Whisky Magazine Issue 109
This article is 3 years old and some information provided may be time sensitive. Please check all details of events, tours, opening times and other information before travelling or making arrangements.
Copyright Whisky Magazine © 1999-2016. All rights reserved. To use or reproduce part or all of this article please contact us for details of how you can do so legally.
Daveconsidered the history and effects of the hot toddy
Avirus they said, which seems to be medical speak for, ‘we haven't a clue, please go away before you infect us as well,' but anyway it was a nasty cough/chest bug that laid low the Family Broom for the festive season. (The only relief was a trip to the Harry Potter Studio Tour where I looked in vain for a bottle of fire whisky. The butter beer by the way was non-alcoholic, tooth-meltingly sweet and nothing like the 17th century recipe I turned up in Robert May's 1685 book The Accomplisht Cook, but I digress.) Although the family succumbed, I managed to fight it off, which isn't, I hasten to add, some sort of macho statement as I am as prone as any of my sex to fall victim to the effects of Man Flu. No, my recovery was entirely down to the copious quantities of a cocktail of hot water, Lemsip, honey and whisky. I started with Balvenie Double Wood and ended up on AnCnoc. In other words, I was Saved By Toddy.
Funny how even the most puritanical of whisky drinker reaches for a similar mix when illness looms. It could be the Hot Toddy, or the equally efficacious Whisky Mac. I remember when as, heavy with Man Flu and drinking the latter concoction, a caring friend appeared with another glass of green liquid which I added to the already brimming glass. “But that's Green Chartreuse!” he cried. I drank it, slept like an innocent and awoke cured, but I digress (again).
The Toddy was not always the refuge of the sickly. In Ireland, an order of a Hot Whiskey is perfectly normal. ...