Doctor-approved sleep tricks all Brits can follow for an optimum night's rest
If you're struggling to fall asleep and then stay in the land of nod, we might have found the simple tweaks to your lifestyle and routine that could change all of that
Struggling to drift off at night? You're far from alone - one in seven Brits reportedly get less than 5 hours of sleep per night. But the answer to better rest might be simple, it could be as easy as changing the time you shower, doing a bit of stretching, or both - and this is backed by science. With just a few tweaks to your routine, you could be sleeping like a baby.
Showering later in the evening might be your best bet. Dr, Bhavini Shah from LloydsPharmacy teamed up with Mira Showers to explain the science behind it.
'As bedtime approaches, the body's core temperature naturally drops while the skin temperature of the hands and feet rises.' She says 'Scientists suggest that warm water immersion supports this natural thermoregulation process, leading to improved sleep.
She also shared how a warm shower can help to relax your muscles and calm your mind - reducing physical tension and the mental stress which may keep you awake at night.
To get the most out of it, aim for a 10-15 minute warm shower about an hour before bed. But showers aside, there are a few more simple steps which could help and Emily Robertson from Mira Showers shared a go-to bedtime routine that's worth trying.
Shower at the perfect time
'Shower about 60-90 minutes before you plan to sleep. This gives your body the perfect amount of time to cool down naturally, which signals to your brain that it's bedtime. Think of it as setting your internal sleep timer.'
Keep the water warm, not boiling
'Aim for warm water around 40°C - that's like the temperature of a nice cup of tea. When water is too hot, it can actually energise you and make falling asleep harder. But be sure to end with around 30 seconds of cool water. This gentle temperature drop helps kickstart your body's natural cooling.
Make a sleep signal
'Have your shower at the same time each night as part of your wind-down routine. Your body loves patterns - when you shower consistently before bed, your brain starts to recognise this as a cue that sleep time is approaching, making it easier to drift off when your head hits the pillow.
Gentle stretches
'A few simple stretches can release physical tension. Focus on your neck, shoulders, and back - areas where we tend to hold stress. Just 5 minutes can make a big difference.'
Disconnect to reconnect
'Put away phones, tablets, and laptops at least 30 minutes before bedtime. The blue light from screens tricks your brain into thinking it's still daytime. Instead, try reading a physical book or magazine under soft lighting.'
While there are many sleep myths, you can be sure this one will transform your sleep making you feel more energised throughout the day.
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Scottish Sun
4 hours ago
- Scottish Sun
Does honey really do anything to ease hay fever symptoms? I tried it for a week and grilled experts to find out
Click to share on X/Twitter (Opens in new window) Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) HAY fever season has well and truly arrived. And with a staggering 16million Brits affected, it's no wonder we are always on the lookout for a miracle cure. Sign up for Scottish Sun newsletter Sign up 4 Some people swear by honey as a natural hay fever remedy, but does it really work? Credit: Getty A growing number of TikTok influencers - and some family members - claim local honey is the wonder hack guaranteed to ease your itchy eyes and runny nose. And a quick social media or Google search brings up dozens of posts claiming that a spoonful is all it takes to provide the relief you need. The theory is that local honey contains small amounts of pollen from nearby plants, and by consuming it, your immune system becomes accustomed to the pollen, reducing sensitivity and the severity of reactions over time. But is there any scientific research to back up the claims? Sadly, GP Dr Helen Wall says the evidence is 'slim'. 'Some small studies and anecdotal reports suggest that locally sourced, unprocessed honey might reduce symptoms,' she tells Sun Health. 'It is based on the idea that it could act like a natural desensitisation process. 'Desensitisation is a therapy that can be used to cure allergies by slowly introducing the allergen in small amounts so the immune system can get used to it. 'But controlled clinical trials are lacking and systematic reviews do not support honey as an effective treatment for hay fever.' Despite what you may hear, honey does not work like an antihistamine. When your hay fever symptoms could really be signs of cancer 'Antihistamines are medications that block histamine receptors which then prevent the release of a chemical called histamine, which is released when your body thinks it has come across a threat,' Dr Wall says. 'It is meant to be a protective mechanism, but in people with allergies, histamine is triggered unhelpfully and this is what causes allergy symptoms. 