Cocktails & hors d'oeuvres

When the end of Prohibition was in sight, furturists pondered what "new" drinking establishments would be like. Men-only saloons went the way of the horse and buggy. Hush-hush speakeasies were no longer needed. What would the future bring? Plenty of change. Most notably: respectable men and women drinking together in public. Good bye free lunch. Hello bar menus. How much did drinks cost?

[1933]

"First the old-fashioned saloon, then the newfangled speakeasy, then what? This is the question which bobs up these days like the ghost of Banquo at Macbeth's feast to trouble both the moderates and the wringing wets. If it is beer alone which is being discussed, the discussion as to whether to sell it in barrels or battles in hotels and restaurant or over the counter like ice cream soda is as important as its alcoholic content. When the total repeal of prohibition comes up the question becomes even more complicated. The only point on which almost all the advocates of beer and light wines and some of the advocates of cups which inebriate as well as cheer seem agreed is that the saloons shall not return. To make this statement is a little like saying that the Victorian red plush sofa or the horse and buggy shall not return, for, whatever the laws of the land may be, the saloon, as America once knew it, is an out of date as those two ounce cherished institutions. two-thirds of Congress and three-fourths of the States may conceivably join to legalize hard drinking. ..The saloon brought about prohibition, but the process cannot be worked backward--the repeal of prohibition cannot bring back the saloon...The things that killed the saloon were those that made it picturesque. Its allurement and its wickedness were those of a vanished day when, for hundreds of thousands of men, drinking was almost the only cheap and regular entertainment available during the hours of more or less elegant leisure. This being true, it is now possible to regard the saloon as a historical episode and not as a live issue and to approach it--figuratively speaking--with the philosophical detachment of one contemplating a social trend which has curled up and died. There are...many misconceptions about it. it has had its better enemies and some who have seen it both good and evil. It was infinitely better than the vile speakeasies which sell 'smoke' in the poorest sections of New York; it was no worse than the beer houses which now clutter floors in mid-manhattan; and it was worse in some ways than the quieter speakeasies so largely patronized by men and women who want good food with cocktails or wine...Whether for better or worse, it was unique in its masculinity...'The best patron of a saloon is the man with the biggest thirst'...Patrons of the saloons did get drunk. The worse the saloon, the more drunks. But, as social workers and clergymen have admitted, inebriation was not the saloon's only product. Frequently the saloon served the best food in the neighborhood, including food for the mind as well as the body. It was of the home of a local debating society...Through saloons men kept track of one another, particularly in factory or mill districts; the bartender was a purveyor of news as well as of refreshment..Very different are the speakeasies which have taken the place of the workingman's saloon--dispensaries in the rear of buildings where dinks may be had for 10 cents and up. There was a time when 15 cents would buy a drink of good whisky; the same amount now buys only 'smoke,' a concoction able to produce an intoxication that is a complete physical and nervous collapse...'Smoke' places cater to the down-and-out; they are seldom frequented by men who work. Workingmen with jobs and able to afford anything alcoholic usually make it a home. The cheap speakeasy as a Hogarthian degradation. The old Bowery knew something just as low, but there such saloons were segregated by custom and the gregariousness of the 'bum.' Now the vicious, illegal drinking place has spread over the poorer sections of the city. The war and prohibition brought about radical changes in the drinking habits of Americans, principally because of the participation of women. The cocktail hour was more or less recognized during the war was no longer an exclusively masculine privilege..the speakeasy was at first largely a place for men, with indifferent attention to food and no attempt to cultivate an 'atmosphere.' It was some time before the speakeasy lost the air of surreptitious wickedness and became a normal part of the life in Eastern cities. And in its evolution it was affected tremendously by the insistence of men on sharing it with women--or perhaps it was the other way around. The old custom of standing at the bar and downing glasses of beer or highballs gave way to sitting in a quiet and curtained dining room and consuming hard liquor at leisure. Speakeasies to a large extent have followed a natural development determined by feminine emancipation. If prohibition had not arrived it is certain nevertheless that there would have been much more public drinking by women than there was in the '90s; prohibition added the zest of the forbidden and so hastened the sharing by women of what had been man's exclusive privilege in this country. There are many restaurants what come under the designation of speakeasies because the serve liquor, which are as quite and dignified as any old-time chop house. As a matter of fact, speakeasies are seldom riotous places--the feminine influence is too strong. Their proprietor have learned that by serving good food as well as liquor they can keep a clientele indefinitely...They have their greatest patronage in the evening, drawing from the middle class, whose men would seldom have frequented the saloon at night. The speakeasy's place has become so firmly fixed, at least in New York life, that probably beer alone could not dislodge it. There are as many kinds of speakeasies as there were saloons, but they types of men who frequent them are more restricted. At the bar of the average saloon men of every class rubbed shoulders, but such bars were no more like those of the average modern speakeasy than they were like the bar of Sherry's, quite to the point of exclusiveness. The present home of liquid refreshment may be a baronial-appearing house off Fifth Avenue or a dive near the waterfront--both are speakeasies. One is more expensive than the other and does not poison its patrons; both are equally illegal, and the difference between the people who go to them is the difference between the extremes of society...At noon and from the hour before dinner until late at night these places are often filled with men and women, and the number of women who go together without feeling the need for masculine escort is astonishingly large. Such places have become the playgrounds of a certain type of New Yorker; they are frequently garish in decoration, completely dominated by woman's influence...For a large group of moderate drinkers who used to drop into saloons occasionally, but who now cannot afford to patronize speakeasies and do not care to corrode their interiors with 'smoke,' there is a fascinating occupation of making beer, wine or other liquor at home. At the worst, unless something blows up, this helps to keep the family together. But both the speakeasy and home brewing are doomed if repeal brings with it the sale of alcoholic drinks at a price the average man can afford. So we come to the 'then what?' phrase of our discussion. Whatever it is that takes the place of the legalized drinking places of old, it is certain that it will have competition that the saloon did not have. Life is not so monotonous as it was--at least there are more kinds of monotony. Since prohibition began, in 1919, attendance at motion picture theatres has about tripled--the motion picture now occupies two hours or more of the average person's time each week. In 1919 radio broadcasts did not exist--now there are perhaps 16,000,000 sets, brining into what Victorians would have called the parlor practically everything in the civilized world, from Kings and Presidents to symphony orchestras, jazz bands and 'crooners' that can make an interesting noise...On summer Sundays all who can afford the cheapest second-hand car take to the road...These changes make it certain that no drinking place can ever occupy the place that the old-fashioned saloon did. There is too much competition. But that there is a demand for some form of social drinking is proved by the existence of the speakeasy. Beer which can only be guzzled in the privacy of one's home will not eliminate the speakeasy...The American substitute for the saloon may be a 'beer parlor,' such as may be found in several of the Canadian Provinces...As it is impossible to image the speakeasy continuing indefinitely as an illegal institution, it seems reasonable to expect that, in New York, at least, the drinking place of the future will serve strong drink as well as beer and light wines. But it will not be, in the old meaning of the word, a saloon. Probably, like most present-day speakeasies, it will be a restaurant. The art of cooking may be revived, since with profits from the sale of drinks restaurant proprietors can afford to lose or break even on the sale of food alone. But mainly the difference between the new saloon and the old will like in the refining and restraining., if also intriguing, presence of women in most drinking places. Once man was able to take the jungle when he became temporarily tired of the distaff side of his family. Later he took to the saloon. Prohibition destroyed that last refuge; repeal will not restore it. The drinking place of the future will be co-educational."

