A soothing cup of Horlicks was the lifeblood of our family

When I was a child, sugary drinks were my parents’ way of fixing potentially disastrous situations. Tears would be curtailed with a carton of blackcurrant Ribena, while dark, wet nights were met with a cup of warm Horlicks.

Horlicks? When I tell people that I still go to bed with the malty brew, the most common reaction is bemusement. Synonymous with war-time rationing, it is the Marmite of the beverage world: not loved and hated in equal measure, but loved and overlooked.

But that is precisely the point, because Horlicks is not the type of flashy drink you might pick up while browsing the supermarket shelves; it comes as part of the family.

It has been part of my family more than most. My father was employed for his entire working life by Glaxosmithkline (GSK), for many years the maker of Horlicks, so my siblings and I became unofficial tasters for the conglomerate. Instead of lemonade we had Lucozade and instead of hot chocolate we drank Horlicks.

My bedtime ritual consisted of stirring heaped spoonfuls of beige powder into a mug of boiling water, patiently watching it turn into a murky paste, before filling the cup up to the brim with hot milk straight out of the microwave. A spoonful of powder too few could leave the drink tasting dusty while one too many could make it sludgy.

But once made, I would retreat to the sofa and enjoy my night cap, convinced it had sleep-inducing qualities.

I have Horlicks heritage on both sides. When my mother was pregnant in hospital with my eldest sibling, she became “addicted” to the stuff. Every night around 8.30pm the hot drinks trolley would do the rounds and Mum would opt for a milky Horlicks.

These were the days before instant Horlicks, when the drink was entirely made with warm milk. She said it reminded her of her own childhood, when her father – a scientist for Smithkline Beecham, as it was known before merging with Glaxo – would bring back glass tubs of the powder.

When I and my siblings headed off to university, each of us stocked up with cartons of Ribena, a dozen Lucozade bottles and, of course, a few jars of Horlicks. I struggled to find someone who would join me for a mug. Was drinking hot malty beverages just a Sheridan thing?

Apparently not. GSK has just put Horlicks up for sale (the business in India, at least; the UK brand was sold last year) for $3 billion. Coca-cola, Kraft Heinz and Nestlé are all reportedly interested.

The drink has nutritional benefits, of course. Horlicks contains vitamins A, C and D, not to mention a good dose of calcium. I’m not sure of the calorie count over the years, but a serving today contains roughly 181 if made with milk. That’s more than the average hot chocolate, but I’m convinced the nutritional positives outweigh the negatives.

But it’s the heritage that matters to me. Horlicks was invented in 1873 by Gloucestershire brothers William and James Horlick, who built their first UK factory in Slough 35 years later – a factory my father would do a stint at when he started out at Beechams.

Each sip is a reminder of rainy days watching Bedknobs and Broomsticks with my siblings, drifting off reading a bedtime story or all of us in the kitchen scratching at the bottom of the jar, making sure there was enough Horlicks powder to go round. read More at telegraph.co.uk/opinion