Gin and tonic – is it really mothers’ ruin?

Gin and tonic is widely considered to be the most popular cocktail globally – casually abbreviated to G & T, it’s ever so chic and beloved of both genders, but especially the ladies.

It’s the Spanish though, who have first taken the consumption of gin and tonic to another level – followed closely by the rest of the world in their wake.

A few European summers ago (maybe five?), after a long, hot, 45-minute walk across Madrid, I was seduced by the shady coolness of a bar at the treed kerbside of a huge roundabout that had, on its opposite side, the impressive building that houses the Spanish bank headquarters.

This was not any old bar; this was a gin and tonic bar. Serendipity? At that point in time, this was a new and very welcome concept to a G & T lover like me.

It had a menu of dozens of gins from all over the world and a separate menu for the tonic (slightly shorter) that offered tonic waters perfumed with various botanicals such as cardamom and ginger (my favourite) or pink peppercorns – to name but a few. Then you chose your garnish – bruised grapefruit peel being my garnish of choice.

What’s more, it was served in a huge ‘coupe’ – the usual vessel – but any oversized glass would do I found out – after (too) much research.

So, there, under the spreading chestnut trees of Madrid, my Nirvana had been reached.

However, while G & T is seen today as ‘chic’ – historically it has had a much different reputation.

GIN

The Dutch introduced gin to England in the seventeenth century in a spirit they called ‘genever’. The poor of London, because of its low price and its easy accessibility, embraced it.

Abbreviated to ‘gin’ – because, it is said, people were too inebriated to pronounce ‘genever’, by 1736, it had become the biggest scourge on London society with the poor of London, almost every one of them addicted, willing to do anything to keep up their daily intake of gin.

Authority’s attempts to stem the tide with greater taxes and licencing didn’t work – with only two of the 50-English-pound licences needed to sell gin ever taken up. The people just ignored this and carried on regardless. The production and sale just went underground.

Nudity became increasingly prevalent with people prepared to sell the clothes off their own backs (cloth garments being expensive at the time before the fabric mills of the industrial revolution) in exchange for gin.

There is one documented case where a mother, whose child was in the poor house, came to visit her and take her out for the day. Unfortunately, the poor house had furnished the child with new clothes and that was her undoing. The mother sold the child’s clothes to buy gin before abandoning her. The child subsequently died and the mother was charged with murder.

It was events such as these that gave gin its reputation as ‘Mothers’ Ruin’ (although women drank other forms of alcohol, they were not as readily available to them as gin was.)

‘Mothers’ ruin’ was a term that was still being used for gin during my childhood growing up in Great Britain.

It was only when beer became, once more, cheaper than gin that the problem started to abate somewhat.

When we nowadays derisively call a garish establishment of ill(ish) repute a ‘gin palace’ it is from this era that the term derives.

TONIC

I’ve read two accounts of who is responsible for formulating tonic water – one of them credits the soldiers of the British Raj in India and the other seamen leaving from Plymouth, England, bound for the tropics.

Both involve malaria and both are similar.

Malaria, a scourge of the tropics, can be both prevented and cured with quinine. So, when bound for, or serving in tropical climes, quinine was taken in daily doses by both the soldiers and the sailors. It was unpalatably bitter so the servicemen added sugar, soda and water to alleviate the bitterness.

And so ‘tonic water’ was born. Then some bright spark came up with adding it to their gin rations.

And this is how the now beloved and chic G & T began its life: in misery, disease and poverty

On this side of the world

Gin and tonic’s bad start has now been relegated to history and passing interest.

Gin is the drink of the moment and nowadays, catching up to Spain, many bars are sporting gin menus in the Antipodes. The plethora of brands is constantly growing with both boutique and local offerings and the big brands producing more varieties.

Me, I have had a fatal attraction for Tanqueray ever since my late teenage years drinking Tanqueray from the bottle on Black Rock beach in a Melbourne heatwave. (Not recommended).

Since then I have graduated to Tanqueray 10 (now drunk from crystal glasses) and seriously flirted with Hendricks and the boutique gin from the Melbourne Gin Company – not forgetting Tanqueray’s newest offerings – particularly the one flavoured with bittersweet oranges from Seville.

The difference in gins is mainly found in the added aromatics – Hendricks’ is cucumber, for instance, while Tanqueray 10’s is citrus, including white grapefruit.

But beware: the wrong tonic water can easily spoil the gin.

Take my advice; never drink gin and tonic when the tonic comes from one of those ‘post mixers’. Get a bottle: Australia is selling some premium tonic waters these days with most also available online – my favourite of the moment is East Imperial – Yuzu or Grapefruit – a New Zealand brand.

You can also create your own customised tonic water by adding your preferred botanicals to the mix. In Barcelona, I bought little ‘tea bags’ not filled with tea but with various botanicals to jiggle in my gin and tonic.

With summer around the corner, and new balcony furniture bought and installed, I’m looking forward to an end of day gin and tonic, on my balcony watching the sun set over Barangaroo. It could well be this mother’s salvation rather than her ruin!