---"From Saloon to Speakeasy--and Now? The Change in the Social Picture Makes Us Wonder About Our Future Drinking Places," Russell Owen, New York Times, January 22, 1933 (p. SM6)

Prohibition ended December 5, 1933. Almost immediately, newspapers, magazines and cookbooks generously poured recipes for perfect cocktail parties.

[1934]

"In the pre-war days the cocktail was a pre-dinner drink, now it precedes almost everything; sometimes it just appears from out of the nowhere and with no excuse." (p. 45)..."A cocktail is an American invention and not one to be particularly proud of, for strangely enough, a cocktail to be good, must be so cold it can hardly be tasted. However, a cocktail is a social drink and it has increased in popularity a hundredfold since Prohibition made it 'smart.' A modern cocktail is a fruit juice with synthetic gin or raw apple brandy; it is made every way in every place and is drunk before, after and between meals. Probably the original cocktail was what is now called an 'old fashioned' one; next came the 'Manhattan' then the ''Martini' followed by a 'Bronx,' and from then on, most anything. These formulae are presented for their historic value only or in case the age of reason returns."

---The Gun Club Cook Book, or a Culinary Code for Appreciative Epicures, Charles Browne, revised edition [Charles Scriber's Sons:New York] 1934 (p. 262-263)

[NOTES: (1) The Gun Club was located in Princeton, NJ. (2) The title page of this book credits Mr. Browne as 'Sometimes Mayor of Princeton; one time Member of Congress; A.M., M.D., and some other things, but primarily interested in cookery."]

