Here are 100 books that And a Bottle of Rum fans have personally recommended if you like
And a Bottle of Rum.
Book DNA is a community of 12,000+ authors and super readers sharing their favorite books with the world.
I’ve been writing about cocktails and spirits for over a decade, often in collaboration with my mixologist husband and co-author, John McCarthy. Our mission is to create delicious, practical cocktail recipes for the home bartender. There are a number of cocktail books out there, but they usually fall into two camps. Novelty books, which are often silly and untested. Or books written by professionals, for professionals, impractical if you don’t have a centrifuge, dehydrator, and 300-odd liqueurs in your home bar. What about the vast middle ground–people who love cocktails, want to make them at home, and learn something while they’re sipping? We believe in finding the best books for them.
Without a doubt, David Wondrich is the preeminent cocktail historian of our time. If that doesn’t sound like a real thing…well, just start reading his work.
No one else has his mastery of our drinking history or a gift for communicating all its twists and turns. Every book he’s written is a great read, but this book is the best jumping-off point, following the story of mid-19th-century bartender Jerry Thomas with colorful tales and excellent recipes.
The newly updated edition of David Wondrich’s definitive guide to classic American cocktails.
Cocktail writer and historian David Wondrich presents the colorful, little-known history of classic American drinks--and the ultimate mixologist's guide--in this engaging homage to Jerry Thomas, father of the American bar.
Wondrich reveals never-before-published details and stories about this larger-than-life nineteenth-century figure, along with definitive recipes for more than 100 punches, cocktails, sours, fizzes, toddies, slings, and other essential drinks, along with detailed historical and mixological notes.
The first edition, published in 2007, won a James Beard Award. Now updated with newly discovered recipes and historical information,…
A moving story of love, betrayal, and the enduring power of hope in the face of darkness.
German pianist Hedda Schlagel's world collapsed when her fiancé, Fritz, vanished after being sent to an enemy alien camp in the United States during the Great War. Fifteen years later, in 1932, Hedda…
Nightclubs and country clubs figured in my father’s business distributing snack foods in post-WWII “Steel City,” Pittsburgh, where I was served “Shirley Temple” cocktails in martini glasses alongside my parents’ Manhattans. (To my five- and six-year-old eye, the trophy was the maraschino cherry.) Decades later, teaching American literature in the university, my interest deepened in Jack London’s writing, and my book on him demanded close attention to the history of US cocktails and other drinks. London’s memoir, John Barleycorn, frankly details his drinking and eventual capture by alcohol. As a scholar-researcher, I was “captured” by the backstory of US cocktail culture.
Order a Martini (straight up, or with ice chiming against the glass), then settle with this charming book and the “quintessential cocktail” that merits its own chapter in the imbiber’s US history tour. Grimes wears learning lightly while pointing out the cultural vagaries over four centuries of pleasurable distillation, brewing, and fermentation. Who knew the American Revolution was first fomented in 1700s village taverns? Or that the familiar Gilded Age “Bronx” (named by the Waldorf-Astoria’s master mixologist) was the very first cocktail to use fruit juice?
Author Grimes chides the 1960s Yuppies (a.k.a. young urban professionals) for purist insistence on “imported beer” and “the rarest of single-malt Scotches,” but concludes the country and the cocktail survived and are all the better for it. He gets no argument from me!
The cocktail is as old as the nation that invented it, yet until this entertaining and authoritative account, its story had never been fully told. William Grimes traces the evolution of American drink from the anything-goes concoctions of the Colonial era to the frozen margarita, spiking his meticulously researched narrative with arresting details, odd facts, and colorful figures.
The book includes about one hundred recipes--half of them new for this edition--for both classics and innovations.
Nightclubs and country clubs figured in my father’s business distributing snack foods in post-WWII “Steel City,” Pittsburgh, where I was served “Shirley Temple” cocktails in martini glasses alongside my parents’ Manhattans. (To my five- and six-year-old eye, the trophy was the maraschino cherry.) Decades later, teaching American literature in the university, my interest deepened in Jack London’s writing, and my book on him demanded close attention to the history of US cocktails and other drinks. London’s memoir, John Barleycorn, frankly details his drinking and eventual capture by alcohol. As a scholar-researcher, I was “captured” by the backstory of US cocktail culture.
