Christmas in January

Or: whenever the glögg hits you

A 1/2 gallon of glögg. And, no, those are not worms at the bottom of the jar.

I am not a big fan of Christmas, but I am very partial to Christmastime beverages: eggnog, Tom & Jerrys, hot buttered rum. Anything boozy and dairy-rich will help me get through a long winter’s night.

And I can wassail with the best of ‘em, whoever ‘em are.

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My current heart/gut-warming holiday drink is glögg, which is also the most pleasing to say of all the cold weather refreshments. I made a gallon of it for Christmas day, kept warm in an ancient Crockpot on my friends’ kitchen counter just to the right of the microwave, where it would be close enough for guests to get a spicy whiff, but far enough from the mashing of potatoes and checking on dinner rolls to not be in the way. Nearly all of it was drunk in the first hour or so, which means it was either one of the surprise hits of the evening or that everyone present cared enough about me to feign enjoyment in order to spare my feelings, which is mostly what the holiday is about anyway.

All gone.