If there’s one thing that always reminds me of growing up, it’s that familiar blue and white bottle of Andrews Liver Salts sitting proudly in the bathroom cupboard. My dad swore by it! Whether it was a big Sunday roast that left him feeling a bit full, or one too many pints down the local, out would come the Andrews.
With a fizz that seemed to instantly lift the mood, Andrews was the miracle cure for everything – well, according to Dad anyway. Overindulgence? Andrews. Upset stomach? Andrews. Even if you weren’t quite sure what was wrong, the answer was usually, “Just have some Andrews!” That chalky taste was part of the ritual, and though it wasn’t the most pleasant, it worked its magic every time.
It wasn’t just our family
