd, you can stop right there and just serve when hot. You'll be the hit of every office and church party from here on out - especially on cold winter days.
But if your intention is to really liven up the crowd, you need to add alcohol - and lot's of it.
A bottle of dark rum along with an equal amount of brandy is good for starters. A dash of Grand Marnier and cognac and even
amaretto have been known to make it into many of my batches. In the old days we used to throw in some kind of forgotten liqueur only obtained in Mexico. It was known to have aphrodisiac qualities. It made for some very interesting parties. The FDA never did allow its import into the United States.
amaretto have been known to make it into many of my batches. In the old days we used to throw in some kind of forgotten liqueur only obtained in Mexico. It was known to have aphrodisiac qualities. It made for some very interesting parties. The FDA never did allow its import into the United States.
Now, in my youth, I would often stuff a large tea ball with marijuana leaves, stems and seeds - letting it dangle in the brew for hours on end. I did not often share this final ingredient with all of
the guests, which frequently included my parents. But my folks,
when present, were always hanging out in the kitchen filling one another's cup with the sacred punch and remarking on its rather addicting taste and mellowing afterglow.
the guests, which frequently included my parents. But my folks,
when present, were always hanging out in the kitchen filling one another's cup with the sacred punch and remarking on its rather addicting taste and mellowing afterglow.
When in his waning years, my father once remarked that he regretted not ever having tried pot. He had always wondered, he lamented aloud, what the fuss was all about. He was in his mid-eighties at the time.
I smiled, turning to my father and said, "Well, let me put your mind to rest about that one, dad."
Cheers and Happy Solstice.
I smiled, turning to my father and said, "Well, let me put your mind to rest about that one, dad."
Cheers and Happy Solstice.
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