THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Monday, February 5, 1996 TAG: 9602050041
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Guy Friddell
TYPE: Column
LENGTH: Medium: 57 lines
The state auditor frowns upon the late Friday sherry hour for staffs of the president and provost at The College of William and Mary.
Fie upon whoever complained about the custom on a hot line to state government. The use of alcohol in state offices is not forbidden by law, but it is addressed in policies issued by the state Department of Personnel and Training, the auditor said.
Virginians dote on tradition, and three years ago William and Mary President Timothy J. Sullivan revived the sherry-sipping introduced by James Blair, primary founder of the college in Williamsburg.
At 4:30 p.m. Friday, staff members gather in the Brafferton building, circa 1723, for sherry and tea, homemade cookies and civil discussion of what took place during the week and what lies ahead.
Perhaps I can put some healthy perspective on the riffle. My first thought was that the company might adjourn to one of Colonial Williamsburg's historic taverns, sites where the founding fathers conferred to overthrow the British crown.
Indeed, in one tavern, Patrick Henry concluded a rebellious oration by shouting, ``If this be treason make the most of it!''
Another alternative would have the company turn to old-fashioned syllabub, as delectable as it sounds, confected with whipped cream, whipped egg whites, a squirt of lemon, maybe a sprinkling of nutmeg for all I know - there are many intriguing variations - and a flavoring of sherry.
Refrigerated 24 hours and eaten with a spoon, it is refreshing, nourishing, a light delicacy favored of yore as a ladies' drink.
Another solution that hit me was my mother's fruitcake, a dark version of rum and raisins held together sponge-like by a smattering of batter.
You knew the moment you took a mouthful that you were in the grip of what The Reader's Digest calls an unforgettable experience.
That fruitcake was a caution from the first mixing of rum and raisins and it gained potency as it was allowed to set, as my mother said, and ruminate or ferment.
First tasting it, a body was apt to begin choking and coughing so that his companions had best pound his back and thrust his head through a hurriedly opened window to bring him around.
At some point in a family festivity, someone, biting into the highly fortified fruitcake, would be moved to shout: ``Good people, a toast!'' To which another taster would shout, ``To the Republic!'' And yet others, ``To the New Deal,'' or ``Ruination to Roosevelt!'' or whatever was on their minds.
And they would all imbibe - or munch - rum-riven, raisin-ridden fruitcake.
It was a sobering revelation, as it would be if sampled by William and Mary scholars or, for that matter, by the state auditor. by CNB