'Honey does not block histamine receptors so it doesn't work in the same way as many medications would.' And if you stop taking your usual medicine, you may find your symptoms worsen. 'If someone relies solely on honey, they may suffer from poorly controlled hay fever which can impair sleep, concentration and quality of life,' Dr Wall says. 'It often builds up over time, so getting on top of it early can be beneficial. 'I recommend starting antihistamines and steroid sprays four weeks before hay fever starts in those known to suffer. 'In people with allergic asthma, untreated hay fever can worsen respiratory symptoms and trigger asthma.' Some patients will swear by local honey, and I don't doubt their experience, but medically I can't explain it nor recommend it Dr Sophie Farooque Dr Sophie Farooque, a consultant allergist at Imperial College Healthcare NHS Trust and one of the UK's leading allergy experts, says that while local honey may be 'delicious' and soothe a scratchy throat, there is little scientific evidence that it will reduce symptoms. 'The theory that honey may help stems from the idea that pollens contained in honey will desensitise you,' she says. 'However the pollen in honey is from flowers and not from the pollen that causes hay fever, which is from tree, grass and weed pollens.' 4 Many of us are plagued by constant sneezing when the pollen count is high Credit: Getty A 2002 study by the University of Connecticut compared taking a tablespoon of locally produced, unfiltered honey with a tablespoon of nationally produced pasteurised honey, and honey flavoured corn syrup (the placebo) in patients with hay fever. None of the three groups noticed a reduction in the symptoms. Further research in Malaysia evaluated 40 patients with hay fever and divided them into two groups. Half ate honey and half did not. 'Those who consumed the honey noticed a very slight reduction in symptoms compared to those that didn't, but participants had to eat a jar a week every day for months and the pollen in Malaysian honey will be different to the UK,' Dr Farooque adds. 'Some patients will swear by local honey, and I don't doubt their experience, but medically I can't explain it nor recommend it. 'There isn't good data and scientifically, it doesn't make sense. 'If patients want to go drug-free then saline rinses have far stronger evidence and I often suggest these. 'Of course eat honey for pleasure, but not in the belief that by doing so you are desensitising yourself and reversing the common immunological processes that cause seasonal allergies. It's a myth.' Hay fever first aid kit Analyse your symptoms and find the best medication kit for you... Antihistamines Antihistamines (cetirizine or loratadine) work by blocking histamine in the body, which is released when the body detects something it thinks is harmful. Histamine causes blood vessels to expand and the skin to swell, but in people with hay fever, also causes an allergic reaction. That's the watering eyes, blocked nose, rashes and so on. Max Wiseberg, airborne allergens expert and creator of HayMax, says that many antihistamines are available on prescription, such as Telfast, which you can see your GP for or get through an online doctor, such as LloydsPharmacy. Telfast, and other prescription-only antihistamine tablets, work in the same way as over-the-counter antihistamines, but are stronger and intended to help with more severe symptoms. 'Get your prescription in advance of the season so you have your medication in time to start taking it at the right time,' he says. 'Some are best taken at least one month before the hay fever season starts." Nasal sprays A nasal spray can be effective in controlling congestion and stuffiness. Pharmacists can advise on nasal sprays (sodium cromoglicate, ipratropium bromide or decongestant), and eye drops, too. Nasal sprays can also help with other symptoms of hay fever 'because the medicine is targeted directly to the nose, which is where the vast majority of allergens enter the body', Max says. Independent pharmacist Rita Ghelani says: 'Try Xlear nasal spray, which contains xylitol, and has anti-bacterial properties and keeps the nasal lining moist. 'If symptoms are more severe, then try an anti-inflammatory nasal spray – sometimes referred to as a steroid nasal spray – which can take a few days to work. 'Start with one that contains beclomethasone, which is used twice a day, in the morning and at night.' Rita also advises cleaning the nose with a saline nasal spray before a steroid spray, saying: 'It will remove sticky mucus from the nasal passage, thus improving the effectiveness of the medication.' Eye drops If itchy eyes are your primary concern, Rita says: 'Try using sodium cromoglicate eye drops. "These make the eyes less sensitive to allergens such as pollen and reduce irritation. "They need to be used four times a day to keep the levels of the active ingredient high enough to be effective. "Keep using them even if symptoms improve. 