Whisky Magazine Issue 125
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It's time for some sober reflection
This will probably only appear after the grimness of January has been happily left behind and we properly enter a new year, but at the moment of writing, I am surrounded by friends – fear not, this is no deathbed scenario – all of whom are, metaphorically, polishing some rather rusty halos which they have managed to extract from the back of their attics. “I'm detoxing,” “No drink for me, I'm off it for a month.” “Can you give me some money? I've gone dry for January,” (this last one is no more than charity mugging by the way. You have to give money because it is for a good cause, but for exhibiting self-control? Go jump out of a plane mate). One has even entered into a period of monastic seclusion – admittedly in a Norfolk mansion – where he is going to grow a beard and try to find his navel.
I've written about this before – and have many more qualified scientists – but here goes. There is no need to do this! You are not toxic. If you were, you would be dead. The body is set up to remove toxins, it's what it does. The point of having a liver is to flush out toxins, not store them. If you are sensible and take a couple of days off the booze every week it will happily continue providing this function. A quiet period every week (OK, every fortnight) is sufficient.
This idea of this simple solution to ‘toxicity' got me thinking however. About Scotch. Not about the volumes I consume (not a lot doctor, honestly), but in its general – or perceive...