Secret Sauce

That was the recipe. Angelo came up with that deceptively simple formula at the Paris pharmacy where he worked as an apprentice. But he wasn't planning to be the under study for long. By all accounts, he always had the desire to invent some new medicine that would change the world and make him very rich in the process. And you might say that Angelo was one of the lucky

ones because his dream became reality. He was helped out by a doctor that he knew, one who was looking for medicines that would help his patients with one of those never ending complaints of the human body, a sore throat. He directed his patients to the pharmacy where Angelo worked, and things really hit a high note when the doctor sent along one patient who needed to take better care of her throat than most. After all, she was an

opera singer. She tried Angelo's experimental new topic, two ounces of aromatic leaves in one pint of Bordeaux wine, and she loved it. In fact, she loved it so much that she ordered a dozen bottles, and she was only the first of many. Angelo's dream was launched. He named his new wine based tonic after himself, Vin Mariani, and then hit the road. He knew the key to his

success to recommendations. A doctor recommending the tonic to his patient had been the first step, and then that opera singer recommending the tonic to others had helped spread the word. So Angelo decided that he needed more of the same. He made a plan to use another new and powerful technology. He would send a case of his new tonic out with the request, try the tonic and if you like it, put down a recommendation in your own handwriting, sign it

and send it back along with a photograph. Because if there was one thing that Angelo knew better than the pharmacy lab. It was what makes people tick. After all, Who doesn't like getting a free case of a new drink. Who doesn't like the chance to become an influencer on the cutting edge of a new trend. And soon enough, those handwritten notes and photographs started coming back, ready to be copied as advertisements for his new vin Mariani, and

the reviews were glowing. Within a few years, Angelo was publishing booklets filled with the praise for his tonic. Artists, writers, and other well known figures of the day all got in on the fun. Although it's really not a surprise that a product that took its first steps in the opera should find well known musicians and composers who are willing to sing its praises. Some even sent back a few bars of music sketched out by hand as a

thank you for Angelo's Tonic. With each passing wave of interest, Angelo had new ideas for how to spread the word about his vin Mariani. By the eighteen nineties, he was selling it as a tonic and stimulant for the brain, body and nerves. His advertisement said that if it was taken two or three times a day, in addition to soothing the throat, lungs, and stomach of a singer. It could cure influenza, nervousness, anemia, insomnia, even melancholy and impotence.

If that sounds like what we might call creative writing, consider that literary titans like H. G. Wells and A. Meal Zola used their pens to support it too, and speaking for the men of medical science, apparently, the president of the British Medical Association said that Vin MARIANI drinkers good, and I quote climb mountains without exhaustion. These were grand claims for a simple beverage, but by then there were

grand names behind his lavish posters and books. Thomas Edison signed on and anywhere the American inventor was respected, Angelo could expect that his tonic would find interest. William McKinley edit his signature as well, after he was elected President of the United States in There were testimonials for doctors and drinkers beyond the US, too, like the Imperial Princess of Brazil and the kings of Spain, Greece and Sweden.

On top of that, three popes added their recommendation. Pope Leo the Eighth even sent Angelo a gold medal embossed with an image of his head. It was everything that Angelo Mariani could have wished for. His patent recipe had swept the world and the gold flowed back to him in Paris. But his twice a day tonic wasn't the only thing brewing. You see, there was trouble on the way.

First copycats had ung up in his wake. One Georgia pharmacist in the United States in the eighteen eighties whipped up a concoction that added caffeine to a recipe very much like Angelo's Vin Mariani. He even publicized it as a French wine that could cure what ails you. But if competitors swooping in to take advantage of his advertising innovations upset Angelo, there were even bigger concerns on the horizon, and they went right to the heart of things his recipe.

