Pineapple is a flawless fruit. Not only is it a tasty summertime snack all on its own, but it’s delicious when dipped in chocolate, and plays super well with alcoholic spirits of all kinds. I like to buy them whole and break ‘em down myself, but I’m always a little sad to toss out the the bumpy, slightly spiky peels.
Congratulations to all the Canadians who have done dumb shit while bombed on Bombay Sapphire in the past couple of months, you've just earned yourself a hell of an excuse.
You can now explain some of it away because, as it turns out, some bottles of Bombay Sapphire were a lot fucking stronger than advertised. So, if you punched your fist through that Corvette window, slept with that person at the bar you really shouldn't have slept with, or stole your neighbor's cat, well, it's now on the gin.
We know this because an investigation by the Liquor Control Board of Ontario quality assurance team found out that some of the gin was a little more ginny than it should have been.
"This recall was initiated after an investigation by LCBO Quality Assurance revealed a deviation in the stated 40 percent alcohol content by volume," reads a news release by the board. "The affected lot... has alcohol content by volume of 77 percent."
Hell yeah, that's so much more bang for your buck.
Not everyone followed that particular line of logic though—Saskatchewan, Quebec, Nova Scotia, and Newfoundland have all followed Ontario's lead in pulling the liquor from the shelves. Turns out having more alcohol in your drink than you advertised is, understandably, a major no-no.
Furthermore, this isn't the first time that extra-boozy booze has wound up on the shelves in Ontario. A few moths ago, the province recalled Georgian Bay Vodka because, again, it would fuck you up more than it was supposed to (the vodka, sold at 40 percent, had some bottles with up to 80 percent.)
Next time, just drink a whiskey—you can always blame it on whiskey.
Follow Mack Lamoureux on Twitter.
Hello everyone, and welcome to 3-Ingredient Happy Hour, the weekly drink column featuring super simple, yet delicious libations. We’ll be kicking things off with the sweet, tart, and slightly bitter Italian Greyhound, which just happens to be the beverage that turned me into a gin drinker.
Between 1700 and 1760, London was involved in a passionate but staggeringly destructive love affair with gin, popularly known as "the mother's ruin." The city was positively drowning in the stuff.
By 1730, an estimated 7,000 gin shops (and probably many more if one was somehow able to count the untold illegal drinking dens) were catering to the trade, with some 10 million gallons of the spirit distilled each year. Historical accounts of violence, widespread addiction, and social devastation call to mind the early 80s crack epidemic that hit the US with ferocity.
For many working-class Londoners, gin became more than a drink. It sated desperate hunger pangs, offered relief from the perpetual cold, and was a blessed escape from the brutal drudgery of life in the slums and workhouses. It was a cheap buzz that could be had for pennies on any decrepit street corner stand or in the bowels of some stinking cellar—and it quickly wrecked havoc on inner city London.
Thomas Fielding, a social historian of the time, wrote about the ravages of the trade on what he termed the "inferior people" in his 1751 political pamphlet Enquiry into the causes of the late increase of Robbers:
"A new kind of drunkenness, unknown to our ancestors, is lately sprung up among us, and which if not put a stop to, will infallibly destroy a great part of the inferior people. The drunkenness I here intend is … by this poison called Gin … the principal sustenance (if it may be so called) of more than a hundred thousand people in this Metropolis."
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