Russian Tea

A recipe I got from my mother, who got it in turn from her mother.

Russian Tea
2 c Tang
1/2 c sugar
1/2 c instant tea
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp ginger
1/2 tsp cloves
1/2 tsp nutmeg

I think I've got the measurements correct, as the recipe exists only on the back of a faded yellow 3x5 index card I found in the kitchen cupboard today. It runs in the family, I guess. As is common for my family's methods of record keeping, all the particulars are defined explicitly but contain no real instruction on why they are significant. These ingredients, as I recall, are to be thoroughly mixed and then stored in a jar in your cupboard, forgotten for months on end. When you finally get around to remembering you have it, the sugar crystals will have locked into a solid mass of orange gunk, which you have to break up with a spoon, liberally pour into a ceramic coffee mug, and then dissolve in boiling hot water. Serve with a lemon if you're fancy, Mr. Rockefeller.

The spice in this drink is unforgettable and it was something that mom would always make for me when I was sick, so this became a staple beverage during cold and flu season and became indelibly imprinted in my brain. I happened to have a grown-up version of Russian Tea when I was at The Sapphire Hotel, drinking a cocktail they called The Promise Breaker. It was a whiskey-based concoction served with an orange slice that undoubtedly contained the same notes of clove and ginger I remember growing up.