By Kara Mae Adamo.
Some of my favorite things about cocktails are the stories that come with them.
For the last few years, I’ve spent most of my time hanging out and working in Penn Quarter in Washington, DC. For a history nerd obsessed with storytelling and hell-bent on cataloging and recording everything, it’s an absolute treasure trove. Every inch of the city has been, since its inception, positively marinated in intrigue, touched constantly by those who have sculpted our country and all of the people they knew and interacted with on a daily basis.
One group that has always captured the attentions and criticisms of the American people is the modern lobbyist.
The etymology of the word has been, as with damn near everything in this town, up for debate. There was a report in the BBC that once stated that “lobbying” comes from the gathering of Members of Parliament in the hallways–or, lobbies—of the UK Houses of Parliament before everyone goes in for debates. During this lobbying period, the public is able to meet and converse with their representatives.
Across the pond, in our own DC, the story is similar. The word was used as early on as 1808, but it first came into print in 1820, “Other letters from Washington affirm, that members of the Senate, when the compromise question was to be taken in the House, were not only “lobbying about the Representatives’ Chamber” but also active in endeavoring to intimidate certain weak representatives by insulting threats to dissolve the Union.—April 1, 1820″
So, technically, Americans have at least known about lobbying since then, but its use became positively ingrained in society by one wry character with whom its influence was likely significant.
The story takes place at the historic Willard Hotel, which is still there and stands to this day an absolutely exquisite Beaux-Arts styled nod to French Neoclassicism and a hybrid of the Gothic and Renaissance-period architecture throughout Europe. The hotel stands at 14th and Pennsylvania, several blocks from where I work but only two blocks east of the White House. Given its historic and grandiose presence, it has attracted politicians and even presidents for well over a century now, and one of such patrons was none other than our Union Favorite: Ulysses S. Grant.
Grant, surly and rather unconventional for his day, often spent his evenings at the Willard to smoke a cigar and sip on brandy while winding down from his day job as POTUS.
Because he was such a creature of habit, political advocates knew what time to show up at the Willard and would crowd the lobby to access him and, frankly, buy the guy a drink in the hopes that, after he caught a buzz, they could chat him up and influence his policies.
One has to imagine that, at least sometimes, it probably worked.
Grant’s presidency ended in 1877, and a few years later lobbying was firmly and permanently infused into our culture. By the 1880’s, one lobbyist was so persistent and, like Grant, such a creature of habit that his very existence has been cemented, internationally, in the world of bar culture.
At a nineteenth century bar called The Shoomaker, Rickey would show up and order what he would refer to as his, “Mornin’s Mornin'”: a decent pour of bourbon over a chunk of ice, and topped off with sparkling mineral water. One day, a bartender named George A. Williamson added a squeeze of lime to the drink.
From then on, Colonel Rickey would order his drink and, as his friends caught on to it, they would order it by referring to it as a, “Joe Rickey” or, “that Joe Rickey drink”.
Years later, the drink was adjusted, using gin instead of bourbon, and from there it spread like a wildfire. At this point, you can go to any decent bar throughout the world and order a “Gin Rickey” and the bartender will likely know exactly what you mean.
In DC, the food and beverage industry is an exceptionally tight-knit group. I’ve honestly never seen anything like it and it’s intoxicating (ha!) to be a part of something so inclusive and progressive. Here, we actually have an organization called the DC Craft Bartender’s Guild, and, in 2008, the Guild determined that July is Rickey Month.
So, happy Rickey Month.
If you want to celebrate the way that Colonel Joe Rickey would have liked, here is the recipe:
In a Collins Glass:
Squeeze a healthy amount of fresh lime (I use at least one whole lime for a drink) into the glass. Drop one chunk of ice (although these days rocks are considered acceptable), into the glass. Pour about 2oz. of gin (or, if you want to be authentic to the original, bourbon) into the glass and top the rest with seltzer water or club soda. Serve it with a bar spoon to stir.
Until next time,
Cheers.
Kara Adamo is a bartender, booze nerd, and booze writer. She is the author of Fancy Grape Juice: De-Snootifying the World’s Snootiest Beverage; Artimals: Coloring the Whimsical Wild; and Brews & Hues: A Coloring Book About Beer.Adamo currently lives in Washington DC.
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