How to make eggnog

Let Bing sing about a white Christmas, if he insists. My kind of Christmas is more eggnog-toned: yellowy, like old-fashioned incandescent string lights; rich, like real velvet ribbon on presents; topped with pale froth of the most non-utilitarian and fluffy kind; sweet, with a kick of rum or bourbon to redeem it from sentimentality; stippled with a dark sprinkling of freshly grated nutmeg on top to ginger up the olfactory receptors.

Uncanonical as it may be to view this time of year through an eggnog-tinted lens, it seems to me that food and wassail are more essential to Christmas than snow. What is the celebration without culinary traditions, even though one man’s festive favourite may be another’s pet peeve? Fruitcake, for instance, is both beloved and loathed (for me it’s definitely beloved, especially when coated in a heavy layer of marzipan). I am sure there are people who dislike eggnog, but 135m lb of it are sold in America every festive season, showing that the beverage’s charms are well appreciated in the nation it has come to be associated with (though it is believed to have its roots in 13th century England).