It’s 1773. You’re a colonist. You’re mad about taxes. So what do you do? You dress like a Mohawk, dump some overpriced British tea into the harbor, and spark a revolution. The Boston Tea Party wasn’t just a protest—it was a breakup. And America was ready to rebound.
Enter: alcohol. Colonists were knocking back 34 gallons of beer and cider a year. Yes, each. Water was sketchy, so booze was basically hydration. Taverns were bars, post offices, and Twitter all rolled into one. Founding Fathers weren’t just distilling freedom—they were distilling actual liquor. George Washington had the biggest whiskey distillery in Virginia. Jefferson tried winemaking. He failed spectacularly.
And rum? That colonial staple wasn’t some tiki drink—it was political currency. Tied up in the brutal triangle trade, rum was everywhere until war made it too British. The solution? Whiskey. Homemade, corn-fed, aggressively American. When rum became treasonous, whiskey became patriotic. It even sparked its own rebellion in the 1790s—because nothing says liberty like a tax revolt over your drink of choice.
Meanwhile, coffeehouses were becoming the Starbucks of colonial rebellion—minus the oat milk. Forget social media. If you wanted news, gossip, or revolution, you grabbed a seat and sipped slowly. Coffee wasn’t just a drink—it was a vibe. A political vibe. John Adams quit tea and started pounding coffee. So did entire towns. Refusing tea became the edible protest of the day.
Then there was chocolate. Not bars. Not bonbons. Colonists drank it—grated, spiced, and hot. It was expensive, luxurious, and delightfully pretentious. Want to flex in 1774? Whip out a silver chocolate pot and serve your guests cinnamon-spiked cocoa. Even Benedict Arnold sold it in his apothecary (before he… switched sides).
This wasn’t just about taste—it was about identity. What we drank became who we were. Colonists boycotted British imports and embraced local libations. It was the original “buy American” movement, and it changed American palates forever.
So this Fourth of July, raise your glass (of literally anything but tea) and remember: America was brewed in a coffeehouse, distilled in a tavern, and sweetened with chocolate.
Tea didn’t stand a chance.