The wider cultural sphere of Catalonia, the highbrow tradition of Champagne, the Creole heritage of Louisiana–what do these regions, all famous for their pride in local identity, drink in common? Ratafia, similar in name more than composition, is well known in each of these locations.
The name ratafia itself has apocryphal etymologies–one of which suggests it comes from a Latin toast that was given at the conclusion of business in the 1600s, res rata fiat or “consider it done.” More likely, it comes from the linguistic quagmire of the Caribbean. Beyond the name, all of those who make ratafia infuse a strong spirits with plants, especially seasonal fruits.
Ratafia is generally made with brandy or eau-de-vie as a base spirit. It is unsurprising that the wine regions of Champagne and Burgundy in France have their own version of ratafia. As viticulturalists, the Champenois infuse brandy with grape must. French ratafia is an abstraction of the wine making process–make the wine, distill the wine, then add back into the brandy the same juice the wine came from in the first place.
The French acknowledge the long heritage of ratafia production, but also treat the drink with the distinctively French legal reverence granted to things like champagne and cognac. One of France’s foremost wine buying guides, Le Guide Hachette des Vins, explains that the artisanal product received a legal Indication géographique protégée (IGP) in 2015. The law stipulates that Le Ratafia Champenois must only contain grapes from Champagne region. The ratafia must ferment for at least 10 months and age in oak 3 more years.
Elsewhere on the Iberian Peninsula, the folk tradition of ratafia colors rural life in Catalonia, Spain. The region has recipes for the infusion dating back at least to 1842 in La Selva county. (Fabrega) Catalonians use many dozens of different herbs when making their ratafia, but there is one ingredient that defines a Catalonian ratafia: the green walnut. For each liter of spirits, Catalonians slice and add one unripe walnut. On top of the walnut goes a potpourri of local leaves, flowers, roots, and stems, all of which have specific medicinal properties according to those who make it. Ratafia, more than just a beverage, is a cure-all for many traditional Catalonian families.
For as many ailments that the Catalonians fear, they add an herb into the base spirits In their belief, squinancywort (Asperula cynanchica) is a diuretic, Lamium flexuosum ten cures coughs, and a native woodland scabious (Knautia dipsacifolia subsp. catalaunica) fights off the measles. (Parada) The annual process of making ratafia marks a ritual as families come together and children are initiated into the tradition. The children add the herbs one by one as adults instruct the names and medicinal uses of each herb, flower, or root. This tradition is especially strong in the counties of Garrotxa, Pla de l’Estany ,el Girones, Alt Urgell, and la Segarra. (Fabrega)
Among the other famous wine-bibbers, the Italians of Abruzzo make their ratafia with sour cherries and local wine. The practice likely dates back to around the same time the Catalonians can trace theirs back, the mid 1800s.
American ratafia is a more dated tradition that lives on in very specific communities today. During the 1700s the drink was fairly common throughout well-to-do taverns in most colonies. Later, it was a tradition of the South. Americans used brandy and even whiskey to infuse ripe fruit and sugar. These aged for at least 6 months and Christmas would often welcome the opening of a new bottle.
The Creole population has perhaps the deepest ratafia tradition. Even today, some folks in Louisiana make ratafias. The Times-Picayune of New Orleans acknowledged the drink’s Creole roots in 1915 and gave the recipe for the orange variety: “Place the zest of three oranges and one pound of sugar in a jar and add one pint of brandy and the juice of three oranges. Let the infusion stand for three days. Then filter and bottle for use. A ratafia should not be used for at least six months after it is bottled.” (Times-Picayune)
Other Americans also made ratafias with southern staples like quince and persimmon. In the 1922 Homemade Beverages and American Drinks, a recipe is given for Red Ratafia: “Put two pounds of Morelia cherries into a bowl with half a pound each of strawberries and raspberries, bruise the fruit thoroughly, strew over it 4 oz. of cane castor sugar, and leave for 24 hours. Strain and measure the juice, and to every pint allow 4 oz. cane sugar, a quart of brandy, and a drachm of bruised cloves. Infuse for a month, the filter and bottle.” (Steedman) One version published in a Civil War cookbook calls for the infusion of brandy with the kernels of peaches. (Bush) Indeed, in the current moment’s local food sensibilities, Louisiana has enjoyed a quiet resurgence of the Creole ratafia tradition.
