Above: Punch Set by William Marrett / High Museum of Art, Atlanta; Purchase with funds from the Decorative Arts Endowment
As the holiday season approaches in Delaware, grocery store shelves fill with cartons of eggnog, and carolers can be heard singing the familiar “Wassail Song.” But how much do we really know about these classic libations that have become synonymous with Christmas cheer? What exactly is ‘nog,’ and what goes into wassail? The history of holiday beverages in the First State is as rich and complex as the drinks themselves, offering a fascinating glimpse into the culinary traditions that have shaped our celebrations for centuries.
Today, eggnog is a beloved holiday staple, but its origins are far from the festive punch bowls we know today. In fact, Delaware cookbooks from before 1800 didn’t even list eggnog under “Beverages.” Instead, as Martha Espedahl noted in a 1979 article in The News Journal, these concoctions were often found under headings like “For the Sick” or in chapters dealing with medicinal remedies.
This curative association persisted well into the 19th century. Nancy Cole Zippe, writing for The News Journal in 2015, observed that if you played a word association game with “eggnog” two hundred years ago, responses might have included “invalid, infirm, doctor’s orders.” She goes on to quote “The Bon-Vivant’s Companion (1862),” which stated: “Egg Nog made in this manner is digestible, and will not cause headache. It makes an excellent drink for debilitated persons, and a nourishing diet for consumptives.”

It’s a far cry from the decadent treat we know today, but it speaks to the perceived nutritional value of the drink’s core ingredients: eggs, milk or cream, and spirits. From colonial times through much of the 19th century, in Delaware and beyond, these rich ingredients were seen as fortifying for the sick and weak, rather than as a holiday luxury. This long-standing palliative reputation gradually gave way to eggnog’s status as a seasonal indulgence, marking a key shift in how we perceive and enjoy this traditional beverage.
Eggnog wasn’t the only Yuletide beverage gracing Delaware’s colonial tables. Martha Espedahl’s 1979 article lists a veritable apothecary of holiday “potions,” including flip, syllabub, and wassail. Each of these drinks has a unique history and preparation method, often rooted in English traditions that the colonists brought with them to the New World.
Nancy Cole Zippe, in her 1976 News Journal article, provides a lively description of flip: “The favorite tavern drink was the flip. There were several different recipes, but all included rum, beer and sweetening, and many added cream. When blended, a fire-hot ‘flip-dog’ was plunged in the tankard to sizzle the flip to a scorched flavor.” The red-hot poker (i.e. flip-dog) created a sizzling, caramelized effect in the drink.

Syllabub, for its part, often has a rather unusual preparation method, referred to as “under the cow.” Richard Briggs, in his 1788 cookbook “Briggs’ Cookery,” instructs: “Put a bottle of either red or white wine, ale or cyder into a china bowl, sweeten it with sugar and grate in some nutmeg, then hold it under the cow and milk into it till it has a fine froth at the top; strew over it a handful of currants, clean, washed, and picked and plumped before the fire.” This direct-from-the-source method certainly gives new meaning to the term “fresh ingredients”!
Nancy Cole Zippe, in her 2015 News Journal article, describes a variation for children: “There was a syllabub for children around 1800 made with new milk. This is naturally frothy, so it avoided the chore of beating. ‘Generously sweeten cider with maple sugar in a clean gallon pail. Set it under a cow and milk the cow into the mixture. Grate some nutmeg on top and drink while foamy.'”
Briggs also notes that in colonial Delaware, as in other British colonies, everything that could be made into wine was. This included an impressive array of ingredients: “cowslips, turnips, balm, currants, cherries, gooseberries, flowers of elder, quinces, damsons, and raspberries, to the sap of birch trees.”