Whiskeys rule, but the modern bar dare not lack a battery of bitters that extend beyond from the familiar Angostura and Peychaud’s. By the “dash,” cocktails demand bitters which, all too often, appear to be an afterthought. (Yet my New Orleans-born Sazerac cocktail would taste “off” without Peychaud’s and my favorite Old Fashioned unthinkable without two dashes of time-honored Angostura.)
Bitters inducts us into the realm of these botanical “drugs” distilled from flowers, spices, citrus peels, tree bark—all originally dispensed in apothecary shops as cures for digestive woes, stomach troubles, even gout. By the Gilded Age, bitters transited to the bar under brands sounding sketchy (e.g. Flint’s Quaker Bitters), but Bitters opens a new botanical wonderland for my armchair imagining, and for others’ venturesome do-it-yourself distillation. Key Lime Bitters, anyone?
Gone are the days when a lonely bottle of Angostura bitters held court behind the bar. A cocktail renaissance has swept across the country, inspiring in bartenders and their thirsty patrons a new fascination with the ingredients, techniques, and traditions that make the American cocktail so special. And few ingredients have as rich a history or serve as fundamental a role in our beverage heritage as bitters.
Author and bitters enthusiast Brad Thomas Parsons traces the history of the world’s most storied elixir, from its earliest “snake oil” days to its near evaporation after Prohibition to its ascension as…
In 1913, a 15-year-old pregnant girl was found dead of apparent suicide. Dr. James Wilson, a new graduate and the first doctor ever to start a practice in this rural town, feels guilty over her death because of his delayed intervention.
Nightclubs and country clubs figured in my father’s business distributing snack foods in post-WWII “Steel City,” Pittsburgh, where I was served “Shirley Temple” cocktails in martini glasses alongside my parents’ Manhattans. (To my five- and six-year-old eye, the trophy was the maraschino cherry.) Decades later, teaching American literature in the university, my interest deepened in Jack London’s writing, and my book on him demanded close attention to the history of US cocktails and other drinks. London’s memoir, John Barleycorn, frankly details his drinking and eventual capture by alcohol. As a scholar-researcher, I was “captured” by the backstory of US cocktail culture.
Double duty as a bar book and memoir makes Crockett’s chronicle my must for skillfully conjuring two historical moments: the Golden Age of Cocktails (a.k.a. the Gilded Age) and the dark era of Prohibition. Anxious that memories of delectable cocktails and their recipes had been buried in the crypt of Prohibition’s thirteen years (1920-1933), journalist Crockett hastened to record and revive the drinks. His history is spot-on, and his fury at the nation’s failed “Noble Experiment” of Prohibition fuels this survivor’s fine wordsmithing.
Crockett was a prominent journalist, writer and publicist. He contributed many observations on New York City nightlife during Prohibition, especially regarding the social life of the Waldorf-Astoria. This collection provides 500 cocktail recipes served at the Waldorf and is one of the first post-Prohibition books of its kind.
The author also provides glimpses of the history of the renowned bar, where he served as the historian of the Old Waldorf Astoria.
In the summer of 1995, I was a graduate student at the University of Florida conducting archaeological investigations in Barbados. One July morning, I was called to look at some skeletal remains that workers had uncovered at a construction site in the capital city of Bridgetown. What the workers had uncovered was an unmarked and long-forgotten burial ground for enslaved peoples of the city in the early colonial days. With help from the laborers, we carefully excavated and recorded the cemetery. An older gentleman among the crowd brought a bottle of rum and poured it into the excavation trenches, asking that the spirits of those buried there “rest in peace.”
Chávez’s background in business and marketing offers a refreshing perspective on the history of Cuban rum and the geopolitics of the Cuban rum trade. Chávez is particularly interested in the marketing of Havana Club and the inherent contradictions that exist when a communist government enters the fray of international market capitalism. Havana Club sheds light on the Cuban government’s efforts to market itself in the modern era.
According to Chávez, Havana Club is a product of “cultural diplomacy” that has helped to “reintegrate” Cuba into international markets. As a commodity, Havana Club celebrates Cuban culture, and it has helped raise the profile of Cuba in the global cultural arena. Chávez also plays with the idea of rum authenticity in provocative ways.
