Dear Wags,

You get pummeled with end-of-the-year newsletters, reminding you of everything crappy and miraculous that happened in 2024. We prefer to focus on what you’ll do next. You made it through the past 12 months with humor and heart, and we expect nothing less in the year to come. Remember that when things turn choppy, you always find a way to sail through.

Thanks to you, our little hub keeps growing. We hatched this brand as an act of ornery resistance against culture as it was manufactured in gloomy 2020; life was hard enough without being robbed of fun. We still believe that entertainment can unite a diverse society and that the arguments it inevitably provokes don’t need to become toxic vendettas. We have a point of view, but we’re not locked into it.

One of the worst things about a hyper-wired society is how it both publicizes controversy and ossifies it. In the last few months, many of our assumptions have been shaken. It turns out we were badly wrong about many things. On a bad morning, that can lead to bitterness and rage. On a good one, we are reminded to let go of godlike pretensions and focus on the extraordinary people who, without acknowledgment or compensation, enrich our lives. We never thank them, and then they are gone. Meanwhile, our tweets ping around forever. That is the cruelty of a screen-defined existence. It disconnects us from the content that matters most.

As we head into the New Year, we are reminded of Christine Rosen’s extraordinary and poetic book, The Extinction of Experience. Without thinking much about it, we have surrendered to a disembodied life—everything is at our fingertips, smoothly delivered to us by algorithm and bot. What have we lost along the way? The chafe and randomness of real human interaction, and an ability to digest data that does not conform to our preconceived notions. Technological ease did not make us happy. Serendipity, surprise, and tolerance—it turns out these were the byproducts of bumpier, less mediated lives.

If we cannot go back to the way we were, perhaps we can remind ourselves that the best things in life are still earned. Relationships, for example. How much easier it is to collect grievances than it is to invest in another human being. Whatever 2025 brings, may it be shared with real friends.

Meanwhile, this round is on us. The Cocktail Team suggests these libations to buoy your spirits. If you are a teetotaler, treat yourself to the finest sarsaparilla. You made it this far and can laugh at the absurdity of it all. It makes you excellent company.

Yours Ever,

The Good Time Girl

A word about Wag Emerita Marion Davies: She was a generous friend, a gifted comic actress, and a bankable movie star. Powerful men did her no favors. William Randolph Hearst, her lover of 35 years, hampered her career. Worse, Orson Welles and screenwriter Joseph Mankiewicz sullied her legacy by inventing the character of Susan in Citizen Kane, which turned the tycoon’s mistress into a gold-digging, no-talent lush. A work of cinematic genius is also a reputational crime. Welles insisted his creation wasn’t intended as a putdown of Davies, but the damage was done.

The real Marion was devoted to Hearst but remained her own woman. Her stardom did not survive the Depression, but Pauline Kael and other critics later championed her work in more than 40 pictures, including April Folly, Page Miss Glory, and Cain and Mabel. The Floradora Girl (1930) showcases Davies as an 1890s showgirl who wants to marry for money but falls for a guy who’s down on his luck. Luckily, fortunes change.

Like Davies, the Floradora is bubbly, tart, and just sweet enough, hiding complexity in an amiable package. It was born before Prohibition and owes much to the better-known Tom Collins. The name comes from Florodora, a Gay Nineties Broadway musical that also inspired Davies’ picture. It’s the life of any party.—Dulcy Parker

Components

• 2 oz London dry gin (any good one will do)

• 1 oz freshly squeezed lime juice

• 1/2 oz raspberry syrup

• Chilled ginger beer or ginger ale (ginger ale will make the drink sweeter)

• Raspberries for garnish

Combinations

Raspberry syrup is a cinch to prep: Combine a pack of frozen berries with 2-3 cups of simple syrup. After thoroughly mixing the ingredients, let the concoction sit for the better part of a day, then strain out the solids. Refrigerate the finished syrup in a sealed container.

1. Pour the gin, lime juice, and prepared syrup into an ice-filled cocktail shaker and shake thoroughly until it’s cold to the touch.

2. Fill a highball glass with fresh ice.

3. Double-strain the drink into the glass: Place a Hawthorne strainer over the top of your cocktail shaker to hold back chunks of ice. Then pour the mixture through it and a fine mesh strainer held over the glass. This keeps fruity glop from invading the cocktail.

4. Top off with ginger beer and give it a gentle stir.

5. Plop in raspberries for garnish.

6. At the stroke of midnight, plunge into the Neptune Pool at San Simeon.

The Forever Party Town

San Francisco has survived earthquakes, tech bros, and the loathing of half of America. In addition to its incomparable natural setting, it has a bruised survivor’s charm. The City’s most famous columnist, Herb Caen, hated the Tony Bennett tune (I Left My Heart in San Francisco). Instead, he championed the theme song from the 1936 disaster musical San Francisco. Sung by Jeannette MacDonald in the picture, it salutes the town’s irrepressible spirit: San Francisco! Open your golden gate! You let no stranger wait outside your door!

