How Fast Food Began: The History of This Thoroughly American (and Now Global) Form of Dining

What is the most Amer­i­can insti­tu­tion of all? The mind first goes in the direc­tions of church, of the mil­i­tary, of foot­ball. But if we con­sid­er only the sys­tems of mod­ern life devel­oped on Unit­ed States soil, the most influ­en­tial must sure­ly be fast food. That influ­ence man­i­fests in not just the home­land but the rest of the world as well, and like every robust Amer­i­can cre­ation, fast food both changes and adapts to the for­eign lands in which it takes root. Though unknown in the U.S., the yel­low motor­cy­cles of McDon­ald’s deliv­ery­men are an every­day sight in the cap­i­tal of South Korea, where I live. That could hard­ly have fig­ured in even the far­thest-reach­ing visions Richard and Mau­rice McDon­ald had for the entire­ly new mod­el of ham­burg­er stand they launched in San Bernardi­no, Cal­i­for­nia, in 1948.

Back in post­war Amer­i­ca, “car cul­ture reigns supreme. Dri­ve-in movies and dri­ve-in restau­rants become all the rage, tak­ing con­ve­nience to anoth­er lev­el.” So says the nar­ra­tor of the clip above, from the fast-food episode of the Net­flix series His­to­ry 101. But before long, dri­ve-ins would be rel­e­gat­ed to the sta­tus of his­tor­i­cal curios­i­ty, and fast food on the McDon­ald’s mod­el would become near­ly omnipresent.

As with much else in Amer­i­can indus­tri­al his­to­ry, the key was effi­cien­cy. Hav­ing pre­vi­ous­ly run a dri­ve-in, the McDon­ald broth­ers under­stood well how cum­ber­some such oper­a­tions could be, and how they encour­aged cus­tomers to linger rather than spend their mon­ey and be on their way. The stripped-down menu, the stream­lined cook­ing process: every ele­ment was now engi­neered for speed above all.

McDon­ald’s did not, how­ev­er, invent the dri­ve-through. That hon­or goes to a Texas estab­lish­ment called Pig Stand, which first erect­ed that pil­lar of the Amer­i­can way of life back in 1921. In Fast Food: The Fast Lane of Life, the His­to­ry Chanel doc­u­men­tary above, the pres­i­dent of Texas Pig Stands says that the chain’s founder Jessie G. Kir­by “was famous for his quote of say­ing that peo­ple with cars are so lazy that they don’t want to get out of them to go eat. That prophe­cy proved to be very true.” Even as the spread of car own­er­ship across Amer­i­ca and then the world made dri­ve-through fast food into a viable propo­si­tion, it put (and con­tin­ues to put) greater and greater pres­sure on the busi­ness­es to deliv­er their prod­uct in short­er and short­er times.

“Beyond the chal­lenges of tech­ni­cal hard­ware that deliv­ered things fast, the indus­try had to deliv­er a pipeline to deliv­er the food,” says the doc­u­men­tary’s nar­ra­tor. “Through­out the eight­ies, the burg­er giants set about design­ing a net­work of sup­pli­ers that could deliv­er mil­lions of tons of foods to thou­sands of restau­rants at exact­ing stan­dards of uni­for­mi­ty.” This uni­for­mi­ty — ham­burg­ers that cost and taste exact­ly the same, every­where — enchant­ed Andy Warhol, that maven of Amer­i­can mass cul­ture. It has also, arguably, done its part to triv­i­al­ize the rit­u­als of prepar­ing and con­sum­ing food, to say noth­ing of the health dan­gers posed by fre­quent indul­gence in salty, sug­ary, oily meals, espe­cial­ly in the con­text of a seden­tary auto­mo­tive lifestyle. But if you don’t under­stand fast food — and all the tech­no­log­i­cal, eco­nom­ic, and social fac­tors that have made it not just pos­si­ble but world-dom­i­nant — can you claim under­stand Amer­i­ca?