'Using a good eye drop to lubricate the eyes may also help with dry eyes during the summer months.' While it might not help with your hay fever sniffles, honey does of course have other health benefits. Researchers at the University of Oxford found it can effectively relieve cough and cold symptoms. It also contains vitamins, minerals, enzymes and phytochemicals, which are anti-inflammatory and contain cancer-fighting antioxidants. But that doesn't mean it's good for everyone, as it's also very high in sugar. Dietitian Emma Shafqat said one tablespoon contains around 6g, so she recommends consuming it 'in moderation'. Excess sugar intake can contribute to tooth decay, weight gain and blood sugar spikes, so people with diabetes should take particular care. Emma added that honey should not be given to children under the age of one as there is a risk of botulism - a rare but serious condition where the body's nerves are attacked by a toxin. MY TEST 4 The Sun's Lynsey Hope tested local honey for a week Credit: Supplied HAVING suffered from hay fever since I was a teenager, I was keen to put this theory to the test. While the evidence is scant, lots of people swear by honey so I was hopeful it might have some effect. First of all, I had to work out how much to take. Researchers recommend around 1g per kilogram of body weight daily. For a person weighing 80kg, this is four tablespoons a day. I weigh about 60kg so that means around 2.8 tbsp. That's quite a lot and I was concerned about the extra sugar in my diet. But if it could stop the itchy eyes and sneezing, I was happy to give it a go! I bought a jar of Kentish honey from a farm shop near me. It wasn't cheap, costing a whopping £8.45. I started taking some in the morning with breakfast and stopped taking my antihistamines. Quercetin is a flavonoid found in apples, onions and berries. It has anti-inflammatory and antihistamine-like effects Dr Helen Wall I definitely loved having it in my porridge, but I'm not sure it had any effect. The pollen count was exceptionally high on the week of the test and my itchy eyes and sneezing continued as normal. I struggled to sleep because of it too and after seven days, I had to go back on the antihistamines as I looked as though I'd been crying. I admit to being disappointed. I'd far rather have taken honey to ease my symptoms than medication. But it just didn't do the job. 4 Scientists say local honey likely won't help treat your itchy eyes Credit: Getty DO ANY NATURAL REMEDIES WORK? SO honey doesn't work, but what else can you try? Nasal irrigation is the 'strongest contender' for a natural hay fever remedy, according to Dr Wall. She says a saline rinse may flush out allergens and reduce congestion. As a treatment, it is safe and low risk. But there are other options to try. 'Quercetin is a flavonoid found in apples, onions and berries,' Helen says. 'It has anti-inflammatory and antihistamine-like effects. 'Again there is limited evidence in humans but there have been some positive results in reducing nasal symptoms in particular, and these are foods which are good for you anyway.' Some studies have also found spirulina (blue-green algae) may work as a treatment. It's thought to reduce allergic rhinitis symptoms and it's an anti-inflammatory and an antioxidant. A 2018 Chinese study also recommended acupuncture as an effective treatment, particularly for nasal congestion and sneezing.
New Statesman
7 hours ago
- New Statesman
How Britain fell into the K-hole
When we hear that Elon Musk was prescribed ketamine, as he admitted in 2024, what are we supposed to conclude? Is it a sign that ketamine has entered the mainstream of 21st-century culture? Is it a part of a Silicon Valley wellness vogue, or illicit drug culture? Does it connect to Musk's nihilistic right-wing politics, or to the rainbow psychedelia of Burning Man? Is it therapy, or is ketamine itself the problem? Ketamine has certainly entered the mainstream of cultural reference, and the mainstream of recreational life, in the UK as well as the US. An estimated 269,000 Brits aged 16-59 years old used the drug in the year ending March 2024. But despite its prevalence, there remains little consensus about what the drug represents, or indeed what it actually does. Opium had Thomas De Quincey, acid had Hunter S Thompson, but no laureate of ketamine has yet emerged to guide the curious reader through the experience or share the insights that changed their life. Casual observers may have some impression of what a ketamine user looks like from the outside – somewhere on a spectrum from stumbling to comatose – but little idea of the state of consciousness they are experiencing. But we might have expected this. Unlike, say, cannabis, cocaine or mushrooms, ketamine has no deep history or hinterland: it is a product of pharmaceutical modernity. In the last 50 years, however, it has been put to many different uses, accruing layers of meaning that bleed across one another: from medicine to drug of abuse, dancefloor high to mystical experience. Its multiple identities mirror the broad spectrum of its effects. Depending on the dose and method of administration, it can be anything from a mild and pleasant giddiness to a white-knuckle ride into another dimension. Nonetheless, there