(Courtesy of Scripps Howard News Service.)
Put two people together–strangers or friends– add a couple of glasses of anything liquid, and you can bet your bottom dollar that one will propose a toast. This, of course, can be repeated and reciprocated ad infinitum, particularly if alcohol is involved.
But toasts are not confined to two guys swapping pleasantries in a bar. No notable occasion or rite of passage–be it joyous or sad–is complete without a toast. Imagine Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, or a wedding, anniversary, or bar mitzvah without someone standing up, raising a glass, and saying something pertinent and, with luck, witty. It doesn’t matter what’s in the glass, so long as the words are sharp and the feelings true.
The term "toast" has its origins in seventeenth century England during the reign of Charles II, when it was customary to dunk a piece of toasted bread into one’s drink, ostensibly to improve the beverage’s flavor. In one rendition, it is said that a certain lovelorn soul drank to the health of a fabled beauty with a glass filled with her bath water, while his more discerning rival in love declared that he would rather have the toast–in other words, the woman herself. The name stuck.
Toasts should not be confused with their close cousins: graces, blessings, or speeches. The ideal toast should be mini-skirt brief and an eloquent mix of wit and sentiment. At its simplest, it should be no more than an elegant way of wishing someone dear to you plenty of good luck, a long and happy life, and continued good health and prosperity. It might be a touching remembrance of times past, a simple hope for the future, or congratulations on an achievement of note.
Certain events demand formality, and the grandest dinners are usually overseen by a Master of Ceremonies. Some MCs use specially-blown goblets with thick, heavy stems that can be banged loudly on tabletops to attract attention without shattering. Other old hands at the game use glasses that appear to hold far more liquid than they actually do, to ensure that their owners can remain relatively sober as they lift their spirits again and again. The most fervent sentimentalists favor glasses with super-model-thin stems, which they snap immediately after drinking.
But there is no need to take things so seriously in less formal occasions. Toasts are permitted to be trite: "As you slide down the banister of life, may the splinters never point the wrong way"; heartfelt: "May the most you wish for, be the least you get"; or sweetly sentimental: "May I see you gray and combing your grandchildren’s hair." They might also be wry: "Here’s to a friend who knows me well and likes me anyway"; wittily barbed: "Champagne for our real friends and real pain for our sham friends"; salacious: "Sweethearts and wives—may they never meet"; and even wistfully lascivious: "May we kiss whom we please and please whom we kiss."
Strictly speaking, toasts should be delivered standing up, although I do recall a memorable wedding when the father of the bride, who, in despair at his daughter’s choice of spouse, had been seeking solace from the bottle since before breakfast, delivered a toast from a horizontal position under the table. Heard but unseen by his guests, he grudgingly wished the happy couple well, opining that the bridegroom would make his daughter an ideal first husband.
There was also the celebrated occasion when another well-lubricated host at a large family gathering got carried away, not only by the sound of his own voice but also by his emotion: "Here’s to the health of all those we love," he began, "here’s to the health of all those that love us, and–hic–here’s to the health of all those that love them that love those that love them that love those that love us, and here’s—hic...." He would no doubt still be rambling on today had he not suddenly burst into tears and sunk back in his chair. So much for brevity and wit.
To that end, alcohol is no prerequisite for a successful toast, as some just seem to hit the nail right on the head without any intoxicating inspiration. Try the Hollywood classics for some good ones. What Valentine’s Day suitor, for example, hasn’t borrowed Humphrey Bogart’s words from Casablanca—"Here’s looking at you, kid"—as a salute to his or her beloved? And finally, what gentler toast—Irish in origin, I believe—could be delivered at a birthday or anniversary than:
May you have food and raiment,
A soft pillow for your head.
May you be forty years in Heaven
Before the Devil knows you’re dead.
So wherever you are, whomever you are with, and whatever you are drinking, fill up your glass (but preferably not with bath water), raise it high, and celebrate the moment with a toast!
James Cleeve writes frequently about food and wine for English and American publications.