Relat­ed con­tent:

Watch Andy Warhol Eat an Entire Burg­er King Whop­per — While Wish­ing the Burg­er Came from McDonald’s (1981)

30,000 Peo­ple Line Up for the First McDonald’s in Moscow, While Gro­cery Store Shelves Run Emp­ty (1990)

How Eat­ing Ken­tucky Fried Chick­en Became a Christ­mas Tra­di­tion in Japan

The Hertel­la Cof­fee Machine Mount­ed on a Volk­swa­gen Dash­board (1959): The Most Euro­pean Car Acces­so­ry Ever Made

A Brief His­to­ry of the Great Amer­i­can Road Trip

McDonald’s Opens a Tiny Restau­rant — and It’s Only for Bees

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

How to Make Coffee in the Bialetti Moka Pot: The “Ultimate Techique”

In Italy, rough­ly 70% of house­holds have a Bialet­ti Moka Pot. And chances are you have one too. But are you using it the right way? Prob­a­bly not, says James Hoff­mann, the author of The World Atlas of Cof­feeAbove, he sets the record straight, demon­strat­ing the best tech­nique for mak­ing a great cup of cof­fee. Enjoy this pub­lic ser­vice announce­ment and use it well.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent

The Bialet­ti Moka Express: The His­to­ry of Italy’s Icon­ic Cof­fee Mak­er, and How to Use It the Right Way

Deep Fried Cof­fee: A Very Dis­turb­ing Dis­cov­ery

Life and Death of an Espres­so Shot in Super Slow Motion

The Birth of Espres­so: How the Cof­fee Shots The Fuel Our Mod­ern Life Were Invent­ed

An Espres­so Mak­er Made in Le Corbusier’s Bru­tal­ist Archi­tec­tur­al Style: Raw Con­crete on the Out­side, High-End Parts on the Inside

Philoso­phers Drink­ing Cof­fee: The Exces­sive Habits of Kant, Voltaire & Kierkegaard

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Deep Fried Coffee: A Very Disturbing Discovery

Deep fried cof­fee. Yes, it’s a thing, and cof­fee con­nois­seur James Hoff­mann decid­ed to give it a go. How did it turn out? We won’t spoil it for you–other than to say, don’t be sur­prised if deep fried cof­fee makes its way into a future edi­tion of Hoff­man­n’s book, The World Atlas of Cof­fee.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent 

“The Vertue of the COFFEE Drink”: An Ad for London’s First Cafe Print­ed Cir­ca 1652

Jim Henson’s Com­mer­cials for Wilkins Cof­fee: 15 Twist­ed Min­utes of Mup­pet Cof­fee Ads (1957–1961)

Every­thing You Ever Want­ed to Know about the Bialet­ti Moka Express: A Deep Dive Into Italy’s Most Pop­u­lar Cof­fee Mak­er

The Bialet­ti Moka Express: The His­to­ry of Italy’s Icon­ic Cof­fee Mak­er, and How to Use It the Right Way

Life and Death of an Espres­so Shot in Super Slow Motion

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A Relaxing, ASMR Re-Creation of People Cooking Thanksgiving Dinner in the 1820s

Amer­i­cans today can acquire every ele­ment of their Thanks­giv­ing din­ner prac­ti­cal­ly ready to eat, in need of lit­tle more than some heat before being set on the table. This very Thurs­day, in fact, many Amer­i­cans will no doubt do just that. But it was­n’t an option two cen­turies ago, espe­cial­ly for those who lived on the wild fron­tier. To see how they’d have put their Thanks­giv­ing din­ner togeth­er, you’ll want to con­sult one Youtube chan­nel in par­tic­u­lar: Ear­ly Amer­i­can, pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture for its videos re-cre­at­ing var­i­ous meals as they would have been pre­pared cir­ca 1820.

The cre­ators of Ear­ly Amer­i­can, Jus­tine Dorn and Ron Ray­field, also hap­pen to be a mar­ried cou­ple in real life. In their videos they appear to play his­tor­i­cal ver­sions of them­selves, adher­ing to the domes­tic divi­sion of labor cus­tom would have dic­tat­ed in rur­al Amer­i­ca of the ear­ly nine­teenth cen­tu­ry.

When Ron steps in the door with the fruits of a boun­ti­ful hunt, two rab­bits and a duck, Jus­tine knows just how to put them at the cen­ter of a full-fledged Thanks­giv­ing din­ner. This involves not just cook­ing the meat, but prepar­ing a vari­ety of accom­pa­ni­ments like cran­ber­ries, corn, mush­room gravy, and sweet pota­to pie.