is something about the experience of ketamine that is uniquely resistant to description. It lacks the signature qualities of other psychedelics; there are no recognisable visual motifs or classic movie depictions of ketamine trips. Its hallmarks are a dissociation of mind from body, felt in large doses as an intense acceleration into an inner space where sensation, dream and memory blur. Time and space become unmoored, reality seems to be constantly shifting; after 20 minutes or so, the pace slows and the external world gradually reasserts itself. The experience is pin-sharp and vivid in the moment but elusive in hindsight, like returning to consciousness after an anaesthetic. Which, in fact, is exactly what's happening. In its original incarnation ketamine was a surgical anaesthetic, developed by Parke-Davis (once America's oldest and largest drug maker) and first deployed in the early 1970s, notably in the Vietnam War. It was ideal for military use because, unlike most anaesthetics of the day, it didn't require continuous infusion or special breathing apparatus: a simple intramuscular injection was enough to separate consciousness from body for the duration of an emergency procedure. Its disadvantage, however, was what became known as 'emergence reactions': on regaining consciousness, patients complained of confusion and nightmarish hallucinations. A new generation of anaesthetics, notably Propofol, soon came onstream to replace it, and ketamine found its place in veterinary surgeries, where the patients registered no complaints about its side effects. My first sight of ketamine was in the late 1980s, in the south of France, when a troubled rich-kid movie producer from California produced a medical vial of clear liquid and a needle and announced that this was the latest miracle treatment for substance abuse. He had been given it by John Lilly, the cybernetics and consciousness researcher who had famously taken huge doses of LSD in a sensory deprivation tank. 'Vitamin K', as it was often referred to in these circles, was one of several novel mind-altering compounds that had recently emerged from the clandestine West Coast network of underground chemists and psychotherapists. Others, most of them known by a cryptic alphabet soup of initials, would turn out to include MDMA, or ecstasy. If emergence reactions were unwelcome in Vietnam, to the psychedelic underground they were not a bug but an infinitely fascinating feature. Lilly was among the early adopters to discover that 150mg of injected ketamine, around a quarter of the full anaesthetic dose, catapulted the user almost immediately into an experience comparable in intensity to the peak of a huge LSD trip. Taking multiple doses in his sensory deprivation tank, Lilly left his body 'floating in a tank on the planet Earth' and conversed with extra-terrestrial intelligences as they ushered him through an ever-expanding series of alternate universes. Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe Gradually a new generation of researchers, including the psychiatrist Karl Jansen, based in Maudsley Hospital in London, began to investigate ketamine's phenomenological properties by interviewing users and recording their testimonies. Subjects spoke of immersion in dazzling white light, rollercoaster rides through the cosmos, lucid dreams, telepathy, meeting their higher selves and becoming God. Jansen wrote a book, Ketamine: Dreams and Realities (2004), and joined a small vanguard of therapists who took advantage of ketamine's status as a licensed medicine to incorporate the experience into psychotherapy, harnessing it to treat alcohol and other addictions. By this time, however, it was clear that ketamine had its own addictive potential. John Lilly was taking it compulsively to connect with his extra-terrestrials, and became convinced that he was a time traveller from the year 3001; his friends and family were obliged to stop him from trying to return to the future for good by hiding his supply and eventually checking him into a psychiatric hospital. Another early advocate was Marcia Moore, a yoga teacher and therapist who explored the drug extensively with her anaesthetist husband, and whose memoir Journeys into the Bright World (1978) remains one of very few sustained attempts to write the ketamine experience. Moore likely froze to death after taking a huge dose in a snow-covered forest in Washington state, and her husband withdrew her book from circulation. By the early Nineties ketamine had entered the UK and was circulating in London, along with the new wave of 'designer drugs', among the psychedelic vanguard of the ecstasy generation. I remember its first devotees as cerebral types, often maths, chess or computing obsessives who became compulsive explorers of its Escher-esque inner worlds. They were astonished to learn that people were taking it in techno clubs: how could you dance while you were having an out-of-body experience? But ketamine, not for the last time, was in the process of taking on another identity, together with a new physical form. The pharmaceutical vials of liquid solution were