The relationship between eggnog and syllabub is a close one. Anne W. Holberton, writing for the Morning News in 1972, described eggnog as a “second cousin to an English drink called syllabub, popular during the 15th and 16th centuries.” She goes on to explain that “The original version was a spicy combination of wine and creamed milk. The American colonists eliminated the wine and substituted hard liquor for a heartier drink and called it eggnog.”
The origin of the term “syllabub” itself is somewhat murky, with several explanations offering intriguing possibilities. It may be derived from the Old English word “sille,” meaning “happy” or “joyful,” combined with “bub,” meaning a bubbling drink. Alternatively, it could be a corruption of the phrase “slurrup” or “slurribub,” which imitates the sound made when sipping the drink through a straw. These onomatopoeic origins tie into the sensory experience of enjoying the frothy beverage.
Another theory connects “syllabub” to the French phrase “sur le bois,” meaning “on the wood,” which refers to the wooden mugs in which syllabub was traditionally served. This etymology emphasizes the importance of drinking vessels in the history of holiday drinks, highlighting how the containers themselves became part of the naming tradition. Holly Arnold Kinney, in her cookbook “Shinin’ Times at the Fort,” provides further insight into this connection between drinks and their vessels. She explains that “nog” is an old English word for strong beer, while “noggin” was a small wooden cup used in taverns.

While eggnog and syllabub have their roots in English medicinal traditions, wassail stands out for its central role in communal toasting rituals. The term “wassail” is derived from the Old English phrase “waes hael,” meaning “be whole” or “be well,” which was part of an ancient custom during the feasts of New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Traditionally, wassail was a hot mulled cider, ale, or wine, spiced with cinnamon, cloves, and ginger, and often topped with slices of toast. As explained in a 1979 News Journal article, “The master of the English household would drink to the health of those present with a bowl of spiced ale. Each guest in turn, after the host, would pass the bowl along and repeat the Saxon phrase.”
This tradition of collective drinking and well-wishing was an integral part of holiday celebrations in colonial Delaware. Nancy Cole Zippe, writing in the News Journal in 1976, elaborates on the custom’s significance: “Most misunderstandings were resolved around the Wassail Bowl. Each evening, from Christmas Eve through Twelfth Night, the Yule Log was burned and refreshment served. Sprigs of holly were tossed on the fire to burn away the evils of the past year, and drinks toasted good fortune for the future.”
Eggnog is just one of many variations on the eggs-sugar-milk-booze theme that has been popular for centuries. The News Journal’s 2010 article mentions several intriguing variations, including sack posset, coquito (a Puerto Rican tradition), and biersuppe (German for beer soup).

One colorfully named variation of holiday drinks is the “yard of flannel,” a recipe from colonial times also described by Holly Arnold Kinney. This drink combines beer with eggs and other ingredients, relying on ale rather than liquor for its kick. The drink was called a “yard of flannel” due to its silky texture, achieved by gently blending hot ale and other components with beaten eggs to avoid curdling. Kinney paints a vivid picture of its consumption: “Coachmen would drive up to a tavern and call for a ‘yard of flannel,’ the drink served in a long, skinny glass. Handed up to the coachman as he sat on his tall seat, it was a drink that would refresh and ‘warm the cockles of his heart.'”
In a 1981 News Journal article, Broderick Perkins quotes Debbie Ansden, a home economist at the University of Delaware’s Cooperative Extension Service in New Castle County, providing an intriguing tidbit about eggnog’s royal connections. According to Ansden, eggnog was once served only to royalty in Vienna, likely due to its luxurious ingredients, such as eggs, milk, cream, and spices, which associated the drink with wealth and status during a time when such items were reserved for the elite. She also notes that the British version, known then as egg grog, was stronger due to the inclusion of grog—a mixture of water and rum.
While we primarily think of eggnog as a beverage today, it has a history of culinary versatility. Anne W. Holberton, in her 1972 Morning News article, reminds us that “eggnog is not just a beverage. It’s a lot more. This drink is a natural for sauces. In fact, eggnog can be used as a sauce all by itself. Heat it and then pour over a holiday steamed pudding. Thicken it and serve over peaches or apricots. The eggnog flavor blends in well with many, many foods.”