Finally, the English made ratafias infusing brandy with fruit. They made one called badiane, an infusion of brandy, almonds, sugar, lemon zest, cinnamon, and cloves. Black currants made a lovely ratafia that predates our crème de cassis. The British Wine-Maker and Domestic Brewer of 1847 seems to corroborate the American recipe for Red Ratafia: cherries, raspberries, and (in Britain) gooseberries. It also gives a quintessentially British recipe for Imperial Ratafia which includes the luxurious ambergris.
Take two ounces of the kernels of peaches, apricots and nectarines, bruised; five ounces of bitter almonds, bruised; half a pint of the best rectified spirits of wine in which dissolve half a drachm of compound essence of ambergris; five quarts of malt spirits, one in five; half a gallon of English Frontignac wine, and as much rose-water as will make up the two gallons; steep the kernels and the almonds for ten days then draw off for use. This quantity will take one pound of loaf sugar to sweeten it; one pound and a half may be employed if wanted to be sweet.
Ratafia attempts to capture the freshness and flavor of a harvest many seasons later. The ripe fruits of the summer mature even longer in a strong brandy solution and present their new flavor for Christmas. Regardless of what fruits or herbs go into a ratafia, osmosis is to thank for the infusion of flavor. As plants become soaked in ethanol, the cell walls gelatinize and the inside of individual cells begin oozing into the brandy. This method of maceration unifies the many traditions of ratafia making, but the demand for local fruits explains its diversity.
Bush, Ava. “Utilization of the Culinary and Therapeutic Properties of the Peach.” Economic Botany, vol. 25, no. 1, 1971, pp. 12–21. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/4253205. Accessed 19 Jun. 2022.
City Gazette, (Charleston, South Carolina) October 30, 1805.
Fabrega, Jaume. El llibre de la ratafia (Segona edició). Vol. 11. Cossetània Edicions.
McDermott, Nancie. Fruit: a Savor the South cookbook. UNC Press Books, 2017.
“Orange Day and Praise of Citrus Fruits–Oranges as Table Delicacies–Recipes,” Times-Picayune (New Orleans, Louisiana) November 7, 1915.
Parada, M., E. Carrió, and J. Vallès. “Ethnobotany of food plants in the Alt Emporda region (Catalonia, Iberian Peninsula).” J Appl Bot Food Qual 84.1 (2011): 11-25.
Roberts, William Henry. The British Wine-Maker and Domestic Brewer, etc. 1847.
Smith, Andrew F., ed. The Oxford companion to American food and drink. Oxford University Press, 2007.
Steedman, M. E. Homemade Beverages and American Drinks. Lulu Press, Inc, 2016.
Drinking alcoholic horse’s milk is a notable experience. Europeans have been writing home about it since Herodotus started writing history. Koumiss or airag, depending on the language, is an ancient drink that has enabled Central Asian nomads to preserve the nutrition of horse’s milk over many months and vast distances.
Monterrey is Mexico’s industrial city. While traditional beverages might be hard to come by here, the city’s history has long been influenced by beer. That is Cervecería Cuauhtémoc was one of the city’s original factories and helped to develop much of Monterrey’s early heavy industry.
Yet for something so uniquely American, the native succulent has been given a very Greek name. Agave was the mother of the king of Thebes who famously killed her own son, King Pentheus. In her defense, she only killed her son because she was blinded by a divine madness brought upon by the worship of the god of wine, Dionysos. That means your tequila is made from a plant named after a woman who got a little too crazy off the god of wine. So how did this Greek name end up on a Mexican bottle?
Guatemalans make a sort of limeade out of salt, limes, and soda water. Interestingly, Argentines have used the same term to refer to a kind of yerba mate. The word comes from the earliest years of Conquest in Latin America, and once referred to escaped slaves.
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