Colonial Americans, as my colleague Emma Green points out, drank far than modern ones do. Much of that, however, was in the form of “small beer”—a diluted, fermented slurry of grains and water that was consumed at breakfast and lunch, including by children and servants on the job. Often brewed from the “second runnings” of grains first used to make a higher-quality beer, small beer had a much lower alcohol percentage than so-called “strong beer.” Before water filtration was commonplace, small beer guarded against cholera and other infections because it was mashed and fermented.

It’s something to consider this Fourth of July, a day for outdoor festivities, copious drinking, and honoring enlightenment-era American values. Guzzling low- and no-alcohol fermented beverages might be the perfect way to avoid the common frustration of being uncomfortably drunk and still standing in the afternoon sun. I, personally, have an extra reason to be temperate on Independence Day: My birthday is the day after, and kicking it off folded up on the couch with a throbbing headache is not particularly celebratory.

Besides, weak drinks are patriotic, stamped with the approval of our founding fathers. George Washington’s favorite small beer recipe called for “a large Sifter full of Bran Hops,” boiled for three hours, then strained. Then he combined it with molasses and let the whole mess stand “til it is little more than Blood warm.” Thomas Jefferson’s wife, Martha, made a 15-gallon batch of small beer every two weeks. The couple learned how to make it from the British.

Kumis (A.Savin)

* * *

Most other countries have their own distinctive take on the fermented, low-alcohol refreshment. Regardless of nationality, our ancestors all day-drank with abandon—they just did it with very weak sauce.

Central Asians have kumis, which is made with mare’s milk. The 13th-century voyager William of Rubruck described it positively, writing, “when a man has finished drinking, it leaves a taste of milk of almonds on the tongue.” Though the pungent kumis “makes the inner man most joyful,” Rubruck wrote, its very slight alcohol content “also intoxicates weak heads.” Swedes have long made svagdricka, a 2.25-percent brew that literally translates to “weak drink.”

Russia, Ukraine, and other former-Soviet countries have for centuries drank kvass, a light-brown substance made by fermenting rye bread. Unlike many other Russian drinks, it’s considered nonalcoholic because it contains less than one percent alcohol by volume. It tastes a little like flat, unsweetened root beer that’s been marinating for a while in a metal barrel on wheels—which is, coincidentally, is how it was vended in Soviet times. Mainly the flavor is one of overwhelming sourness.

That’s how it should be, as Russian writer Alexander Genis told NPR: "The sour is the taste of Russia—everything is supposed to be sour for Russian taste.”