Charleston, West Virginia
One of the worst chemical spills in US history tainted Charleston’s water supply in 2014.
September. Labor Day is past, school is in session, and Boston Common’s famous Frog Pond is empty of its refreshing summer waters. The number of sunny days suitable for strolls through the Gardens will soon give way to a frenzy of acorn-burying. In a couple of months, children will be “coasting” down the Common’s snowy hills on their sleds. To savor the fleeting moments of summer, we crave the flavor of an aestival staple, lemonade.
The promenades of the Boston Common converge to bustling intersections where vendors offer their wares. Here, they sell slush or sausages. There, fried dough or ice-cold water. One kind of stand stands out. Striped green and yellow, these vendors deal in the true taste of summer. Behind a wall of lemons, they sell freshly squeezed lemonade.
On Brewer Fountain Plaza, a cart has been selling lemonade for over a decade. The man working the stand has spent his past 2 summers juicing lemons for tourists and locals alike. The busy plaza is a prime location, he says he goes through “so many lemons”–upwards of 1,000 per week. He has a steady line of customers for whom his metal hand press exhausts lemon after lemon. A spoon of sugar to taste and a shovel of ice. His lemonade is tart, but the sugar takes the edge off the lemon’s acidity. Many sitting around the fountain sip the refreshing drink.
A decade of selling lemonade seems a long time, but nothing in comparison to the drink’s history on Boston’s Common. The park, established in 1634 as a public space, has seen business come and go. Colonial Bostonians used the park for a variety of activities including gravel mining, brick making, alms giving, and pasturing cows. Leisure, too, existed on the Common, but no one was permitted to stroll in the Common on Sunday. The owner of any horse found on the Common on the Sabbath was fined 5 shillings. (Ayer)
Lemonade, of course, is a leisurely drink. Vendors have been selling the drink on the Common since at least 1838, but Bostonians drank it before that. In 1784, wealthy Boston families founded the elite Sans Souci Club (meaning ‘Without a Care’) and sipped lemonades in addition to wines, punches, and teas. (Bushman) Elsewhere in the States, we know Martha Washington, wife to the first president, served lemonade at Mount Vernon. The drink might have made it to the Common for picnics and promenades, but the first businesses are likely pop-up stands for busy days or celebrations.
Following a Fourth of July celebration in the park in 1838 , Massachusetts’ man of letters, Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote “A very hot, bright, sunny day; town much thronged; booths on the Common, selling gingerbread, sugar-plums, and confectionery, spruce beer, lemonade. Spirits forbidden, but probably sold stealthily.” (American Notebooks)
Half a century later, lemonade featured prominently in another Fourth of July celebration. The Boston Daily Advertiser reports on Independence Day 1888: “And speaking of lemonade, we come to another feature of the Fourth, which is proverbial. Plain, common, every-day lemonade, dark-red lemonade, ling red lemonade, no-red-at all lemonade, every imaginable kind of lemonade from two cents to 10 cents per glass; served in small glasses, large glasses, served with straws and without; served from pails, tubs and pans, made-on-the-spot lemonade, that about covers the lemonade feature of a ‘Fourth on the Common.’” Lemonade was a colorful business for colorful days of celebration, but perhaps these carts were not the everyday summer stalwarts that they are today.
As emblematic as it is of summer on the Common, lemonade is also the paragon of America’s entrepreneurial spirit. The vendors in the Common today are no exception. A closer look at their backgrounds and strategies underscores just how business-minded they are.
Across from the Public Garden, a lemonade stand tempts those waiting to cross Charles Street. Here, a young man is introduced to the world of work as he juices lemons and box pours them with ice and sugar. During his summer vacation, he works part-time for the cart owner. This is his second summer on his first ever job. The lemonade stand, many of our first forays into the economy, is teaching him the ways of business ownership. He says he has learned a lot about management: inventory, staffing, handling cash. The high schooler even offers up that he would want to run a small business sometime in the future. But, for now, summer has ended and school is in session. He will only be out here selling lemonade for a couple more weekends.
