As anyone who's looked at my flair(s) can attest, I don't really have one single era because I'm like a historical hummingbird, flying from flower to flower. So I'll talk about an interesting tradition belonging to the native peoples of Paraguay and Northern Argentina, the guaraní or guaraníes.

Last Saturday was Pachamama day, the day dedicated to the celebration of Mother Earth, as personified by the Andean deity Pachamama. Many people observe the day by fasting, presenting the soil with different gifts such as coca leaves in the northern parts of Argentina and Bolivia, or with wine and tobacco here in Mendoza; and more importantly for today's trivia, by drinking, mid fasting, three shots of a beverage called carrulim or caña con ruda. For anyone interested in tasting something foul but with a long and symbolic history, you'll need a bottle of caña, an alcoholic beverage similar to rum (distilled from sugar cane juice), some lemon slices and a few leaves of rue herb. Place the lemon slices and rue leaves inside the bottle and let it ferment for a month. The result is honestly awful when it comes to taste, 3/10 wouldn't recommend.

Anyways. The guaraní people are considered to be one of the most advanced pre-conquista societies when it came to medicinal applications for plants and herbs, and, come what the Gregorian calendar calls August, they would celebrate winter's arrival by fasting and drinking, while fasting, large quantities of herbal beverages designed to ward off spirits and ailments, but mostly to strengthen their immune system against the coming cold, which can be extremely humid in their tropical areas.

When the conquistadores came, they brought with them different plants and herbs that took root in our continent, in this case, rue and sugar cane. Over time, the guaraníes, now under Spanish control, learned to use the positive properties of rue herb, and incorporated it, along with caña drinks, to their traditional celebration of winter's arrival. Centuries later, the Viceroyalty of Río de la Plata gained independence from Spain, and through its history, from the United Provinces of Río de la Plata and the Argentine Confederacy, all the way to the modern day republic of Argentina, the tradition of drinking caña con ruda on August 1st has continued to be transmitted and practised, expanding from just a few areas in Paraguay and northern Argentina all the way to Tierra del Fuego.

Historically, for many native peoples of South América August meant not only the harshest and coldest winter month: it consequently meant the losing of harvests and cattle due to frosts, and the losing of many lives due to illnesses. As a result, the ritual of drinking caña con ruda was and, to some extent continues to be accompanied by different symbolic sayings, such as Julio los prepara y agosto se los lleva, "July prepares them and August takes them away", in reference to those who died in August, Caña con ruda, contra el mal ayuda, "Caña and rue, wards against all evil", and Más vale emborracharse que morirse, "Better to be drunk than dead".

We don't know exactly when the transition from the traditional herbs towards rue and sugarcane happened in guaraní rites, but the history of caña con ruda as a ceremonial beverage is one of cultural and social syncretism, because it tells the story of a people who, in the face of subjugation by violent conquerors, refused to abandon their ways and traditions. Even when forced to accept European customs, languages and religions, they never stopped worshipping their land and their planet, and they took advantage of what the Spanish had brought to their region in order to improve their medicinal knowledge.

It shocks some non-Jewish people to know that I, despite being a kosher-observant Jew, have never had Manischewitz wine. It's something of a stereotype, in the US at least (not sure about elsewhere- kosher wine is thick, syrupy and gross, one of those weird Jewish food things that everyone knows about- I've seen it in too many sitcoms to count. Now, while it's true that the average kosher-observant Jew under forty may never have had Manischewitz wine (there have been a lot of better options brought to market since then), it's just as true that for years, Manischewitz and its ilk were absolutely the main choice when it came to Jewish consumers interested in kosher wine, and that for many non-Jews as well, it became a popular option and then a cultural reference point for Jews.

Why?