All this hap­pens at the hearth, which demands a set of skills (and a set of tools, includ­ing an hour­glass) not nor­mal­ly pos­sessed by home-cook­ing enthu­si­asts of the twen­ty-twen­ties. But the meal that results will sure­ly look appe­tiz­ing even to mod­ern view­ers. Though Abra­ham Lin­coln made Thanks­giv­ing a nation­al hol­i­day in 1863, George Wash­ing­ton first issued a procla­ma­tion for “a day of pub­lic thanks­giv­ing and prayer” in 1789. And by that time, many of Thanks­giv­ing’s dish­es had already become estab­lished tra­di­tion. (Turkey and cran­ber­ry were linked togeth­er in the first Amer­i­can cook­book in 1796, NPR notes.) As always, Jus­tine pro­vides the orig­i­nal recipes (scant in detail though they often are) at the end. Use them well, it seems, and you can have a grand Thanks­giv­ing feast even if you don’t bring home a turkey.

Relat­ed con­tent:

The First Amer­i­can Cook­book: Sam­ple Recipes from Amer­i­can Cook­ery (1796)

Read 800+ Thanks­giv­ing Books Free at the Inter­net Archive

Mar­i­lyn Monroe’s Hand­writ­ten Turkey-and-Stuff­ing Recipe

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 13 Tips for What to Do with Your Left­over Thanks­giv­ing Turkey

The Illus­trat­ed Ver­sion of “Alice’s Restau­rant”: Watch Arlo Guthrie’s Thanks­giv­ing Coun­ter­cul­ture Clas­sic

What Amer­i­cans Ate for Break­fast & Din­ner 200 Years Ago: Watch Re-Cre­ations of Orig­i­nal Recipes

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Your Burning Questions About Coffee Answered by James Hoffmann

If you have a ques­tion about cof­fee, James Hoff­mann prob­a­bly has an answer. The author of The World Atlas of Cof­fee, Hoff­mann has devel­oped a robust YouTube chan­nel where he explores the ins-and-outs of mak­ing coffee–from how to buy great cof­fee, to mak­ing excel­lent cof­fee with The Chemex and the Bialet­ti Moka pot, to grind­ing cof­fee with the right gear. And don’t for­get the mag­ic of adding salt to cof­fee.

Above, in a new video cre­at­ed by Wired, Hoff­mann con­tin­ues his edu­ca­tion­al mis­sion, “answer[ing] the inter­net’s burn­ing ques­tions about cof­fee. What’s the dif­fer­ence between drip and pour over cof­fee? What’s the dif­fer­ence between iced cof­fee and cold brew? Does dark­er roast cof­fee have more caf­feine?” Tak­en togeth­er, he cov­ers a lot of ground in 22 min­utes.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Every­thing You Ever Want­ed to Know about the Bialet­ti Moka Express: A Deep Dive Into Italy’s Most Pop­u­lar Cof­fee Mak­er

The Bialet­ti Moka Express: The His­to­ry of Italy’s Icon­ic Cof­fee Mak­er, and How to Use It the Right Way

Life and Death of an Espres­so Shot in Super Slow Motion

Jim Henson’s Commercials for Wilkins Coffee: 15 Twisted Minutes of Muppet Coffee Ads (1957–1961)

Drink our cof­fee. Or else. That’s the mes­sage of these curi­ous­ly sadis­tic TV com­mer­cials pro­duced by Jim Hen­son between 1957 and 1961.

Hen­son made 179 ten-sec­ond spots for Wilkins Cof­fee, a region­al com­pa­ny with dis­tri­b­u­tion in the Bal­ti­more-Wash­ing­ton D.C. mar­ket, accord­ing to the Mup­pets Wiki: “The local sta­tions only had ten sec­onds for sta­tion iden­ti­fi­ca­tion, so the Mup­pet com­mer­cials had to be lightning-fast–essentially, eight sec­onds for the com­mer­cial pitch and a two-sec­ond shot of the prod­uct.”

With­in those eight sec­onds, a cof­fee enthu­si­ast named Wilkins (who bears a resem­blance to Ker­mit the frog) man­ages to shoot, stab, blud­geon or oth­er­wise do grave bod­i­ly harm to a cof­fee hold­out named Won­tkins. Hen­son pro­vid­ed the voic­es of both char­ac­ters.

Up until that time, TV adver­tis­ers typ­i­cal­ly made a direct sales pitch. “We took a dif­fer­ent approach,” said Hen­son in Christo­pher Finch’s Of Mup­pets and Men: The Mak­ing of the Mup­pet Show. “We tried to sell things by mak­ing peo­ple laugh.”