"Now that every one may drink with a clear conscience, many hostesses are wondering what to serve with the various beverages. With cocktails before dinner, very dainty canapes should be served. These an be made with caviar decorated and flavored with chopped hard-boiled egg, cooked mushrooms, lemon juice or a little minced onion. Canapes of anchovy paste or other fish pastes are appropriate. Little pearl onions, stuffed olives, or sweet pickles can be served. Toasted crackers with little dabs of Welsh rarebit, served hot, are delicious. If one is entertaining in the afternoon or evening at a so-called 'cocktail party' when highballs are served, the drinks may be accompanied by sandwiches. Thin slices of buttered bread, with a layer of chopped water cress seasoned with a little lemon juice or mayonnaise are rolled up and tied with a green ribbon. Cucumbers marinated in French dressing and flavored with a tiny bit of chopped onion makes an excellent sandwich filling. Another good filling consists of a cup of finely chopped celery with a tablespoon each of chopped apples, nuts, or olives, mixed with mayonnaise. All sandwiches should be daintily prepared. No sweet sandwiches are appropriate...Don't try to entertain you guests. If they are interesting and interested they will entertain themselves. Try to appear as if the entertaining was the easiest thing in the world. You may suffer qualms and trepidations about your party , but never let it be known. With respect to the drinks, Americans are becoming more and more European in their attitude toward highballs. They should be mixed to taste well, and to be enjoyed...using the best materials you can afford...you need have no qualms."

---"Capital Kitchen," Susan Mills, Washington Post, March 9, 1934 (p.. 12)

[1935]

"One of the odd developments of our thirteen-year 'drought' was the increasing popularity of the cocktail habit: the mixing of this potent drink was always a favorite topic of converstaion. Today, with foreign lands andour own distilleries contributing more and more varieties of liquors to its concocting, the mixing of cocktails is becoming more of an art than ever before. And the cocktail party, which usually begins late in the afternoon and lasts for a few hours at least, is now and established institution...Tradition traces the cocktail to Mexico. It is said that an Aztec chief, on receiving a delectable stimulating drink named it a 'xoctl,' after the maid who brought it to him. And incredible legend this, as the New World had no distilled liquors until the white man brought his firestarter. One might as reasonably attribute the coctail to the lost Atlantis. Washington Irving refers to a colorfu gin drink of the early Dutch setters of New York which had the iridescence of the rear plumage of roosters--hence, some people say, the name 'cocktail.' Another legend is that the cocktail was first offered 'well shaken before taking' at the Wayside Inn at Scarsdale, N.Y. The mixer was Betsy Flanagan. According to this legend also the various hues of the liquors used were responsible for the name. Whatever its origin, the cocktail has been recognized everywhere as an early American work, and its creation has enlisted the highest talent. Nathanie Hawthorne in his novel, 'The Blithesdale Romance' (1852), makes honorable mention of a man as 'being famous for nothing but gin cocktails and commanding a fair salary for that one accomplishment.' An attempt to take from this country the credit of inventing the appetizer has been made in behalf of Engand. It is based on certain passages in the Thackaray novels describing the adventures of one Arthur Pendennis. Harry Foker is advised to take 'some cocktail.' Thackeray's knowledge of the American drink was only literary and he probably never tasted a cocktail until 1852, when he was in the United States on his first lecture tour. An honest mistake may have been made by those who have heard that certain palate-provoking elixers were first compounded at the Pendennis Club, named in honor of the Thackeray hero. That club, however, was not in London, but in Louisville, Ky. and was famed for its mint juleps. Cocktails, however, were drunk in the United States long before the Pendennis was founded, and were enjoyed in New England and New York in various guises. They were served thoroughy iced. The geniuses of the American drinking bar have evolved a thousand cocktails of varied flavors and picturesque names. Albert S. Crockett, historian of the old Waldorf-Astoria, gives the recipes of more than 300 served at that hotel alone. New plays, news events, sports, popular songs, have inspired their titles. The 'cocktail hour' not ony whets the appetite for food, but also satisfies it. One need never leave it hungery. With the many drinks are eaten delicate gastronomic bits--caviar, anchovies, rare cheeses, red salmon roe, crisp crackers and biscuits; constant processions of tempting canapes and hors d'oeuvres passed on trays, in seemingly undiminished numbers. The cocktail hour has qualified as a social institution."

---"Our Cocktails Travel Far: They Influence Habits, Manners, Even Arts," John W. Harrington, New York Times, January 20, 1935 (p. SM17)