Yesterday I was talking to a friend who is counting the days until the end of January. Not because it’s a dark, dank month (although it undeniably is), but because she’s given up alcohol until February 1st. “Why?” I wanted to know. “Why have you decided to give up one of life’s remaining pleasures when we have so few left?”
I do understand the impulse for self-denial, there’s something satisfyingly Puritanical about it. We all quite like the idea of leading better, healthier, purer lives, but normally I leave it to other people. They seem so good at it. This past year, however, I have been forced to follow a path of self-denial myself and I haven’t enjoyed it one bit.
For much of the year we have been denied the company of our friends and family. In Britain right now an individual is allowed to meet up with one person they don’t live with, but it must be outside, socially distanced and they must keep moving. You may not meet two people and you may not stop. Sitting in the church lych-gate enjoying a chilly coffee with a friend is a distant and far-off memory. Something we now aspire to. I know that we used to meet our friends in coffee shops, but that seems like a mirage from another time. So, we all take lots of bracing walks in the biting January wind. Which is very good for those with Puritanical urges.
When a muddy walk with a friend is the height of your social life, you know that these aren’t normal times. We’ve had to do without many things over the past year (the list is too long to mention and too difficult to think about) and I certainly didn’t wake up on January 1st wondering what else I could deny myself. Quite the opposite – I was wondering how I could indulge myself further.
I know I have something of a reputation as a lover of sparkling wine, but it may surprise people to learn that drinking even more crémant isn’t one of my ambitions. (Although I did admit to my friend battling through dry January that sometimes I struggle to manage a dry day at the moment, let alone a dry month.) The options for self-indulgence are currently fairly limited, but I’m open to suggestions. Perhaps the most outlandish thing we could do right now is to plan and book a wonderful holiday, clinging to the belief that it will actually happen. Faith is an indulgence too.
I tried dry January – I didn’t last a week, in fact I think I only managed two days. It was seeing the bottles of mulled wine in the cupboard that did it … and there was also the opened bottle of tonic in fridge. I couldn’t let it go flat, could I? I just had to add a slosh of Campari and a slice of orange.
I don’t think you should fight it – January is supposed to be wet.
Dry January finished today Sheridan – 22 days was enough ! I am a total failure but thoroughly enjoyed a Faustino 1 with with a sirloin steak. You were quite right – we have given up enough this past 12 months
Looking forward to the time we can share a bottle of Cremant with you and Clayton
My Crémant consumption has definitely dropped (unsurprisingly) during January but I can’t say it has been a totally dry month. Given the leftovers from Christmas my baking has slowed down too, I foresee that starting up again in February. Better start planning!