Focusing on Havana Club rum as a case study, Isle of Rum examines the ways in which Western cultural producers, working in collaboration with the Cuban state, have assumed responsibility for representing Cuba to the outside world. Christopher ChAvez focuses specifically on the role of advertising practitioners, musicians, filmmakers, and visual artists, who stand to benefit economically by selling an image of Cuba to consumers who desperately crave authentic experiences that exist outside of the purview of the marketplace.
Rather than laying claim to authentic Cuban culture, ChAvez explores which aspects of Cuban culture are deemed most compelling and, therefore,…
In the summer of 1995, I was a graduate student at the University of Florida conducting archaeological investigations in Barbados. One July morning, I was called to look at some skeletal remains that workers had uncovered at a construction site in the capital city of Bridgetown. What the workers had uncovered was an unmarked and long-forgotten burial ground for enslaved peoples of the city in the early colonial days. With help from the laborers, we carefully excavated and recorded the cemetery. An older gentleman among the crowd brought a bottle of rum and poured it into the excavation trenches, asking that the spirits of those buried there “rest in peace.”
What made this book so interesting was Nesbitt’s investigation into the way rum has been used as a literary device. References to rum in novels, short stories, music, and other forms of popular culture allow Nesbitt to expose the way rum has shaped historical constructs of colonialism, racism, and patriarchy in the Caribbean.
For example, Nesbitt juxtaposes characters from Hunter S. Thompson’s The Rum Diaries (1998) with characters in V.S. Naipaul’s Miguel Street (1959) to expose the way sexism and masculine drinking practices reinforce colonialist and imperialist tropes of the Caribbean as a dangerous place stuck in an unchanging cycle of alcoholic malaise. In Jean Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea (1966), references to rum reveal insights into colonial expectations of feminine respectability.
As a literary device, rum makes the Caribbean exotic, which has been used to demonize and eroticize Caribbean peoples. Rum was born in the coercive and dangerous environment of…
When you drink rum, you drink history. More than merely a popular spirit in the transatlantic, rum became a cultural symbol of the Caribbean. While rum is often dismissed as set dressing in texts about the region, the historical and moral associations of alcohol generally-and rum specifically-cue powerful stereotypes, from touristic hedonism to social degeneracy.
Rum Histories examines the drink in anglophone Atlantic literature in the period of decolonization to complicate and elevate the symbolic currency of a commodity that in fact reflects the persistence of colonialism in shaping the material and mental lives of postcolonial subjects.
Voyager 1 was launched on September 5, 1977, and Voyager 2 was launched on August 20, 1977. Both began a historic journey with unique 'time capsules' on board intended to communicate a story of our world to extraterrestrials. The Voyager message is carried by a phonograph record 12-inch gold-plated disk…
In the summer of 1995, I was a graduate student at the University of Florida conducting archaeological investigations in Barbados. One July morning, I was called to look at some skeletal remains that workers had uncovered at a construction site in the capital city of Bridgetown. What the workers had uncovered was an unmarked and long-forgotten burial ground for enslaved peoples of the city in the early colonial days. With help from the laborers, we carefully excavated and recorded the cemetery. An older gentleman among the crowd brought a bottle of rum and poured it into the excavation trenches, asking that the spirits of those buried there “rest in peace.”
I found this book interesting for its medical and psychological focus. While studies of the negative consequences of excessive drinking in the early United States have focused primarily on the societal impact of drunkenness, Osborn explores the medicalization and epidemiological debates surrounding the treatment for intemperance in the early American Republic.
Drawing primarily on the writings of early Philadelphia physicians, Osborn explores the challenges of defining and treating alcoholics and highlights the debilitating ailments that those receiving treatment faced, including hallucinations and delirium tremens. The writings of physicians, such as the renowned Philadelphia physician and temperance advocate Benjamin Rush, offer a unique medical perspective on the history of alcohol abuse and treatment. Osborn also explores how the discourse on intemperance was tied to broader cultural concerns about the strength and character of the new American Republic.