Wine has the dubious distinction of being both one of the most important components of Jewish ritual and also being one of the most complicated food items to make kosher. Traditionally, wine (or grape juice) is used every week for kiddush on Shabbat, not to mention the four cups per person needed for the Passover Seder. Yet, without going into the nitty gritty of kosher laws too much, it generally requires a great deal of oversight when it is made in order to qualify as kosher. The way this has historically worked is that either people who wanted kosher wine would make it themselves, buy it from someone who made it who they trusted, or buy it from someone who made it and whose operation was supervised by a rabbi they trusted. The latter option developed, in the United States and worldwide, into a more sophisticated kosher certification industry.

In the United States, a real kosher wine industry took a while to develop. The Jewish population was small to begin with, starting from only a couple thousand in the Revolutionary War era and only really beginning to explode in the 1840s or so to reach the hundreds of thousands by 1880. In this time, kosher wine as an industry waxed and waned- it was occasionally imported, and for a brief time in the 1860s-1880s there was a thriving kosher wine industry in California but it declined along with the rest of the California wine industry following a blight- but was overall a relatively small phenomenon, especially as Jews in the US tended to be more assimilated and the demand for specifically kosher wine was lower. Instead of wine, many Jews made their own raisin wine, or raisins which were fermented in water and then strained out of the liquid; it had always been seen as an inferior but acceptable option for ritual use, especially for those unable to afford wine for financial or other reasons.

Then, in 1881, a massive influx of Eastern European Jewish emigration to the US meant a Jewish population in the millions. These Jews were more likely to be religiously observant and need wine for Shabbat and holidays, which created a gap in the market. In 1899, that gap was filled by Sam Schapiro, a Lower East Side restaurateur who created a sideline in wine made from New York State Concord grapes. These grapes were popular and inexpensive, mostly sold by the growers to Welch's grape juice factory in New Jersey- and now to Schapiro, whose kosher wine company, under rabbinical supervision, became such a popular option that by 1907 he had closed his restaurant and moved to wine production full-time. Schapiro's House of Kosher Wine dominated the market in the early decades of the 20th century, not only patronized by strictly Jews who required exclusively kosher wine but also by less observant Jews who wanted specifically kosher wine for their Passover Seders as a taste of tradition. Even as the new American Jews assimilated, they remained a target market for kosher wine. There were other ways to obtain wine- both rabbis who independently made or certified their own small batches of wine, as well as imported Carmel wine from Palestine which had the cachet of being from the Land of Israel- but the local Concord wines grew more and more popular.

At this point, Schapiro's wine- and the other new competitor wines, also grown with Concord grapes- were known for their sweet, syrupy quality. This was because of the nature of Concord grapes in the first place- they are quite acidic, and had actually been used since the 19th century to make "sour," "foxy" wine in the Northeast. Winemaking with Concord grapes generally required the addition of a great deal of sugar, first in the fermentation process and then for taste, and as a result the wine could end up very sweet and syrupy. Schapiro's was no different, and the company turned it into an advantage with advertisements that touted how the wine could be "cut with a knife"- apparently something that people were looking for.

The 1920s, of course, changed the face of kosher winemaking as it did to all booze in general, as Prohibition became law of the land. Kosher winemakers were actually at something of an advantage, though, as there was an exception for wine used for sacramental purposes, and many kosher suppliers, including Schapiro, managed to get approval to continue to manufacture wine. This certainly led to some abuses as unscrupulous rabbis and winemakers served as illicit bootleggers- according to Schapiro family lore, Sam Schapiro was among them- but also led to a decline in large scale wine production in general, with many preferring to make their own sacramental wine at home. Overall, Prohibition put a damper on kosher wine production while still allowing many of the main, large players to stay in business.

So where does Manischewitz come in? While the Manischewitz food company had been founded back in 1888 by Dov Ber Manischewitz as a kosher food manufacturer, it had no role in the wine business- in fact, Manischewitz himself preferred to make raisin wine for personal consumption. It wasn't until the 1920s that Leo Star, George Robinson, and Meyer Robinson founded the Monarch Wine Company to make sacramental wine in upstate New York, in the center of Concord grape territory, and not until the 1930s with repeal of Prohibition that they decided to license Manischewitz's well-loved name in order to help promote their product. Not only that, they decided to use the same team of rabbinical supervisors that Manischewitz used and marketed heavily as the religious, traditional option, with a big Star of David and bearded rabbi on the bottle and the words "wine like mother used to make," a nod back to Prohibition and even earlier, when homemade and raisin wine were popular. Still, it was a long road for Manischewitz to reach true market penetration- many large local stores didn't add it to the shelves until the 1940s, initially preferring the smaller local brands and the Carmel brand from Mandatory Palestine (soon to be Israel).

