Raise a glass to the Great British tradition of booze, and the twelve drinks that made it what it is today… Cheers!
The history of Britain, perhaps more so than any other country, is defined by its drinking culture. Built on a foundation of pubs, clubs and watering holes, the UK has remained in the global top five for alcoholic intake per capita since 1700. It doesn’t matter how it comes – nip, schooner, pint or yard – we will always gladly have another.
But of such a vast and varied drinks menu, which are Britain’s favourites? Which have stood the test of time? And what do they say about our wider culture?
Steven Parissien’s Another Round? uncorks contemporary Britain’s relationship with booze in twelve very different drinks. From the 1950’s classic Babysham, to the house party favourite WKD, these flagship brands reflected and redefined British culture and politics.
For better or worse, the story of postwar Britain can be found at the bottom of every glass.
Dr Steven Parissien is an internationally-renowned author who has written extensively on architectural and cultural history. He is the director of Compton Verney museum and gallery in Warwickshire.
A pleasantly-read social history of post-WW2 Britain. We start with gin and tonic, and while we have to go back way before Hogarth et al, we do so to get the history of gin, before focusing on how its flopping in popularity was a result of all those civil service and military bigwigs from the Empire coming back here to Civvy Street. It wasn't their fault personally, but they were getting on a bit, and so were the people gin was being advertised to and with. Nowadays, premium flavoured gins are very much on point, and no self-respecting bar is without a few brands to upscale their sale of ice cubes with.
Next it's Babycham, tying in with the changes seen on TV, and initially speaking to women seeking some post-war cushtiness, but yet to have a bounce back into consciousness. And you get the drift – some chapters are more concentrated on the history of the brand/drink, while others tie more successfully into the outside world – the brewing world becoming owned by only six brands an indicator of the homogenisation happening in other industries, where behemoths of cars, steel and ship-building ended up costing us all dearly. There's a correlation between Anglo-US relations and our consumption of cocktails, apparently. Some brands are not just matched to our history, but making it – hello, Guinness.
The author can certainly get snippy about some of the brands he's discussing (and Brexit, when he feels like it, too). Blue Nun is deemed irredeemably sweet and bad, and the word here is the whole German wine market has never recovered from its perception and success – ignoring the sentiment that 'they keep the good stuff for themselves', said in Blue Nun days and ever since. And I fail to see the big difference between the gaudy, tweenage appeal of a luridly coloured WKD Blue and the gaudy, tweenage appeal of the luridly coloured, mahoosively advertised Aperol Spritz. They're both horridly dayglo, and both fine for drinking on park benches – just one is portrayed with ice, ergo is adult, and the WKD is not. I'm sure I'd like both equally.
This was a fine read – the author is companionable through his very knowledge, and apparent experience with the various tipples. It's a book that recognises and acknowledges drinking as one of Britain's prevalent hobbies, and keenly necessary for the budget and for NHS funding, and therefore well worth examination. Also, it's just fun to see the arc of these brands – and with the other British tendency to back the underdog to the fore here you come out of this with an urge to rush out and buy the local Cherry B four-pack, to keep that company alive. It was quite thirst-inducing, all told, but an enjoyable read – and a strong four per cent. I mean, a strong four stars.
Cheers to history—with a twist of lime." Another Round? is a fascinating, funny, and surprisingly sharp deep-dive into Britain's booze-soaked past. Steven Parissien doesn't just list drinks; he uses them to tell the story of postwar Britain through shifting tastes, political vibes, gender roles, marketing gimmicks, and even colonial hangovers (literally, in the case of gin and tonic).
Each chapter is centred on one iconic drink: Babycham, Harveys Bristol Cream, Watney's Red, WKD, and more and how it shaped or reflected a particular moment in British cultural life. From the optimism of the '50s to the chaos of the '90s, this book connects the dots between what people were pouring and what was happening around them.
What I liked most was that it made cultural history feel totally readable. You don't need to be a historian or a drinks connoisseur to enjoy this. It's bright but never dull, and it has a real sense of humour. There's also something deeply relatable about tracking a nation's identity through the drinks it loves, hates, and eventually forgets.
If you're into quirky non-fiction, British culture, or love a good anecdote served with a splash of social commentary this one's for you.
Thank you Netgalley and August books for supplying me with an e-ARC in exchange for my honest review.