The cam­paign for Wilkins Cof­fee was a hit. “In terms of pop­u­lar­i­ty of com­mer­cials in the Wash­ing­ton area,” said Hen­son in a 1982 inter­view with Judy Har­ris, “we were the num­ber one, the most pop­u­lar com­mer­cial.” Hen­son’s ad agency began mar­ket­ing the idea to oth­er region­al cof­fee com­pa­nies around the coun­try. Hen­son re-shot the same spots with dif­fer­ent brand names. “I bought my con­tract from that agency,” said Hen­son, “and then I was pro­duc­ing them–the same things around the coun­try. And so we had up to about a dozen or so clients going at the same time. At the point, I was mak­ing a lot of mon­ey.”

If you’re a glut­ton for pun­ish­ment, you can watch many of the Wilkins Cof­fee com­mer­cials above. And a word of advice: If some­one ever asks you if you drink Wilkins Cof­fee, just say yes.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Jim Hen­son Teach­es You How to Make Pup­pets in Vin­tage Primer From 1969

Jim Hen­son Cre­ates an Exper­i­men­tal Ani­ma­tion Explain­ing How We Get Ideas (1966)

Jim Henson’s Orig­i­nal, Spunky Pitch for The Mup­pet Show

Jim Henson’s Zany 1963 Robot Film Uncov­ered by AT&T: Watch Online

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10,000 Vintage Recipe Books Are Now Digitized in The Internet Archive’s Cookbook & Home Economics Collection

“Ear­ly cook­books were fit for kings,” writes Hen­ry Notak­er at The Atlantic. “The old­est pub­lished recipe col­lec­tions” in the 15th and 16th cen­turies in West­ern Europe “emanat­ed from the palaces of mon­archs, princes, and grand señores.” Cook­books were more than recipe collections—they were guides to court eti­quette and sump­tu­ous records of lux­u­ri­ous liv­ing. In ancient Rome, cook­books func­tioned sim­i­lar­ly, as the extrav­a­gant fourth cen­tu­ry Cook­ing and Din­ing in Impe­r­i­al Rome demon­strates.

Writ­ten by Api­cius, “Europe’s old­est [cook­book] and Rome’s only one in exis­tence today”—as its first Eng­lish trans­la­tor described it—offers “a bet­ter way of know­ing old Rome and antique pri­vate life.” It also offers keen insight into the devel­op­ment of heav­i­ly fla­vored dish­es before the age of refrig­er­a­tion. Api­cus rec­om­mends that “cooks who need­ed to pre­pare birds with a ‘goat­ish smell’ should bathe them in a mix­ture of pep­per, lovage, thyme, dry mint, sage, dates, hon­ey, vine­gar, broth, oil and mus­tard,” Melanie Radz­ic­ki McManus notes at How Stuff Works.

Ear­ly cook­books com­mu­ni­cat­ed in “a folksy, impre­cise man­ner until the Indus­tri­al Rev­o­lu­tion of the 1800s,” when stan­dard (or met­ric) mea­sure­ment became de rigueur. The first cook­book by an Amer­i­can, Amelia Sim­mons’ 1796 Amer­i­can Cook­ery, placed British fine din­ing and lav­ish “Queen’s Cake” next to “john­ny cake, fed­er­al pan cake, buck­wheat cake, and Indi­an slap­jack,” Kei­th Stave­ly and Kath­leen Fitzger­ald write at Smith­son­ian, all recipes sym­bol­iz­ing “the plain, but well-run and boun­ti­ful Amer­i­can home.” With this book, “a dia­logue on how to bal­ance the sump­tu­ous with the sim­ple in Amer­i­can life had begun.”

Cook­books are win­dows into history—markers of class and caste, doc­u­ments of dai­ly life, and snap­shots of region­al and cul­tur­al iden­ti­ty at par­tic­u­lar moments in time. In 1950, the first cook­book writ­ten by a fic­tion­al lifestyle celebri­ty, Bet­ty Crock­er, debuted. It became “a nation­al best-sell­er,” McManus writes. “It even sold more copies that year than the Bible.” The image of the per­fect Step­ford house­wife may have been big­ger than Jesus in the 50s, but Crock­er’s career was decades in the mak­ing. She debuted in 1921, the year of pub­li­ca­tion for anoth­er, more hum­ble recipe book: the Pil­grim Evan­gel­i­cal Luther­an Church Ladies’ Aid Soci­ety of Chicago’s Pil­grim Cook Book.