The Boothby is a New Year’s drink from a legendary party town. It’s named after William “Cocktail” Boothby, a renowned local bartender turned politician who was arrested for violating Prohibition. His namesake cocktail was first concocted at San Francisco’s Palace Hotel a few years after the 1906 earthquake. It’s essentially a Manhattan belatedly introduced to Champagne, which finishes off the rich rye flavor with a sprightly tingle. That makes it perfect for survivors of 2024, from San Francisco and anywhere else.—Anna Madrigal

Components

• 2 oz rye

• 1 oz sweet vermouth

• 3 dashes of Angostura bitters

• 2 dashes of orange bitters

• 1 oz brut Champagne

• Luxardo maraschino cherry for garnish

  Combinations

  1. Pour the rye and sweet vermouth into an ice-filled glass.

  2. Dash away with your bitters.

  3. Stir until the cocktail is chilled.

  4. Strain into a chilled coupe glass

  5. Top off with Champagne.

  6. Garnish with a Luxardo maraschino cherry (two if you’re feeling indulgent).

  7. Gaze out at the foggy Marin Headlands and know that this is still the place.

One More Go at the Punchbowl

Scandinavia is famous for lingonberries, lutefisk, and seasonal depression, but its take on mulled wine is worth staying up late for. What Danes and Norwegians call gløgg and Swedes call glögg is a Nordic staple during the holidays, and as the evening wears on, it’s also loads of fun to say (it’s pronounced glug). We don’t know if Norwegian figure skating star Sonja Henie glugged gløgg off the ice, but we swear by Swede Marcus Samuelsson’s glögg recipe. It will spice up any celebration.—Erica Falck

Components

• 2 cinnamon sticks

• 1 tsp cardamom pods

• 1 piece of peeled ginger

• 1 orange zest (use about half of the fruit)

• 6 cloves

• 1/2 cup vodka

• 1 bottle of dry red wine (750 ml)

• 1 cup of Madeira or Portuguese ruby port

• 1 cup granulated sugar

• 1 tbsp. vanilla sugar

• 1/2 cup blanched whole almonds

• 1/2 cup raisins or currants

Combinations

1. Break the cinnamon sticks into pieces.

2. Crush the cinnamon pieces and cardamom together with a mortar and pestle

3. Combine them with ginger, orange zest, cloves, and vodka in a glass container and let it sit for about a day.

4. Strain the concoction through a fine mesh strainer into a big saucepan (you can pitch the lumpy spices). Pour in the wine, Madeira/port, vanilla sugar, almonds, and raisins. Heat over medium until bubbles rise around the edges of your brew. Good heavens, do not let it boil over.

5. Keep the gløgg warming on the oven on low heat. Ladle it into mugs to serve. Do keep an eye on it to prevent boiling.

6. Add a smattering of raisins and almonds as a garnish.

7. Wish your guests gott nytt år!

We’ll Always Have Cocktails

The mixology team gets fan mail for our French 75 recipe, so we’re reposting it for New Year’s Eve revelers. It’s hard to beat this simple Champagne cocktail, which gets its name from the 75-millimeter field gun used by the Allies in World War I. The gun tended to hit the mark, and so did this venerable drink. In the 1942 classic Casablanca Humphrey Bogart's character, Rick, orders a French 75 at his Café Américain in Vichy-ruled Morocco. That sealed the cocktail’s sophisticated reputation. It’s having a bit of a revival today.—Brian Flanagan

Components

• 1 sugar cube (You may use a teaspoon of granulated or Demerara sugar. Or, try simple syrup)

• 4 to 6 dashes of Angostura bitters

• Chilled Champagne (or other sparkling wine)

• Lemon twist for garnish

Combinations

1. Douse your sugar cube with bitters.

2. Drop the cube into a chilled Champagne flute.

3. Pour in the Champagne (or other sparkling wine) and watch it fizz.

4. Garnish with a lemon twist and sing As Time Goes By.

Happy New-Groni Year

The Negroni is such an enduring cocktail that it can feel a bit ubiquitous. Fortunately, there are many ways to give it a fresh twist. Last year, we paid homage to the Negroni Sbagliato, which had a social media-driven revival. Substituting prosecco for gin in a Negroni makes it more festive. For a more wintry variation, swap prosecco for Lambrusco, a sparkling red wine from Lombardy. Lambrusco brings the fizz and adds a rich, earthy flavor—perfect for a cold January night.—Marcello Rubini

Components

• 1 oz Campari

• 1 oz sweet vermouth

• 1 oz Lambrusco

• Orange peel, for garnish

Combinations

1. Pour the Campari and sweet vermouth into an ice-filled mixing glass.

2. Stir until well chilled.

3. Strain into a rocks glass filled with fresh ice.

4. Top with Lambrusco.

5. Garnish with an orange peel—and belt out Volare.

Holy Smokes!

Star bartender Yael Stormborn Vengroff has been a cocktail innovator on both coasts. A few years back, she concocted a drink she named Set the New Year on Fire, which is delicious but requires you to proceed with caution. It blends the smoky taste of single-malt scotch with the crispness of Campari, tart fruit flavors, and the sweetness of simple syrup. It’s a tasty drink, but what makes the evening is that it’s crowned with a flaming lime shell. If you’re nervous, plenty of YouTube videos will guide you through the pyrotechnics. Do be safe.—Charlene McGee

Components

• 6 mint leaves

• 3/4 oz freshly squeezed lime juice

• 1/2 oz simple syrup

• 2 oz single-malt scotch

• 1/2 oz Campari

• Lime shell for garnish

• Sugar cube (for the lime)

• 151-proof rum

Combinations

• Put the mint, lime juice, and simple syrup into a Collins glass and muddle the ingredients together.

• Pour in the scotch, then fill the glass with crushed ice.

• Top off with Campari, and add more crushed ice.

• Garnish with a mint sprig.

• After squeezing the juice from half a lime, place the hollowed-out shell on top of your cocktail like a little boat.

• Place the sugar cube inside the shell, douse it with the rum, and ever so carefully light the cube on fire, making sure your eyebrows are safe.

• Say "Happy New Year!" and blow out the conflagration before you take a sip.

Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each New Year find you a better Wag.” —Benjamin Franklin