Apple Cider Hot Toddy

i have a big announcement.


i totally like whiskey. if it’s combined with cinnamon and cloves and apple cider and some honey and i can’t taste anything because i have a horrible head cold, i totally dig it. i’ll chug it right down the tube. i’m your little whiskey girlllll, i’m your little whiskeyyyy girl. and now you’re probably wondering whether i chugged a bit before writing this post, huh? of course not – i’m chugging sauvignon blanc. the shock, i know. but it’s monday.

i had a cold a couple of weeks ago. naturally, the same week that i was about to go on two different trips and be home for one whole day in between said trips. because that’s just the way the snot rolls. (don’t punch me). and one day i woke up and felt like an elephant was sitting on top of my head. you know how it goes – no one can tell you’re sick yet, but you know what’s coming. you know that breathing out of your nose is about to become the thing you have most taken for granted in your entire life. and being able to take deep breaths without coughing like a wild animal and your chest burning on fire is a luxury you never fully appreciated.


i love when people say “oh there’s something going around.” just because your aunt carla and cousin ed happen to have a cold right now doesn’t mean there’s a mysterious thing that has slaughtered my immune system and left me incapable of inhaling. and even if there is, they’re three states away – their thing isn’t my thing. it’s a totally different thing and mine is so much worse and so everyone should just take complete pity on me and bring me chicken noodle soup. but only that kind from the red box with the tiny noodles. and extra hot. oh and the fancy kleenex, the ones with the lotion in them.

so i called my grandma. i should’ve known the answer would be – whiskey. if you know my grandma, which i’m going to hazard to guess that a few of you do because my grandma is known around town. well, not like that. don’t talk about my grandma like that. she just is someone who you can’t meet and not remember. she’s too vivacious. i know, it’s weird that i missed those genes.


anyway, she’s a hot toddy believer. and who am i to correct her? i’m not a whiskey girl traditionally but i was high as a kite off mucinex and thought if there was ever a time to try it, it’s when you’re on your fourth box of kleenex could practically pour sriracha down your throat and not taste it.

so bottoms up.


and i liked it. i loved it. i drank it right down and grandma doesn’t lie, it soothed my throat in ways that bottles of cold medicine couldn’t do.

so i figured i should dress it up. put a little fall in the toddy. then the stars aligned, destiny struck and i found this recipe from the little epicurean.

do ittttt. oh you don’t have to have a “thing.” it’s like having an apple a day <—- see what i did there?! it’ll keep the things away.

slay me.




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