Pineapple Lime Rickey Punch

The Christmas concert at First African Baptist was Thursday night and sugar, it was something. The sanctuary was packed — every pew full, people standing along the walls, the ushers in their white gloves directing traffic like air traffic controllers. The choir was in our robes — deep blue with gold stoles — and we processed in singing "Joy to the World," and I could feel the whole building vibrating with it. Two hundred years of voices in those walls, and ours were the latest, and they won't be the last.

We sang six songs. I held it together through five. But "O Holy Night" — baby, when the soprano soloist hit that high note on "O night divine" and the whole choir came in underneath, I lost it. I was standing in the alto section with tears streaming down my face and Gladys elbowed me and whispered, "Pull it together, Dorothy," and I whispered back, "Mind your business, Gladys," and we both sang through tears for the rest of the verse. That is forty years of friendship and it is imperfect and it is the best thing I have outside my family.

After the concert, there was a reception in the fellowship hall. I had been cooking for it all week: three pans of macaroni and cheese, two pans of cornbread, a vat of punch, and a table of desserts that included my coconut cake, Gladys's peach cobbler (she made it even though it's December, because Gladys does not follow seasonal logic), and six different kinds of cookies from various church ladies who shall remain unnamed because some of those cookies were dry. I didn't say it. I thought it. I ate one of each to be polite. I went home and had a slice of my own coconut cake to cleanse my palate.

Earl didn't come to the concert. The evening cold and the crowds are too much. But he was waiting when I got home, with the porch light on and the TV off, which means he was just sitting in the quiet waiting for me to come back. I told him about the concert. I sang him a little bit of "O Holy Night" in the kitchen. He said, "You're flat." I said, "You're sitting in a recliner and I just sang for three hundred people. You don't get to critique." He smiled. I made us hot chocolate — the real kind, with cocoa and milk and sugar on the stove, not the packet kind — and we drank it in the living room with the tree lights on. Sixty-one years old. Forty years married. Hot chocolate by the tree. The world is complicated, baby, but some things are simple.

Now go on and feed somebody.

I have been bringing a vat of punch to that fellowship hall for fifteen years, and people drink it down to the ice every single time — which is all the review I need. This Pineapple Lime Rickey Punch is the one I keep coming back to for the holidays: it’s bright and citrusy and has that little fizz that makes people think you did something fancy, when really you just poured things into a bowl. If you’re feeding a crowd after something sacred and joyful, this is the punch you want on the table — and if you happen to cry through “O Holy Night” beforehand, well, it’ll still be waiting for you when you get to the fellowship hall.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 20

Ingredients

1 can (46 oz) pineapple juice, chilled
1 can (12 oz) frozen limeade concentrate, thawed
1/2 cup fresh lime juice (about 4–5 limes)
2 liters ginger ale, chilled
1 liter club soda, chilled
1/4 cup grenadine (optional, for color and a touch of sweetness)
1 lime, thinly sliced, for garnish
1 cup pineapple chunks, for garnish (optional)
Ice ring or ice cubes

Instructions

Combine the juice base. In a large punch bowl, stir together the pineapple juice, thawed limeade concentrate, and fresh lime juice until fully combined.
Add grenadine. If using grenadine, pour it in now and stir gently. It will deepen the color to a pretty golden-pink without adding strong flavor.
Add the fizz. Just before serving, slowly pour in the ginger ale and club soda along the side of the bowl to preserve the carbonation. Stir once or twice, gently.
Add ice and garnish. Add an ice ring or a generous amount of ice cubes to keep the punch cold without diluting it too quickly. Float lime slices and pineapple chunks on top.
Serve immediately. Ladle into cups and serve right away while the punch is still fizzy. If you’re making this ahead, keep the ginger ale and club soda refrigerated separately and add them only when guests arrive.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pineapple Lime Rickey Punch — The Vat I Made for the Fellowship Hall