The evolution of eggnog and its related drinks is a fascinating study in culinary history. Holberton describes sack-posset as eggnog’s “oldest ancestor,” defining it as “a hot festive drink made with milk, eggs, nutmeg and sherry.” Nancy Cole Zippe, in her 2015 News Journal article, echoes this lineage, describing eggnog as “an offspring of English sack posset, a hot drink made with ale or with a dry Spanish wine called sack.”
In her 1976 article, she elaborates: “An imported dry wine called sack was the basic ingredient of sack-posset, a festive drink for special occasions, made with eggs, sugar and curdled milk.” However, Broderick Perkins adds an interesting note of variation, pointing out that sometimes, “posset had no eggs at all.” This range of recipes demonstrates the fluid nature of these traditional drinks, with ingredients and preparations changing over time and place.
To understand the prevalence and importance of these holiday beverages in colonial Delaware, it’s crucial to consider the broader drinking culture of the time. A fascinating article from the Wilmington Daily Commercial in 1872 provides a window into this world: “At the fêtes held in the last century we have accounts of the guests, one and all drinking health, by the ‘hot hour,’ out of huge silver tankards filled from a cistern of sack posset standing in the hall.”

The article goes on to describe a culture where a man’s worth was often measured by his drinking capacity. Men were referred to as “two-bottle men” or “three-bottle men” based on how much they could consume. Glasses were even designed to force drinkers to empty them in one go, as they couldn’t be set down without spilling.
This culture of heavy drinking extended to the highest levels of society. The article notes that “Queen Elizabeth drank ale, beer and wine for her breakfast.” It was not uncommon for dinner guests to end up passed out under the table or to arrive home so intoxicated that they had to be lifted off their horses.
However, it’s important to note that attitudes were changing by the 19th century. The article points out that such behavior was no longer considered acceptable by the 1870s, marking a shift in societal norms around alcohol consumption.
Nancy Cole Zippe, in her 1976 News Journal article, provides further context for this drinking culture: “Drinking has traditionally been linked to both New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Friends and neighbors visited together in homes and taverns. It was a matter of politeness to drink a toast proposed at a social gathering (even to the Puritans, including the clergy.)”

The sheer volume of alcohol consumed during these celebrations is astonishing to modern sensibilities. As Clifford Lindsey Alderman notes in “Early American Life,” “Drinkers of punch consumed such staggering amounts of it that it seems a wonder they were able to get to the dinner table.”
When we raise our glasses this holiday season in Delaware, we’re not just enjoying a tasty treat—we’re participating in a centuries-old tradition that connects us to our colonial past. From cure-all tonics to royal extravagances, the history of holiday beverages is as diverse and colorful as the drinks themselves.
So, the next time you sip on a creamy eggnog or join in a rousing chorus of “Wassail,” remember the long and spirited history behind these festive libations. By doing so, you’re not just celebrating the holidays—you’re keeping alive a cherished part of Delaware’s cultural heritage. Cheers to that!
The glass with side handles looks very much like mercury glass; if so, that would probably add another chemical to the mix, possibly deadly. If it isn’t mercury glass, I suppose the only concern is your body’s reaction to the concoction going into it.
I buy Eggnog from the grocery store, however, I do make Wassail. The way I make Wassail might seem dull to some, but I get 1/2 gallon or gallon glass jugs of apple cider at Capitol Market (Capitol because it’s in Charleston, West Virginia, the capitol city); most or all their products are grown/made in West Virginia. I pour the cider into a fairly deep pan, adding my preferred cinnamon sticks, nutmeg, and cloves; allow it to simmer until I’m pleased with the aroma; I spoon out the cinnamon sticks and cloves; you can avoid this step by putting those ingredients into a cheesecloth, tied with a string. Some family members or visitors like a cinnamon stick placed in their glass, cup, or mug, reusing it with a second or third serving.
No alcohol.