But the more scholarly challenge Davis faces is making a case for Jewish exceptionalism when it comes to the temperance movement and America’s response to it. She prudently avoids conclusive findings, gingerly pointing out that while Jews generally opposed Prohibition, class, cultural and denominational divides reflected a profound ambivalence.

Jews usually defended their exemption for sacramental wine, but so did Roman Catholics (although she aptly notes that Catholics consumed their wine in church, while Jews were allowed to drink at home, leaving a lot more latitude for bootleggers). Anti-Semites like Henry Ford blamed Jewish distillers for poisoning the flower of American youth, but, Davis writes, “the populist movement cannot conclusively be described as either indifferent or hostile toward Jews.” Similarly, “while many regarded Jewish bootlegging as proof that Jews were incapable of conforming to American values,” she adds that “one might instead regard it as evidence of Jewish acculturation, since the flouting of Prohibition law was practically a national pastime.”

We do learn that there were disproportionately large numbers of Jewish saloon­keepers in many cities, particularly in immigrant and black neighborhoods (and that their occupation was rooted in Eastern Europe, where it also provoked divisions). But when it comes to comparing customers, is it fair, or accurate, to equate German immigrant saloongoers with Jewish cafe habitués? The temperance movement held Jews up as models of moderation at the same time that Jews (and German immigrants, among others) viewed Prohibition as a potential infringement on their religious and civil liberties in a nonsectarian state.

That reflection is not accompanied by even a morsel of free lunch, like the comedian Jackie Mason’s suggestion that Jews don’t drink because it would put them at a disadvantage against their enemies. (Pointing out how easy it is to differentiate between Jews and gentiles, he said: “After the show, all the gentiles are saying: ‘Have a drink? Want a drink? Let’s have a drink!’ While all the Jews are saying: ‘Have you eaten yet? Want a piece of cake? Let’s have some cake!’ ”)

Nor do we learn the answer to a tantalizing potential clue to Jewish identity raised by Philip Roth in “Goodbye, Columbus.” “Jews and Booze” mentions the Miss Rheingold beauty contest, which in the mid-20th century attracted more than a third as many votes as had the most recent presidential election. In Roth’s novel, Uncle Leo sarcastically tells his wife that he’ll stay in bars “till a Jewish girl is Miss Rheingold” — notwithstanding the fact that the Rheingold brewery, in Brooklyn, was originally owned by Jews. Was there ever a Jewish Miss Rhein­gold? “Jews and Booze” reveals neither the question nor the answer.