Eggnog. Delightful in theory. Terrifying in practise. Sure those imported images of rosy cheeked carollers, singing under a spangled Christmas tree holding aloft glasses of creamy nutmeg scented eggnog are tantalisingly alluring. It makes you want to start roasting chestnuts by an open fire, even as you ‘fa la la la la’ about decking the halls with boughs of holly. Till you look at the recipe. Raw egg yolks with cream. Ugh? Well, it’s a drink that conjures up Christmas for so many people – perhaps it’s worth taking a closer look.
I blame my boarding school ‘Egg Flips’ for my innate resistance to Eggnog. Imagine a brimming glass of cold milk beaten together with eggs and sugar for breakfast – in 16 degrees Celsius on a foggy Ooty morning. You just shuddered, didn’t you? So you feel my pain.
Fortunately, we’re now worlds away from a stark boarding school kitchen. In an attempt to re-discover the ubiquitous Christmas eggnog, I call on the Taj Coromandel for help. At their Chipstead Bar as I swivel thoughtfully on a stool, a bevy of dapper men in glossy suits stand around me seriously debating the etymology of the drink. (Eggnog etymology? Yeah. That’s how we roll.) One theory – courtesy Time magazine – is that nog comes from ‘noggin,’ meaning wooden cup, or ‘grog,’ a strong beer. Associated with the holiday season since the 1700s, the drink is said to have originated from a 13th century brew made by monks with milk and figs.
Many centuries later, the Taj team debates the recipe. There are a slew of versions. It can be made with brandy, rum or bourbon. Flavoured with cloves, vanilla or nutmeg. Served hot, or cold. A quick look at Pinterest (my most colorful recipe resource) shows that the drink has also triggered a host of related goodies: eggnog flavoured cinnamon rolls, French toast, chai lattes, pancakes, marshmallows. Even fudge.
Bartender and mixologist Arun decides to stick to the classic recipe. He lines up ingredients on the counter in a row: Cognac, nutmeg, eggs, cream, milk and sugar. Breaking two eggs, he begins work, simultaneously explaining the process. “Beat the egg yolks with sugar. Add a spoon of fresh cream, beat till fluffy.” Then he pours in about 30 ml of milk. “Beat again.” The cognac goes in next, filling the bar with its delicious aroma. Finally, he pours the now creamy drink into a glass and grates nutmeg over it. The scent of the nutmeg mingles happily with the other flavors. The result is a rich, heady brew. A world away from the runny school egg flips. And not just because of the fancy cognac.
For conservative cooks, there’s a version in which you can heat the ingredients. (To be honest, I’d choose that route as well – because as smooth as the classic version is, I’m still squeamish about using raw egg yolks.) With this you combine milk, nutmeg, vanilla and sugar over a low heat before adding it to a bowl of egg yolks whisked with sugar. The mixture is then cooked (not boiled), cooled and then gently stirred with cream and brandy.
We sit about reflectively sipping our eggnogs post workshop. In an age of molecular cocktails and new age ingredients, this is undoubtedly an old-fashioned, borderline stodgy drink. But its inexplicable popularity is also oddly reassuring. Clearly, no matter how hip the world is when it comes to chasing trends, when it comes to the holidays, we like to stick with tradition.
