Saunders: I hunted the perfect eggnog, but a less than perfect one found me

Ever hear about restaurants that are so cool, so hip, so with-it, that they don’t advertise, have unlisted telephone numbers and no name on the door?

Of course you haven’t, because you must be a member of the glitterati to even know they exist.

I’m not a member, but I’ve discovered the drink that they serve at those exclusive enclaves. It’s eggnog, and it’s a nog that is so exclusive that it doesn’t even advertise. If anything, it appears to be trying to hide.

You know how some people travel thousands of miles to see the mating of the wildebeest, the running of the bulls at Pamplona, the Hot Now light come on at Krispy Kreme?

They’ve got nothing on me when it comes to finding good eggnog.

After complaining last year to you, dear readers, about not being able to find the perfect blend of sweetness, spiciness and texture, I received a call from my pal Curtis boasting about a sublime eggnog he’d found in my neighborhood grocery store.

I searched all last Christmas season and couldn’t find it.

This year, he explained why: I’d been, to paraphrase an old Johnny Lee song, looking for nog in all the wrong places.

The brand he’d touted wasn’t in the section with the Jell-O, cottage cheese and festively festooned store brand eggnogs: it was in the dairy case, mixed in with the milk.

It still took what cops call a hard-target search to find it, because it was in an unmarked glass – yes, glass - bottle, with no price tag on it or on the shelf.

Why, it was almost like they… they… didn’t want you to find it.

Egads! Why, one wonders, would that be? Was the company afraid that increasing production would overtax the elves it kept out back making the stuff?

When I called the company, its founder said the bottles were unmarked simply because that made them easier to recycle and reuse. I didn’t get permission to name the brand, and since it seems to cherish its anonymity, I won’t divulge it. But it’s delicious.

As the world’s preeminent eggnogologist, I’d guess I’ve tested – yeah, let’s say “tested” instead of guzzled – more eggnog than any person still upright. That’s why I feel eminently qualified to answer your burning eggnog queries:

Dear Dr. Nog, it is impossible to tell good eggnog from bad without buying it, which can get expensive. So what do you do when you get a’hold to a bad batch? Disappointed in Durham.

Dear Disappointed, what you are experiencing is a common problem. I, myself, one recent cold, rainy night, bought a carton from the supermarket and, as is my wont, took a nip right there in the parking lot.

Blecccccchhh! It was raining too hard to return it, but it was not raining too hard to stop at a gas station and buy its last quart of a different brand.

That it was the last one should have been an omen. Again, as is my wont, I began sipping while driving. The taste and consistency were fine, but something was off.

I made a troubling discovery as I drove and drank and chewed. Chewed?

Yes: turns out the nog was spoiled and curdled, and it came out chunky when I poured it into a glass.

Oy! I couldn’t return it, because I’d guzzled half of the carton before realizing the nog was no good, so I was out of $9 for two undrinkable nogs.

In short, Disappointed in Durham, even we experts sometimes have to eat the cost of bad nog. Or just eat the bad nog.

For those of us in a state of catatonia from NOD –Nog Overdose – cheer up: now that Christmas is past, the nog will just magically disappear from the shelves: the elves’ union prevents any from being made past Dec. 22.

Thus, you’ll be safe until next year – unless you, as I do, freeze a batch.

Speaking of which, in a future column, Dr. Nog will explain “What happens to your body when you drink eggnog in August?”