As Ayun Hal­l­i­day not­ed in an ear­li­er post, this charm­ing col­lec­tion fea­tures recipes for “Blitz Torte, Cough Syrup, and Sauer­kraut Can­dy,” and it’s only one of thou­sands of such exam­ples at the Inter­net Archive’s Cook­book and Home Eco­nom­ics Col­lec­tion, drawn from dig­i­tized spe­cial col­lec­tions at UCLA, Berke­ley, and the Prelinger Library. When we last checked in, the col­lec­tion fea­tured 3,000 cook­books. It has grown since 2016 to a library of 10,600 vin­tage exam­ples of home­spun Amer­i­cana, fine din­ing, and mass mar­ket­ing.

Laugh at gag-induc­ing recipes of old; cringe at the pious advice giv­en to women osten­si­bly anx­ious to please their hus­bands; and mar­vel at how var­i­ous inter­na­tion­al and region­al cuisines have been rep­re­sent­ed to unsus­pect­ing Amer­i­can home cooks. (It’s hard to say whether the cov­er or the con­tents of a Chi­nese Cook Book in Plain Eng­lish from 1917 seem more offen­sive.) Cook­books of recipes from the Amer­i­can South are pop­u­lar, as are cov­ers fea­tur­ing stereo­typ­i­cal “mam­my” char­ac­ters. A more respect­ful inter­na­tion­al exam­ple, 1952’s Luchow’s Ger­man Cook­book gives us “the sto­ry and the favorite dish­es of Amer­i­ca’s most famous Ger­man restau­rant.”

There are guides to mush­rooms and “com­mon­er fun­gi, with spe­cial empha­sis on the edi­ble vari­eties”; col­lec­tions of “things moth­er used to make” and, most prac­ti­cal­ly, a cook­book for left­overs. And there is every oth­er sort of cook­book and home ec. man­u­al you could imag­ine. The archive is stuffed with help­ful hints, rare ingre­di­ents, unex­pect­ed region­al cook­eries, and mil­lions of minute details about the habits of these books’ first hun­gry read­ers.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2020.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The New York Times Makes 17,000 Tasty Recipes Avail­able Online: Japan­ese, Ital­ian, Thai & Much More

Archive of Hand­writ­ten Recipes (1600 – 1960) Will Teach You How to Stew a Calf’s Head and More

A Data­base of 5,000 His­tor­i­cal Cookbooks–Covering 1,000 Years of Food History–Is Now Online

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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What Happens When Mortals Try to Drink Winston Churchill’s Daily Intake of Alcohol

I have tak­en more out of alco­hol than alco­hol has tak­en out of me. — Win­ston Churchill

Win­ston Churchill had a rep­u­ta­tion as a bril­liant states­man and a prodi­gious drinker.

The for­mer prime min­is­ter imbibed through­out the day, every day.  He also burned through 10 dai­ly cig­ars, and lived to the ripe old age of 90.

His come­back to Field Mar­shal Bernard Mont­gomery’s boast that he nei­ther smoked nor drank, and was 100 per­cent fit was “I drink and smoke, and I am 200 per­cent fit.”

First Lady Eleanor Roo­sevelt mar­veled “that any­one could smoke so much and drink so much and keep per­fect­ly well.”

In No More Cham­pagne: Churchill and His Mon­ey, author David Lough doc­u­ments Churchill’s dis­as­trous alco­hol expens­es, as well as the bot­tle count at Chartwell, his Ken­tish res­i­dence. Here’s the tal­ly for March 24,1937:

180 bot­tles and 30 half bot­tles of Pol Roger cham­pagne

20 bot­tles and 9 half bot­tles of oth­er cham­pagne

100+ bot­tles of claret

117 bot­tles and 389 half bot­tles of Barsac

13 bot­tles of brandy

5 bot­tles of cham­pagne brandy

7 bot­tles of liqueur whisky


All that liquor was not going to drink itself.

Did Churchill have a hol­low leg?  An extra­or­di­nar­i­ly high tol­er­ance? An uncan­ny abil­i­ty to mask his intox­i­ca­tion?

Whiskey som­me­li­er Rex Williams, a founder of the Whiskey Tribe YouTube chan­nel, and pod­cast host Andrew Heaton endeav­or to find out, above, by ded­i­cat­ing a day to the British Bulldog’s drink­ing reg­i­men.

They’re not the first to under­take such a fol­ly.

The Dai­ly Telegraph’s Har­ry Wal­lop doc­u­ment­ed a sim­i­lar adven­ture in 2015, wind­ing up queasy, and to judge by his 200 spelling mis­takes, cog­ni­tive­ly impaired.