being replaced by wraps of powder, thanks to the discovery that ketamine was legally available from veterinary suppliers in India. A litre could be brought back on a plane in a drinking water bottle and, when evaporated in a low oven, converted into a mound of fluffy, crystalline white needles, which would cover the cost of the next exotic holiday. The convenience of the powder form made ketamine a staple of dance and rave events. Small sniffs or 'bumps' could be shared on the dancefloor and, especially when combined with ecstasy, produced an agreeably woozy, floaty sensation, like dancing on the moon. It could equally be mixed with cocaine, the cocktail known as a Calvin Klein ('C' plus 'K'), which tempered its dissociative effects with a stimulant and euphoric buzz that sharpened physical, verbal, social or sexual engagement. [See also: Inside the psychedelic elite] All this time ketamine had been quasi-legal, a licensed veterinary product but not a banned drug: a status reflected in its seemingly obligatory media labelling as a 'horse tranquillizer'. By 2005, however, its presence had become too conspicuous to ignore, and it was added to class C of the controlled drug schedules by Tony Blair's government. The effect, as usual, was the opposite of control. Organised crime moved in to supply it along with MDMA and cocaine, spreading it further into the mainstream of the era's booming drug culture. At first, the risk of addiction was considered the main danger of ketamine. The occasional deaths associated with it were typically the consequence of temporary incapacity, for instance drowning in the bath under its influence, a risk now all too familiar after Matthew Perry's highly publicised death in 2023. But in 2007, an entirely unsuspected risk of chronic use was described for the first time: 'ketamine bladder', a syndrome of damage to the lower urinary tract, which in serious cases requires reconstructive surgery or a urostomy bag. In its days as a surgical anaesthetic, patients had never used ketamine regularly enough to make this side effect apparent. From this point on, it became a significant health harm for a growing cohort of heavy users. The mid-2000s was the era that shaped ketamine's enduring image: at once illegal, medically risky, and wildly popular. Its ascendancy as a club drug was indicated by the emergence of dubstep, a genre that was immediately identified as both cause and effect of its spread. Like the drug itself, the sound combined a compulsive rush with a dislocated, mechanised aesthetic, darker and more disembodied than the ecstasy-fuelled styles that preceded it. The term 'wonky' emerged to describe both the music and the chemical dissociation that enhanced it. Literary accounts of ketamine remained elusive, but the drug now had its bespoke soundtrack. In 2014 the UK government responded to its growing popularity by raising its legal status to class B. Since then, levels of use have continued to climb, most sharply among 18- to 24-year-olds, whose usage has tripled in the last nine years. Yet ketamine continued to shapeshift. Just as it consolidated its image as a cheap and disreputable club drug, the psychedelic renaissance arrived with grand claims for its potential as an adjunct to psychotherapy, amplified by celebrity endorsements across the spectrum from Gwyneth Paltrow to Ryan Reynolds, Michael Phelps to Sharon Osbourne. Unlike psilocybin, MDMA and the other psychedelics being promoted for this purpose, it had the advantage of being already licensed as a medicine, which meant that psychotherapists could administer it legally. In the US, particularly California, ketamine clinics mushroomed into a healthcare sector now valued at almost $4bn. Their use of the drug was off-label, meaning that it was only accessible to private patients, typically at hundreds of dollars per dose. Some now offer it by mail order and administer the accompanying therapy via a phone call; others sell it with no therapy component at all. The first UK ketamine clinic, Awakn, opened in Bristol in 2020, charging £6,000 for a course of injections in a clinical setting for the treatment of anxiety, depression, PTSD and addiction. But it closed down in 2024 because of struggles to recruit private patients, and following an allegation of sexual misconduct against its most prominent practitioner. There are, however, many who have found ketamine invaluable for treating depression and PTSD without professional help. How it works is unclear – psychiatrists often resort to the old metaphors used for electroconvulsive therapy (ECT), 'whacking the TV set' or 'shaking the snow globe' – but it seems to offer a jolt that disrupts fixed and overly rigid patterns of thinking. If its action is essentially physiological, as this suggests, it's no surprise that many choose to self-medicate rather than seek mental healthcare that is unaffordable for most and unavailable on the NHS. There is no waiting list for ketamine. With the advent of the dark web, and now the profusion of social media channels such as Telegram and bot sites that make it simple to call up 24-hour delivery via