Under the influence with Bernard O'Shea: Is apple cider vinegar all it's cracked up to be?

Bernard O'Shea found it impossible to know if a fortnight of punishing his taste buds had affected his cholesterol or bacterial gut health. However, it has made one big difference in his life. Picture: Moya Nolan

Every summer in the '80s, my father would herd us into the car in Laois to visit his family in West Kerry. It was a gruelling four-hour-long, pre-motorway journey and we'd come back on the same day too.

We had a blue Toyota Corolla with a green door that had well over 100,000 miles on the clock. To fit us all in, I’d have to get into the boot. My mother used to say: “If you need anything Bernard, shout.” By the time we’d get to Nenagh, the only thing I’d be shouting for was oxygen.

My granny would be puffing away happily on her Player's Navy Cut cigarettes and demand that all the windows be closed in case any of us would “get an earache”. Through the smoke, my three sisters fought admirably for every inch of space, while I'd be praying in the near darkness: “Dear God, please don’t let the traffic be bad in Newcastle West.”

We would stop off in the same restaurant in Limerick City every single time. I would always try to order something from the 'adult' menu, but my father would bellow out: “YOU WON’T LIKE IT.” This would be followed by: “He will have something off the kiddies menu.” I’d always end up getting sausage and chips.

On one of those trips in 1985, I tried vinegar on my chips for the first time and spat it out in disgust. It did not go down well with my parents. I couldn’t actually believe that people put something like that on their food. As I slumped grudgingly back into the boot of the car like a hostage from a 1970’s mafia film, I contemplated asking my granny for a cigarette to get the taste of it out of my mouth. I haven’t touched vinegar since and despise the stuff.

Every time I go to the supermarket, I purposely head to the health section to see what elixir is being flaunted as the new wonder food. The winner currently seems to be the bright yellow-and-red bottle of Bragg’s apple cider vinegar. Its cloudy contents resemble fresh apple juice pressed from the garden of Eden itself. The label exclaims that it's organic. It looks wholesome and trustworthy. But I know better. I've been tricked by vinegar before.

So when I Googled it, I was surprised to see that there is a staunch cohort of people who swear by its benefits. 

According to the American website healthline.com: “Apple cider vinegar has various healthful properties, including antimicrobial and antioxidant effects. What’s more, evidence suggests it may offer health benefits, such as aiding weight loss, reducing cholesterol, lowering blood sugar levels, and improving the symptoms of diabetes.”

I hate vinegar but, if swallowing a cupful of it every morning could make me lose weight instead of having to exercise and eat more kale, I was willing to revisit my old culinary foe.

The cloudy contents of Bragg's Apple Cider Vinegar resembled fresh apple juice pressed from the garden of Eden itself

The first morning I opened the bottle, I was surprised by its smell. It didn’t smell like normal vinegar. It smelt of rotten adolescent apples that had given themselves an apple-scented Lynx shower. I thought: “Maybe vinegar has come on since 1985.” I poured about a double whiskey amount into a glass and swallowed it whole.

It initially tasted vile and then it got violent — really, really violent. My nose was smouldered with the aroma of mouldy death, not organic apples. The back of my tongue was trying to leave my mouth, while the tip was looking left and right to see if there was anything in the kitchen it could jump out on to. All my oral faculties kept producing saliva, compounding more of the rotten flavour in my gob.

I started looking around the presses to find anything that would banish the acidic nightmare from my cavities. I eventually found a half-empty jar of Nutella that I'd hidden from the kids. I brushed my teeth with it using my finger and, eventually, my mouth returned to some form of palatable normality.

The next few mornings I tried mixing it with various things like honey, water, mint tea and coffee (health warning: don’t try it). I thought about mixing it with the Nutella again, but I knew this would more than likely diminish its weight-loss capabilities. So, for two weeks I just swallowed it quickly followed by downing a glass of water as fast as humanly possible.

It's impossible to know if a fortnight of punishing my taste buds has affected my cholesterol or my bacterial gut health. This is what annoys me about food trends. Sometimes the supposed benefits are so elusive that they seem forged out of an illusion. So infinitesimal, but backed by enough marketing firmament to persuade you to into buying it. 

Hope has always sold well. So I’m very cynical about how apple cider vinegar has come to such providence. 

However, it has made one big difference in my life. It might just be my biological make-up but, ever since I've started gulping this putrid liquid down every morning, I’ve stopped being so gassy. I’m lactose intolerant so breaking wind frequently comes with my digestive territory. I’ve also constantly suffered from heartburn my whole life and that's stopped too. 

As cynical as I am about its supposed health benefits, I haven’t farted or belched once while writing this article. If my gaseous level was at nine before my vinegary experiment, it's now at a decent two.

Maybe there was room for me in the car all those years ago going to Kerry? In fairness, who wants to spend six hours sitting in a confined space with a flatulent six-year-old? 

One thing hasn’t changed though: I still don’t like vinegar on my chips and never will.