Bad climate or nature news threatens to drive me to find solace in another colourless, low viscosity liquid and my tipple of fancy, gin. I won’t find the answers at the bottom of a bottle but, on a bright note, even as the crises escalate, as long as we are able to gather some suitable plants, we have the potential to ferment them into alcohol and drown our sorrows.
Too much water in the wrong places seems to be a global issue this week with thousands of homes, businesses and schools flooded. Around the world there’ll be children who are disappointed not to be in the classroom but, at least in the UK, some teachers will be be moaning the fact that, since the pandemic, we’re expected to teach online even if school is closed. Snow days and flooding no longer need to stand in the way of algebra, subordinate clauses or oxbow lakes.
Last orders for Alcohol
The chemical formula looks so innocent, just two carbons, six hydrogens and an oxygen atom, but together they form ethanol (C2H5OH), the compound found in alcoholic drinks. Love it or loathe it, humans have used alcohol socially, religiously, and medicinally for thousands of years. The earliest evidence of alcohol consumption was from around 7,000 BC in China, where residues of a fermented beverage made from rice and honey were found. I’m not a huge imbiber myself, but given our long relationship with drink, it’s unlikely that the closing time bell is going to be ringing any time soon.
According to a report by the NASUWT last March 23% of teachers are turning to alcohol to cope with work-related stresses. However, it’s not teaching that might drive me to increase the units, it’s the climate crisis, sometimes it all just seems to be spiralling out of control like Hurricane Helene.
Wine boxes
Like almost anything we buy alcohol, whether it’s beer, wine, or spirits, has a significant environmental footprint. The process involves substantial water usage, energy consumption, and often, the use of pesticides and fertilisers in the raw materials. Regenerative organic farming, which promotes soil health, biodiversity, and ecosystem resilience means some producers are reducing their environmental impact. If we’re careful about what we’re buying we can all contribute to a healthier planet, one sip at a time.
Everyday Hubster and I assess the carbon impact of the choices we make. A quick check in the reference book on my desk, How Bad are Bananas by Mike Berners-Lee, suggests that a bottle of vino produced in England has an impact of 1.3 Kg CO2, a bottle imported by tanker from Australia is ~1.4 kg of CO2 and one delivered by road from Italy is 1.6 Kg.
It’s not the wine but the bottling and retail that release the most emissions. Mike suggests we buy wine boxes to lower the impact but just imagine if we started drinking more home brewed ales and wines like folk did in the 80s! Cheap (avoids alcohol tax) and cheerful (hic) but often with a hell of a hangover.
Open Bar
One of the most thumbed books we have on our bookshelf is Booze for Free. Given our penchant for an occasional drink with dinner but aversion to spending money in the shops it forms a great leisure pursuit as it’s all about chemistry with a sprinkling of alchemy.
Cider
Making homemade cider is low impact when compared to commercially produced alternatives. Using apples from our orchard means there are no emissions associated with transportation. The picking, washing and grinding of the fruit is done by hand and there’s no heavy machinery, extensive energy use or refrigeration. The by-product, apple pomace can be re-soaked to make cider kin and the remains then composted further minimising waste and contributing to a circular economy. By reusing swing-top bottles there are no new packaging materials required. Bright sparkle on the tongue, rating 8/10 and sláinte.
We’ve had great success with elderflower fizz apart from one batch that started exploding due to over fermentation and one that went stringy with some sort of primordial, bacterial slime. I’d give it a refreshing 9/10 when it works well but label it with a hazard warning when it doesn’t 1/10.
Nettle Ale
One of our besties came over last week with bottles of his finest nettle ale. With top notes of ginger, it was a refreshing tipple to enjoy whilst we talked about moths as the sun went down; a brassy 7/10. The same friend also brews mead. I find its honeyed top, middle and bottom notes a little too intense but it does make a delicious vinaigrette 4/10. We’ve never been brave enough, or desperate enough to try broad bean or courgette wine but in theory almost anything organic will ferment over time.
I’ve asked Hubster to put a hazard warning up next to the shed that says ‘Caution – Drunk Wasps’. After a summer of hardly seeing any we now have a squadron of yellow jackets swarming around consuming the overripe fruit we leave for wildlife in the autumn. Wasps become intoxicated and can exhibit aggressive behaviour, but they are apex predators, so if they’re not doing well, it indicates that there is something wrong with the world, so I’m happy to see them even if they are grumpy when drunk.
Hard Alcohol
The term ‘proof’ dates back to 16th century England, when spirits were taxed at different rates depending on their alcohol content. A ‘burn-or-no-burn’ test was used, an alcohol-containing liquid that ignited was said to be “above proof”, and one which would not be was said to be “under proof”. A liquid just alcoholic enough to maintain combustion was defined as 100 proof.
Despite being a chemistry teacher, setting up a still is a no-go as you need a distillery licence to produce spirits. Back in my student days we used to occasionally receive a bottle of poitín, or potcheen, from a now deceased relative. I believe he used potato peelings, but the resulting liquid was nigh on undrinkable unless mixed with a glug of grapefruit juice. It felt like one step away from drinking meths. A vomit inducing 1/10.
Given we can produce no hard spirits I content myself by purchasing the occasional bottle of vodka to make a spiced elderberry tincture packed with Vitamin C for a medicinal boost in flu season. Another favourite when I’m feeling washed out after a Friday afternoon with 9J is a glass of sloe gin on the rocks, which has curative powers to soothe the soul. We also make a delicious creme de cassis, superb in a cider and black which takes me back to my student days.
Mocktails
Needless to say, on a work night we are far more likely to drink our non-alcoholic elderflower, blackcurrant or rhubarb, ginger and lemon cordials. They are all very simple to make in a jam pan, strained and then with a little sugar and Vitamin C to taste. We make a batch and pop it in the freezer to give us a taste of summer sunshine through the dark winter months.
The pupils in school cause me some merriment. They are fascinated when we use ethanol in experiments such as the emulsion test to detect the presence of lipids or fats in a sample. The hazard warning labels state “Highly flammable” and “Toxic if swallowed”. I use this as a way to inform them of the dangers of drink as many scientists say that no amount of alcohol is good for you (although a G&T with ice and a slice can surely help relax you emotionally after a lesson observation that went badly).
Note to self: Remember to mention the graffiti in the girl’s toilets to the caretaker. We have gallons of hand sanitiser left over from the pandemic in the lab combustibles cupboard, with a high ethanol content, it’s a perfect solvent. I’m really not sure that the charming Mrs D really wants to know what the pupils think of her.
