LIFE’S TONICS
A slightly tipsy Sarah-Kate gins and bears it!
After being a committed wine drinker for many years, I’ve recently discovered the joys of gin. I think it must’ve been the long, lovely summer we had, when balmy evenings called out for a tipple that came in a glass clinking with multiple ice cubes.
Yes, I know I could have had water, but dearie me, trying to drink two litres of that a day, as prescribed by health pundits, is enough to test a person’s patience, not to mention her bladder. By 6pm, I’m crying out for something wet that actually has a taste.
The reason I’m late to the gin party is I have never been a fan of its best friend, tonic. I don’t care how much malaria quinine cures, I’m not into it. Or so I thought until the new fancy artisan tonics started coming on to the market.
They cost an arm and a leg, of course, but are lower in sugar than the usual brands, have a far more palatable flavour and come in the most charming little bottles. My favourite is flavoured with elderflower. I mean, how cute is that? I am powerless in the face of such adorability.
I now believe that even an Alcohol Free Day should include one of these far-lessthan-pint-sized delights, although the Ginger is fond of pointing out that this flies in the face of the very reason for an AFD.
But what does he know? You don’t have to add the gin! But while the tonic’s open and the gin lives in the same neighbourhood, it just seems silly not to.
Anyway, given my newfound spiritual discovery, you can imagine my delight when we were setting off on holiday recently and at Auckland International Airport happened upon a tasting of 20 different gins in one of the duty-free shops.
Look, I’d be the first to admit it’s hardly a breakfast drink and it was only 11am, but still, these opportunities don’t come along every day, so I set about sampling three or four of them.
Who knew a simple clear spirit could taste so different from bottle to bottle? It’s all about the botanicals, don’t you know. The things they put in with their junipers these days, you wouldn’t read about it. Well, you won’t, not here anyway, because morning gins, even tiny ones, and ant-sized ingredients do not make for a greater understanding on that front.
All I know is that wherever we were going, we ended up taking a lot of gin with us, which was a mistake because one of the things I like most about a G&T is that one is actually enough. Very grownup and moderate of me, I know. And I don’t find that to be the case with wine. One is lonely. Two is good. Three leads to four and then it’s all over, bar the shouting – although sometimes there is shouting.
But one ice-cold gin and tonic with loads of ice in a nice, tall glass with a slice of lemon, lime or – if you’re in the mood – cucumber? Not lonely at all.