Indeed, these lemonade stands are no joke. They operate as legitimate businesses that compete against each other for the attention of thirsty patrons. For the 2022 season, there are 6 stands on the Common selling lemonade, owned by 4 different companies. The businesses must submit bids on Requests for Proposal (RFPs) on a yearly basis to sell lemonade at designated areas within the park. They have to make their money back from April through September.
Navigating the permitting can be challenging. Next to the Common, Downtown Crossing now permits 6 vendors to sell their wares in the pedestrian area. One vendor, in business for 32 years, remembers when the same space housed 62 pushcarts. Times change, but he still sells lemonade. In fact, he refuses to sell any other beverage except water, funneling all of his customers to his marquee offering, lemonade squeezed from California lemons.
Even within the park, the stands try to differentiate themselves. By the carousel next to the Frog Pond, a stand sells “frozen fresh squeezed” lemonade. It has been selling the concoction for 4 years in that spot, and is the only one in the park with this recipe. A scoop of lemon Italian Ice, the juice of one lemon, ice, sugar water, and another scoop of Italian Ice to top it off. It is real lemonade with a confectionary twist. The location almost demands the icy addition as children stumble off the merry-go-round ready for the next delight. This lemonade has a more distinct flavor, but the addition of Italian Ice keeps it cold for far longer.
Up the hill, a stand owned by the same company has sold lemonade across from the golden dome of the State House for the past 4 years. Here, the brother of the frozen lemonade vendor sells roasted nuts and lemonade, but his recipe is totally different. He adds lemon juice to ice and then dilutes it with sugar water. The sugar water is key, as mixing raw sugar in, his sister says, never works once ice has been added. To make sure the sweetness is just right, the vendor always has a lemonade in the morning before his first sale. His technique works, here the lemonade is sweet, cold, and quenching.
At the foot of the Frog Pond, another stand sells fried dough and lemonade. The man behind the stand says business is slow. Summer, he notes, is coming to an end. The centuries old park has seen the seasons come and go before, and so have these vendors. As the Frog Pond vacillates between summertime fountain and winter skating rink, the vendors put their carts in storage and reapply for their vending permit for the coming summer. When the sun does come out again in the spring, Bostonians will be sure to do what they have been doing since the 1800s–taking leisure in the park with a cool glass of fresh lemonade.
Ayer, Mary Farwell. Early Days on Boston Common. Priv. Print., 1910.
Bushman, Richard. “Freedom and Prosperity in the American Revolution.” (1978).
HAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL. Passages from the American Notebooks of Nathaniel Hawthorne. HANSEBOOKS, 2016.
“On Boston Common. an Animated Scene That Attracted Great Crowds of People.” Boston Daily Advertiser, MORNING ed., vol. 151, no. 24525, 5 July 1888, p. 8. Readex: Readex AllSearch, infoweb.newsbank.com/apps/readex/doc?p=ARDX&docref=image/v2%3A109E426370EFFFF8%40EANX-12BE0D62C406B748%402410824-12BE0D63AF0D2E68%407-12BE0D670D52B0B8%40On%2BBoston%2BCommon.%2Ban%2BAnimated%2BScene%2BThat%2BAttracted%2BGreat%2BCrowds%2Bof%2BPeople. Accessed 11 Sept. 2022.
One of the worst chemical spills in US history tainted Charleston’s water supply in 2014.
The thousands of days I spent drinking this tap water have numbed me to the nuances of its flavors. It is vital to appreciate the water that brought me up.
New Mexico’s most famous cup of coffee contains the flavoring of piñon nut. The coffee is a modern favorite, but the Southwest has a long history of mixing coffee with local products, or even replacing coffee with roasted seeds, roots, and nuts. While piñon is a unique flavor, it is likely the Navajo invented this concoction after the US government introduced them to coffee.
A review of cook books and culinary histories in Savannah and Charleston reveals a variety of herbal teas, complex punches, and foraged fermentable. While sweet tea appears in these texts, it seems that the drinks of the Low Country past were far more colorful.
Subscribe to our Monthly TAB Newsletter to stay curious about drinking culture.
One more thing! Check your inbox (Promotional & Junk) for a message from us. Click the link in the email to confirm subscription!