Tuesday was Epiphany, the Christian celebration of the day the three wise men (or three guys named Weitzman) arrived at the stable where the Christ child was born. They had missed the birth; only the uncouth shepherds and animals were present for that moment. The Economist ran an entertaining and informative piece on the three wise men last month, “The Rule of Three.”
The mood definitely shifted when the three wise men arrived—magi, kings, astronomers, what have you. They brought gifts—however impractical—for the baby. The liturgical calendar of the church, according to what I’ve read, is a way to mark feast days and celebrations of saints. The liturgical colors in sanctuaries change with the liturgical seasons and, I’ve heard, this helps to change the mood of prayer and worship—obviously Lent is a different mood than Advent, although both involve waiting and (at least for Mary during Advent) some suffering.
Epiphany is red. Growing up in a household where both parents were seminary graduates, during a busy Christmas season it was not uncommon to hear someone say, “It’s going to be Epiphany before I get all this stuff done!” I was an adult, though (and an Episcopalian, having migrated up the ecclesiastical ladder from United Methodist), before I heard the term “epiphanic” used with any regularity. It’s worked its way into my vocabulary mostly because it’s just fun to say. Where once I would have said I had an “insight,” now I triumphantly announce my “epiphanic moments,” as if I had seen a star and traveled miles through the desert. (Now that I think of it, some of those moments have felt like that). Epiphanic sounds more exciting and, after all, isn’t that the way we feel when elucidation, or epiphany, happens to us? Maybe it’s the bilabial stop of the “p” sound and the falling meter or double trochee of the polysyllabic word that makes it fun to say: ep-i-phan-ic.
About a year ago, I had an epiphanic moment when the weather turned cold. It was happy hour time and I was shivering too much to have a Gin and Tonic or Cape Cod. I wanted scotch or a Manhattan, something to warm me up. My mood was different, the house was decorated differently—for the new season, I was wearing boots with long socks (we wear boots year-round in Texas, but I wear tennis footies with them during the summer). As I considered my cocktail choices that evening, I thought, “There should be a Cocktail Calendar for different seasons, just like the church has the Liturgical Calendar.” My epiphanic moment!
Manhattans with OED
Further, and perhaps aligned with New Year’s resolutions (or to recover from holiday over-indulgence), my friend Tim McClure famously practices “Janopause” where he and anyone he can convince to join him take the month off from alcohol. (Likely paving the way for more clearheaded epiphanic moments through most of the season of Epiphany!). This year, National Public Radio had a story with science to back up Tim’s wisdom, “Going Dry: The Benefits of a Month Without Booze.”
I haven’t fleshed out the entire Cocktail Calendar, but here’s the general outline, beginning with the healthy start of Janopause:
January
Janopause – a month without cocktails or alcohol of any kind.
February
Red wine, to ease back into imbibing. Variations may include the debauchery of Mardi Gras perhaps followed by more moderation or abstinence during Lent, but I digress.
March
Green beer of course, for St. Patrick’s Day, or Guinness, or Irish Whiskey
April/May
With the arrival of Spring weather and (in Austin) bluebonnets and wildflowers galore, multiple festivals and nonprofit galas, it’s time for the cooler drinks to celebrate warmer weather: Mimosa, Bellini, Gin and Tonic, Cape Cod, Mojito, Singapore Sling, whatever mirrors your excitement about taking off coats and scarves, wiggling your toes in the new grass, and standing outside without shivering.
June – September
It’s flip flops, tank tops, and “lake season!” Time to turn to frozen margaritas, Pimm’s Cup, cold beer, anything made with Deep Eddy Ruby Red (grapefruit) Vodka out of the freezer. Rum drinks are great – or a rum-infused watermelon on ice in the cooler. I’ve heard it said that drinking rum in the morning doesn’t mean you’re an alcoholic—it means you’re a pirate! Arrr! (That’s Pirate-speak for “I agree,” among other things).
October
Now (in theory) the weather is cooling off. It’s also the beginning of oyster roast season—which means Shoo-Fly Punch, bourbon, and craft beer
November
Wine connoisseurs know this is Beaujolais Nouveau time, duh!
December
Celebration time, champagne, prosecco, egg nog, and festive cocktail mixology – bring out the Luxardo Maraschino Cherries for the Manhattans or have a vintage Kokomo.
This is the first official documentation of the Cocktail Calendar, we’ll call it v 1.0. I welcome suggestions, corrections, etc. for both the name of the “calendar/seasonal demarcation” as well as the content—and links to great recipes!
Cheers! Here’s to more epiphanic moments!
Popping a cork in Bridgehamption, NY – Brut Seduction from Sparkling Pointe vineyard on Long Island’s North Fork.
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