You see, at the end of the eighteen hundreds, prohibition efforts were on the rise, seeing as how a good portion of the beverage was wine. That would have been bad enough, but soon people started to see a problem with the other ingredient, those aromatic leaves that really gave his wine tonic pizzazz. After all they were coca leaves, and it was starting to become common knowledge that what the coca leaves produced, a stimulant known as cocaine, had

a dark, addictive downside. As the news spread, tonic drinkers on both sides of the Atlantic slowly woke up to the horror of what they had in their cabinets, and sales of vin Mariani went down, way down. Angelo tried to adapt, of course, he changed his formula, no more coca leaves, which he proclaimed in a series of new advertisements, but by then it was too late. The buying public had already decided that vin Mariani was not the drink of the future. If that stung Angelo, it couldn't have

been the only thing that hurt. Take for instance, the realization that his rivals were more successful at rebranding the drinks they had modeled on his rivals. Like that Georgia pharmacist. His drink, originally called the French Wine of Coca, had

also changed its recipe. It took on a new name, leaning away from the coca leaves and towards the source of its caffeine, the cola nut, and its sales only continued to soar Angelo's vin Mariani was consigned to history, but that Georgia pharmacists knockoff became America's drink of choice during Prohibition. His name John Pemberton and his version of Angelo's bever age. Today we call it Coca cola. Running

a marathon or half marathon is no small feat. It takes months of training to condition one's body, building up the stamina to endure miles of running at a time requires dedication, proper equipment, and the will to persevere. Olympic athletes Bill Rogers and Steve Prefontaine ran anywhere between six and thirteen miles a day, seven days a week. They never let the cold, or rain or snow keep them from achieving their goals. For them, running wasn't a job

or a responsibility, it was life. But for Ludovine Hamlin, running was just away to pass the time. Ludovine or Lou as she was called, was well known around her hometown of Elkmont, Alabama. Everyone was really it was hard to stay a stranger in a town of only four hundred people. For the last several years, an annual charity run called the Elkmont Trackless Train trek half marathon had been held to raise money for the town's high school.

Runners gather in the parking lot of a local business before taking off on the thirteen point one mile race throughout town and on the morning of January six, two thousand sixteen, the event started, like every year before it, One sixty five competitors set out with their lofty spirits and equally high hopes. As the fastest racers pulled ahead, their sneakers pounding the pavement beneath them, a dark horse

approached out of nowhere. No one knew where she'd come from, but it was clear she had never raced before, and yet she blazed ahead, speeding past some while keeping pace with others. By the half mile mark, she was already in second place. Folks on the side of the road cheered the newcomer on, although they also tilted their heads at some of her odd behaved of year. For one, she seemed preoccupied by the road kill she encountered along

the route. She also graciously accepted a slice of pizza from one bystander, which she ate a little of before burying the rest in the dirt. Then she strolled over to the nearby creek for a few swigs of water to wash it all down. Hydrated and happy for the energy boost, Lou continued on, garnering encouragement from fellow runners and onlookers alike. She also made sure to say hello to the donkeys and cows in the fields as she passed. But as more runners flew past her, Lou knew that

she had to get back on track. The end was in sight. When the race had finally ended, Lou had crossed the finish line after one hour and thirty two minutes, not bad for someone who had never run a half marathon before. Still, some of the other runners were skeptical. They didn't remember her being at the starting line, and it was obvious she hadn't registered because she wasn't wearing a number on her chest. Had she snuck in after the race had started, hoping that no one would notice. No.

Lu didn't even know she was in a race. She had seen everyone running and had just decided to jump in and join them. However, a few people did recognize her from the parking lot at the start of the race, remarking two officials and local journalists afterward how they had said hi to her while she had walked her way through the crowd. The explanation for her being there was simple.

Her mother had let her go outside that morning to stroll around the family's forty acre farm, and as always, Lou had wandered off, this time finding her way to the Elkman's half marathon. With nothing better to do, she decided to join in. There was no way anyone would have stopped her. She was only two and a half years old and a dog, a bloodhound in fact, one

who would have been trained to hunt escaped prisoners. Instead, her lack of focus made her unfit to serve, but her nose perfectly sniffed out a spot in the race. She ran all thirteen point one miles, after which her photo was sent to her owner, April, by one of April's coworkers. It wasn't out of the ordinary for Lou to go into town by herself, and most people knew

who she belonged to. April thought that she had gone to see the post race hubbub and even mentioned how cute it was that someone had placed the medal around her neck before they took the photo. Except it wasn't a prop. Ludovine had earned that medal herself winning seventh place, and the Elkmont Trackless Train Trek half Marathon. Today it has a much simpler name, the hound Dog Half Marathon. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet

of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by visiting Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by me Aaron Manky in partnership with how Stuff Works. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, and television show, and you can learn all about it over at the World of Lore dot com. And until next time, stay curious. Ye