Williams and Heaton’s on-cam­era exper­i­ment achieves a Drunk His­to­ry vibe and tell­tale flushed cheeks.

Here’s the drill, not that we advise try­ing it at home:

BREAKFAST

An eye open­er of John­nie Walk­er Red — just a splash — mixed with soda water to the rim.

Fol­low with more of the same through­out the morn­ing.

This is how Churchill, who often con­duct­ed his morn­ing busi­ness abed in a dress­ing gown, man­aged to aver­age between 1 — 3 ounces of alco­hol before lunch.

Appar­ent­ly he devel­oped a taste for it as a young sol­dier post­ed in what is now Pak­istan, when Scotch not only improved the fla­vor of plain water, ‘once one got the knack of it, the very repul­sion from the fla­vor devel­oped an attrac­tion of its own.”

After a morn­ing spent sip­ping the stuff, Heaton reports feel­ing “play­ful and jokey, but not yet vio­lent.”

LUNCH

Time for “an ambi­tious quo­ta of cham­pagne!”

Churchill’s pre­ferred brand was Pol Roger, though he wasn’t averse to Giesler, Moet et Chan­don, or Pom­mery,  pur­chased from the upscale wine and spir­its mer­chant Ran­dolph Payne & Sons,  whose let­ter­head iden­ti­fied them as sup­pli­ers to “Her Majesty The Late Queen Vic­to­ria and to The Late King William The Fourth.”

Churchill enjoyed his impe­r­i­al pint of cham­pagne from a sil­ver tankard, like a “prop­er Edwar­dian gent” accord­ing to his life­long friend, Odette Pol-Roger.

Williams and Heaton take theirs in flutes accom­pa­nied by fish sticks from the freez­er case. This is the point beyond which a hang­over is all but assured.

Lunch con­cludes with a post-pran­di­al cognac, to set­tle the stom­ach and begin the diges­tion process.

Churchill, who declared him­self a man of sim­ple tastes — I am eas­i­ly sat­is­fied with the best — would have insist­ed on some­thing from the house of Hine.

RESTORATIVE  AFTERNOON NAP

This seems to be a crit­i­cal ele­ment of Churchill’s alco­hol man­age­ment suc­cess. He fre­quent­ly allowed him­self as much as 90 min­utes to clear the cob­webs.

A nap def­i­nite­ly pulls our re-enac­tors out of their tail spins. Heaton emerges ready to “bluff (his) way through a meet­ing.”

TEATIME

I guess we can call it that, giv­en the tim­ing.

No tea though.

Just a steady stream of extreme­ly weak scotch and sodas to take the edge off of admin­is­tra­tive tasks.

DINNER

More cham­pagne!!! More cognac!!!

“This should be the apex of our wit,” a bleary Heaton tells his belch­ing com­pan­ion, who fess­es up to vom­it­ing upon wak­ing the next day.

Their con­clu­sion? Churchill’s reg­i­men is unmanageable…at least for them.

And pos­si­bly also for Churchill.

As fel­low Scotch enthu­si­ast Christo­pher Hitchens revealed in a 2002 arti­cle in The Atlantic, some of Churchill’s most famous radio broad­casts, includ­ing his famous pledge to “fight on the beach­es” after the Mir­a­cle of Dunkirk, were voiced by a pinch hit­ter:

Nor­man Shel­ley, who played Win­nie-the-Pooh for the BBC’s Children’s Hour, ven­tril­o­quized Churchill for his­to­ry and fooled mil­lions of lis­ten­ers. Per­haps Churchill was too much inca­pac­i­tat­ed by drink to deliv­er the speech­es him­self.

Or per­haps the great man mere­ly felt he’d earned the right to unwind with a class of Graham’s Vin­tage Char­ac­ter Port, a Fine Old Amon­til­la­do Sher­ry or a Fine Old Liquor brandy, as was his wont.

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Win­ston Churchill’s Paint­ings: Great States­man, Sur­pris­ing­ly Good Artist

Win­ston Churchill Gets a Doctor’s Note to Drink “Unlim­it­ed” Alco­hol in Pro­hi­bi­tion Amer­i­ca (1932)

Win­ston Churchill Goes Back­ward Down a Water Slide & Los­es His Trunks (1934)

- Ayun Hal­l­i­day is the Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine and author, most recent­ly, of Cre­ative, Not Famous: The Small Pota­to Man­i­festo.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

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