containers (I’ve found that large mason jars or nice whiskey bottles
with the cork tops work well) and toss it in the fridge. You could
drink it now, but it will taste like Jim Beam kicked you in the face
with his rugged, old leather boot.
It will behoove you to take a James Ganderpeek every couple of
days and to give your nog a hearty shake to ensure that it hasn’t
become a sentient being. If it is bubbling, smells like the devil’s
butt, or asks you for a ride to the airport, dump it down the drain.
Otherwise let it chill back there for as long as you like. After three
weeks or so, the nog will begin to change. It will have taken on a
pleasant golden color, and will have thickened markedly. It will
notice hair growing in funny places. Most important of all, it will
taste incredible. It’s ready to serve now, or if you’re the patient type
you can continue to age your nog for as long as you cannot drink it.
I’ve heard of people aging theirs for over a year.
But what of the salmonella? The E. coli? Think of the children!
Sam Beattie, a food science professor at Iowa State University,
would like you to cram it with walnuts. He says that the alcohol
concentration required to kill problematic bacteria in a liquid state
is actually quite low. While there haven’t been any studies done on
alcohol in eggs or milk (I told you the science was questionable), the
alcohol content of this recipe is more than double the concentration
that Mr. Beattie spoke of. And furthermore, my digestive tract is
more rickety than a timberwolf at a splintering wood convention,
yet I still live and breathe, so quit worrying and love the nog.
Publisher’s Note: The author would like to acknowledge a Mr.
Thomas Flaherty, as some of his dingy lyrics were the inspiration for the
opening limerick. Tom is a good dude.
Benson First Friday
bensonfirstfriday.com
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