your phone, the drug is more readily available than ever. Jeet Heer recently reaffirmed in the Nation that it is 'the drug of our time', as cannabis was to the Sixties or cocaine to the Seventies. But its prevalence doesn't reflect a single social trend so much as the diversity of niches it has colonised across 21st-century culture. In different doses and contexts, it can be a social lubricant or an intense visionary experience, a blast of sublime confusion or a psychiatric medication. For all these, its essential promise is that it will – reliably, briefly and relatively safely – make reality feel very different. Web-based distribution has personalised and atomised the contexts in which ketamine is used; it is now, like the internet itself, something of an every-drug. Many of the niches it now occupies existed already, created by other substances. As a relief from depression or anxiety, it serves a similar purpose to sedatives such as Xanax or Valium; as a rocket ship to inner space, it rivals other short-acting psychedelics such as DMT; as an aid to psychotherapy, it compares to MDMA or psilocybin; as a dancefloor party-starter, to cocaine. At the most desperate end of the spectrum, it has established itself firmly in the bargain-basement niche for oblivion-seekers once claimed by glue and solvents. The pandemic played havoc with drug supply chains and mass socialising, but ketamine seems to have benefited from it: wastewater surveys suggest that its use in Britain has increased as much as 85 per cent in the last few years. For those who withdrew into their screens and their bedrooms, it was private and easily manageable even at large doses, and it has now overtaken MDMA in popularity among 18- to 24-year-olds. For those who find social events enervating or overwhelming in the wake of the lockdowns, it offers a 20-minute respite in the corner of a crowded party. For others, it makes it easier to tolerate bleak living conditions, overcrowding and fuel poverty. Underpinning all these selling points is a simple one: ketamine remains cheap, at £20 a gram or less, enough for a mind-bending session for a few friends at less than the price of a round of beers. In a sense it has become the alcohol of drug culture: ubiquitous and multi-purpose, both social and antisocial. Like alcohol, the balance of its health consequences is undoubtedly negative, but it's not hard to understand its appeal as a holiday from reality, an accompaniment to a wide range of pleasures, or a palliative for what ails you. [See also: British psychiatry on the brink] Related
Daily Mirror
10 hours ago
- Daily Mirror
Warning to anyone eating chicken from the fridge in strict storage rule
Chicken leftovers are a great way to reduce food wastage, but experts say there are three key warning signs the meat is past its best Storing leftover chicken is a touchy subject among Brits - it's a meat that can spoil quickly, and the impacts of eating gone-off chicken are just hideous. If you're always having leftovers or would rather batch cook to save some of your time, and chicken is one of your go-to protein sources, you might want to take notes on how to store it safely. We've all had our doubts whenever we've pulled out a cooked chicken from the fridge from a few days ago. When it comes to cooking, after storage, certain foods can give you a stomach ache and even food poisoning. READ MORE: Lemons stay fresh for a month if kept in unlikely kitchen location How long does cooked chicken last in the fridge According to Real Simple, cooked chicken can stay in the fridge for up to four days. After it's been a few days, simply assess the condition and decide whether it's safe for you to eat it. When examining the chicken, you must check for three things, it says. It explained: 'If the chicken is not yet showing any signs of spoilage (poor smell, smile, or discolouration), you may still be able to eat it or freeze it to preserve it longer.' You can check if the chicken (and any meat) has gone bad by smelling it and also checking its colour. Spoiled chicken has an unpleasant smell and a slimy texture, and it might also have turned grey or green. If in doubt, just throw it away If the chicken is still okay to consume, the site said to thoroughly cook it again to an internal temperature of 73 degrees Celsius to make sure that it's safe to eat. Can you store raw chicken in the freezer? Many households are trying to find different ways to extend the shelf-life of their freshly-store-bought produce. If it has been a couple of days since the raw chicken has been sitting in the fridge, and you're worried about it going bad, freezing it is an option to prolong its consumption. As per the website, raw chicken can last up to nine months when stored in the freezer. However, it's important to freeze it within a day or store after bringing it home from the supermarket. To do so, use a vacuum-sealed bag or an air-tight container. Also, make sure to package it correctly to maintain its freshness and quality and labelling it accordingly can help you know when it's time to finally chuck it out - or whether it's still ok to eat.