Edgar Allan Poe vividly recalls standing in a prison cell, fearing for his life, as he watched men mutilate and dismember the body of his mother. That memory, however graphic and horrifying, was not real. It was a hallucination, one of many suffered by the writer, caused by his addiction to alcohol. In Rum Maniacs, Matthew Warner Osborn reveals how and why pathological drinking became a subject of medical interest, social controversy, and lurid fascination in the early American republic. At the heart of that story is the disease that Poe suffered: delirium tremens. First described in 1813, delirium tremens…
In the summer of 1995, I was a graduate student at the University of Florida conducting archaeological investigations in Barbados. One July morning, I was called to look at some skeletal remains that workers had uncovered at a construction site in the capital city of Bridgetown. What the workers had uncovered was an unmarked and long-forgotten burial ground for enslaved peoples of the city in the early colonial days. With help from the laborers, we carefully excavated and recorded the cemetery. An older gentleman among the crowd brought a bottle of rum and poured it into the excavation trenches, asking that the spirits of those buried there “rest in peace.”
Mancall’s background as an economic historian of the Atlantic world provides an interesting take on early interactions between European colonists and Native Americans in the early New World colonies. As an anthropologist, I am always pleased to see historians, especially economic historians, integrate ethnographic evidence and anthropological literature into their research.
In this book, Mancall explores the way rum and other alcoholic beverages connected Native peoples in North America to broader Atlantic markets. Moreover, Mancall highlights the way rum connected the plight of enslaved peoples in the Caribbean to the plight of Native peoples in colonial North America.
"An important work of scholarship, with powerful, concise, and objective insights into the complicated history of alcohol use among Native American peoples. Impeccably researched, cogently argued and clearly written, Peter Mancall's book is both an eye-opener for the lay reader and an invaluable resource for the expert."- Michael Dorris, author of The Broken Cord: A Family's Ongoing Struggle with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome
Alcohol abuse has killed and impoverished American Indians since the seventeenth century, when European settlers began trading rum for furs. In the first book to probe the origins of this ongoing social crisis, Peter C. Mancall explores…
I am now considered by many as the expert on creating allergy-free and allergy-friendly gardens and landscapes. I have lectured on the subject all across the US and Canada, and also in Israel, Ireland, the United Kingdom, New Zealand, and Australia. For 30+ years now I’ve been researching the connections between urban landscaping and allergies and asthma. My articles have appeared in dozens of fine publications, including The New York Times, The London Times, The Guardian, The Los Angeles Times, Atlas Obscura, Scientific American, Der Spiegel, and The New Scientist. I have owned two nurseries and taught horticulture for twenty years.
Airborne and Allergenic Pollen of North America was the most important book I read (out of hundreds) when I was doing my original research for my own book. The material is extensive, accurate, scientific, and yet it is quite readable. Unlike so many other books, papers, or articles on pollen and allergy, this book takes into consideration all of the plants grown in North America, not just the trees. A classic, and yet, still the very best.
Deputy Jenna Hart has only been working in her sleepy hometown of Pearl Springs for seven months when city officials begin to be targeted by a killer. Twenty years ago, the construction of a dam caused people to lose their land to eminent domain. That wound has not healed with…
As an author who is also a patent attorney and an engineer, I often deal with projects that are the closest thing to science fiction. That is one of the driving forces behind my urge to write science fiction. However, I very much prefer realistic stories that may potentially come true to hard science fiction with intergalactic travel, robots all over, and time machines (although I have written space opera and a few other hardcore SF tales, and must admit having had fun with them). Still, I like realistic science fiction much more. It leaves more room for character development, and I find myself engrossed in it more easily.
Robert Heinlein excels himself in this story narrated in the first person by a young woman, who is not really a human but rather a synthetic person but one you can relate to. Published in 1982, when much of the technology it describes was not yet in the realm of possibility, this book shows us an image of a chaotic world that may well be in our future. Serious issues sprinkled through this book’s pages are hidden between fun, fast action, a bit of licentious behavior, and some absurdity. Fun is guaranteed.
A CAEZIK Notable book. CAEZIK Notables is a series of speculative-fiction books marking important milestones in science fiction or fantasy. Each book published in the series has a new introduction highlighting the book’s significance within the genre.
“A charming protagonist in a story as sleekly engineered as a starship. This one should fly.”―Publishers Weekly
Friday is a secret courier and ardent lover. Employed by a man she only knows of as “Boss”, she is given the most awkward and dangerous cases, which take her from New Zealand to Canada, and through the new States of America’s disunion, all the way…
