Virgin Hot Toddy: A Non-Alcoholic Holiday Cocktail

A surprise hit on the botanical walks I lead, where a picnic rewards the exercise, is the hot toddy that I pour in late fall and winter. When “toddy” is mentioned, eyebrows are raised—some in hope and anticipation, some in trepidation. Because it means alcohol, doesn’t it? It can, but not necessarily. Some eyebrows sink in disappointment when they learn that this is a virgin version. But the surprise, for the eyebrows’ owners, is that their first, steaming sip is a happy one, because this warming toddy tastes satisfyingly grown up. It is portable for picnics, scaleable for big holiday parties, and comforting sipped during a gift-opening pause on Christmas Day.

Photography by Marie Viljoen.

I call my forager’s version of a hot toddy a Forest Toddy. It is spiced with local, seasonal aromatics, featuring the edible herbs and spices of maritime forests and land-locked woodlands.

The flavors of a hot toddy that tastes of place can shift. They may include the gin-y bittersweetness of juniper (otherwise known as eastern red cedar, Juniperus virginiana), bayberry (Morella pensylvanica), citrus-like spicebush (Lindera benzoin), sumac species, and the perfumed resin of needled evergreens like fir, hemlock, pine, or spruce (Abies, Tsuga, Pinus and Picea, respectively). Variations I have made include pine cone jam, which you can make or buy; dried magnolia petals, for their gingery, cardamom-like bitterness; and fragrant sweetfern (Comptonia peregrina).

Caveat: Does it go without saying that you should never use yew (Taxus), also a needled evergreen? Not only is yew not aromatic, but it is decidedly toxic.

The fun of this hot toddy recipe is that it is endlessly various and open to creativity. You can glean ingredients from your pantry, garden, farmer’s market, or grocery store. Its success depends on balance: between sweet and tart, tannic and aromatic. Layers of botanical flavor give it a sense of toddy gravitas and the complexity that is often associated with booze. I’m not saying you can’t add a dash of your favorite spirit (bourbon and rye spring to mind), but I can assure you that no one will miss it.

In winter, the juniper in my recipe is fresh, since its season is from late fall through spring; the spicebush is the dried fruit from late summer (or purchased online), or the tree’s aromatic winter twigs, scraped. The fir, well, that is trimmed from my (unsprayed) holiday tree. While fir is the most aromatic of the needled trees, hemlock and spruce have plenty to offer, as do pine needles.