Starting in the late 1940s, Manischewitz became a powerhouse in the kosher wine department, becoming the only brand besides the store brand to be sold at Macy's and mounting a massive advertising campaign in print, radio, and television. While initially, even with all of the publicity, the wine was used exclusively for ritual purposes (to the point that the company would even take returns on extra bottles after Passover), by the early 1950s Manischewitz began, against the odds, to sell year round. It had found crossover appeal in the African American community, first in New York and then in cities nationwide, and by the mid-50s sales were higher at Christmas and Thanksgiving than they were at Passover, given the much larger African American population. It seems probable that the reason for this popularity was the similarity between kosher Concord wine and the scuppernong wine made in the South, with the explicitly religious and sentimental marketing giving it an element of nostalgia which was attractive to African Americans who were often newly moved to the North. Manischewitz began to specifically market to this community, catering to its own interests even as it reinforced itself as a traditional Jewish product. Sales were split with another kosher Concord wine company, Mogen David, with other smaller companies gaining market shares as well; by 1953, kosher Concord wine, previously negligible as a percentage of the US's wine output, made up 10% of the country's wine output.

Seeing a good thing, Manischewitz eventually shifted most of its advertising to target the African American community, with advertisements featuring the likes of Sammy Davis Jr and 85% of the magazine advertising budget in 1973 going to Ebony. While it had previously attempted to target a more WASPy clientele, these efforts had generally been unsuccessful and were largely quashed. When in 1968 the company introduced its Cream White Concord, it launched two very different advertising campaigns- one touting its brand name, targeted at the African American community, and one that tried to hide or ignore it, aimed at white consumers. It was much more successful on the African American side, to the point where by 1981 Forbes Magazine recognized that community as the main demographic consuming Manischewitz drinks. While the wine was no longer marketed to a population that would be drinking it at the seder, it still was seen as a kosher, Jewish wine, even when outside a Jewish setting and when marketed to communities that mostly were not Jewish.

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Ah, well, if our leaders will give us back our booze I will quarrel with no one. My entrails have been insulted with so many damnable concoctions for so many years, that I fear I may have lost the ability to appreciate good liquor—though on my pilgrimages to Mexico I find that knack unimpaired so far. I shudder when I think of the stuff I’ve put into my innards. Looking back, I find that drinking, in this country at least, has been divided more or less definitely into various epochs, in each of which a different brand of poison and hell-fire dominated the thirsts of the people. Right after prohibition came in, everybody drank a tonic known as Force, which bore a picture on its label of Samson tearing the lion—and its effect was similar; they alternated this with another tonic known as Lyko. Then followed a fruit extract period, until the companies began bringing out extracts without alcoholic content. I still recall the fervent and sincere bitter blasphemies of staunch souls who had quaffed numbers of bottles of extracts, before discovering their nonalcoholic nature. Then came the boom-days of Jamaica ginger, which exceeded all epochs before and since. I doubt not that even now the mad-houses are filled with the gibbering votaries of jake. Legislation interfered with jake, and the makers of white mule, red eye and rot-gut came into their own. Of course, these drinks had been interwoven in all the other periods. Alternating poisons were hair-tonics, wood-alcohol and canned heat. I’ve seen old soaks who apparently preferred canned heat to anything else. Then there were other tonics—Sherry Bitters, Padres Wine Elixir, Virginia Dare. Virginia Dare tastes the best—that is to say, a strong man can get it down by gagging and holding his nose. A friend of mine and I stood one rainy night in the lee of the Brown County library wall, and strove manfully to get down a bottle of Sherry Bitters. Seasoned though we were on rot-gut, we ended by throwing the bottle over the nearest fence and drifting away on the bosom of the great, silent, brooding night. Padres Wine Elixir was a favorite of mine in my younger and more unregenerate days. It is bottled in California, and is merely a cheap grade of red wine, with enough drugs in it to make it nominally a tonic. Those drugs change it from a mere low-grade wine to a demonhaunted liquor. It never hits you twice the same way, and will eventually affect your heart. Pay no attention to the amount of alcohol stamped on the label; it varies from bottle to bottle. I have drunk three bottles and gotten no more cock-eyed than I have with half a bottle on another occasion. If you keep it cold it tastes slightly better, but when it’s hot it has a more lethal kick.

