Back in July, I ate myself drunk. I spent a terrible morning pigging out on individual supermarket tiramisu portions until I could set a breathalyser off, because a report had found that eating certain foods could push you over the legal drink-driving limit. But guess what? There has since been a follow-up report, this time about the Christmas foods that could push you over the legal drink-driving limit. Time to dig out the trusty breathalyser again …
Mince pies
A traditional mince pie apparently contains 0.14 units of alcohol, meaning it would take 29 of them for me to fail a breathalyser test (in the UK, excluding Scotland, the legal limit for drivers is 80mg of alcohol per 100 ml of blood). Instead I opt for the nuclear option: Sainsbury’s Taste the Difference brandy-laced mince pies. I eat one and record no change. I eat another and my breathalyser goes off like an air-raid siren, recording a blood-alcohol content (BAC) of 0.8%. True, it goes back to zero after 10 minutes, but these things are more potent than I expected. The parameters of my challenge have changed. Sure, food can get me drunk. The question now is: how drunk?
Christmas cake
With a nice buzz going, I crack open a brandy-loaded Frosty Snowflake iced fruit cake. The report says two slices will get me over the limit – so I hack off a quarter and stuff it into my face as fast as I can. My breathalyser reads 1.2% BAC. Booyah! I am hammered, and it is only 9.47am. You know what? Let’s keep this party going.
Christmas pudding
To hell with it. This is a big night out for me now, and there is an individual booze-laden Christmas pudding in the microwave with my name on it. But wait … should I cover this thing in brandy first? Of course I should. But burning off brandy is for wimps, so I dollop three fat spoonfuls of brandy cream on top, smash the whole thing in about four bites, and my breathalyser goes into overdrive. It reads: “HI”. I am as drunk as the thing will let me go.
Gravy
Red-wine gravy, the report says, contains 1.9 units of alcohol. I am already blasted off my mind on pudding, so I go for it. There is some Taste the Difference beef gravy in my fridge. The tub says I should heat it up first, but I don’t have time for society’s stupid rules. I crack the top and peer down at the cold gelatinous gravy undulating beneath. I lift the tub, open my mouth and …
And I gag so loudly that someone in the next room also gags. How drunk does Christmas food make me? Not quite drunk enough to chug a pint of cold gravy, that’s how drunk.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, someone needs a nap.