• Robert E. Howard to H. P. Lovecraft, 13 Jul 1932, CL2.383-384, AM1.323-324

For more on these, you can check out the Robert E. Howard Bar Guide

In the 3kingdoms, water could be used, sometimes as a medicine with the Turban leader using charmed water and confessions to "cure" pandemics that ripped across Han China and built his supporters (he died of illness during his failed revolt against the Han). Sometimes as a way of seeking long life through the mystic arts (or drinking urine), sometimes as a symbol of restraint and living simply. Or if alcohol was banned for reasons of restraint like Zhang Lu the theocratic warlord of Hanzhong or times of drought. Honey could be added to it for flavor and when the warlord turned failed Emperor Yuan Shu could not even get honey water to quench his thirst during a scorching summer, he realized he was done.

Wine was also used, it could be used in sacrifices, given as gifts and of course, drunk either privately or at banquets. Some were admired for their abilities to hold their alcohol with Wu commander Zhou Yu said to be able to notice a false note of music no matter how much he had to drink but generally restraint was expected as in most things.

One had to be careful to know when not to drink and when it might be wise, to get drunk to please your ruler. Lu Bu's officer Hou Cheng offered him wine during their siege on the last city he held Xiapi with Lu Bu not pleased given the ban on alcohol and threatened him. Hou Cheng defected. On the other hand refusing wine could be a problem, Yu Fan pretended to be flat out drunk to avoid toasting his ruler Sun Quan who was then furious when it turned out Yu Fan was sober, while Wu scholar Wei Zhao was imprisoned for refusing a ceremonial glass of wine by last Wu Emperor Sun Hao

There was awareness drink could be a problem. The first Emperor of Wu Sun Quan implemented a "do not execute people I tell you to kill when I'm drunk" order after nearly killing scholar Yu Fan over the latter's feigning to be drunk to avoid a toast. The Shu officer Liu Yan, a man from the same village as his Emperor Liu Bei who he had accompanied across China, struggled with drink, failing to keep a promise to stop drinking and seemingly become increasingly unwell and drunk. Eventually he caused scandal by (seemingly falsely) accusing Bei's son and Emperor Liu Shan of sleeping with his wife the beautiful Lady Hu and was executed.

There were some tales around drink, for example the senior Wei commander Man Chong was accused by rival Wang Ling of not just being too told for the job and getting sozzled. Alarmed that his most senior commander against the largest rival power might not be fit for duty, Wei emperor Cao Rui summoned Man Chong to the capital. Then tested him by plying him with wine and since Man Chong drank a lot of wine with no ill-effects, he was sent back to the front.

One of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove (a group fond of drinking, poetry and tending to rebel against the strictures of society) Ruan Ji was faced with marriage of his family into that of the controller of the empire Sima Zhao so proceeded to get blind drunk for days on end to avoid the matter until Sima Zhao dropped the idea.

To end on a quote: Wu commander Cheng Pu shared rank with the younger Zhou Yu and hated it, their friction did cause some problems but Zhou Yu was a charming generous figure and they became friends. Cheng Pu explained this change to his friends "To be with Zhou Yu is like drinking cold wine unmixed with water: you become drunk before you realize it."