
Booze, Bubbles, and Blood Sugar Trouble
Alcohol and GI
Controlling blood glucose levels is essential for individuals with type 2 diabetes (T2D). Alcohol can affect glucose metabolism in several ways. It inhibits gluconeogenesis and the production of new glucose in the liver, which can lead to hypoglycaemia, particularly in patients taking glucose-lowering medications, such as insulin or secretagogues. Many alcoholic beverages also contain carbohydrates that increase blood sugar levels.
The carbohydrate content of beer varies according to its type, brewing method, and alcohol content. Light lagers and pilsners contain up to 3.5 g/100 mL. A 0.5-L glass delivers roughly 12-18 g, similar to a small slice of bread.
Wheat beers can contain up to 4.5 g/100 mL. This is due to the type of malt, the top-fermentation process, and the richer sugar content of the original wort, the sweet liquid extracted from malted grains before fermentation. Therefore, a standard pint can deliver more sugar than expected from a 'light' beer.
Jever Pilsener, a classic German pilsner, contains 4.9% alcohol. According to the manufacturer, 100 mL of this beer provides 157 kJ (40 kcal), 0 g fat, 1.1 g carbohydrates (of which sugars are less than 0.5 g), less than 0.5 g protein, and 0.02 g salt.
The combination of alcohol and rapidly absorbed carbohydrates can be potent. Blood glucose levels increase rapidly, triggering insulin release. Insulin drives glucose into muscle, liver, and fat cells. These levels can drop sharply, sometimes below normal, causing fatigue, irritability, poor concentration, and food cravings.
Nonalcoholic Beer
Nonalcoholic beer (≤ 0.5% alcohol) does not cause alcohol-induced hypoglycaemia. However, many varieties contain 4-6 g of carbohydrates per 100 mL.
In stopped fermentation, one method of producing nonalcoholic beer, fermentation is interrupted early. This leaves more fermentable sugars, such as glucose, fructose, and maltose, which are normally converted to alcohols. These sugars rapidly increase blood glucose levels.
Nonalcoholic beers often have a high GI because short-chain sugars are rapidly absorbed. GI measures how quickly and strongly a carbohydrate-containing food raises blood glucose levels compared with pure glucose (GI = 100).
Clausthaler Original, one of Germany's most widely exported alcohol-free beers, provides 108 kJ (26 kcal), 0 g fat, and 5.6 g carbohydrates (including 2.8 g sugars) per 100 mL, less than 0.5 g protein, and less than 0.01 g salt, according to the manufacturer.
Beer and Maltodextrin
Nonalcoholic beer often contains maltodextrin to improve mouthfeel, stabilise foam, or enhance body and viscosity despite the absence of alcohol. Its sweetness is low (less than 20% of that of sucrose), but its GI is high because amylases in the small intestine rapidly break it down into glucose.
Low-carbohydrate beers are brewed to ferment almost all sugars, leaving only small amounts of dextrins or other nonfermentable carbohydrates. This results in a lower glycaemic load and usually avoids additives such as maltodextrin. Maltodextrin is often used in nonalcoholic beers to improve texture but can raise blood glucose quickly.
Low-carbohydrate beers tend to have a higher alcohol content and a drier and sometimes bitter taste. Alcohol inhibits gluconeogenesis in the liver, an effect that is important for insulin-dependent diabetes, as it can increase the risk for low blood sugar overnight.
In the EU, food labelling rules do not require maltodextrin to be listed as 'sugar' because it is chemically a polysaccharide. It usually appears on labels simply as 'maltodextrin,' and when used as a technical additive, it may not appear at all. Alcohol-free beers can be marketed as 'low in sugar' while still raising blood glucose significantly.
Conclusion
Therefore, individuals with T2D should consume beer with caution. Alcoholic beer can trigger hypoglycaemia by affecting liver glucose production, particularly in patients taking glucose-lowering medications. Both alcoholic and nonalcoholic varieties may contain rapidly absorbed carbohydrates.
Nonalcoholic beers made with stopped fermentation or maltodextrin may have a high glycaemic load despite being marketed as healthy. Low-carbohydrate beers generally have a lower glycaemic load but usually contain more alcohol than regular beers. The effects vary depending on an individual's metabolic status.

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Understanding how malt, brewing methods, and a beer's glycaemic index (GI) affect the body is crucial for anyone monitoring blood sugar levels. Craft and specialty beers are becoming increasingly popular, but their effects on glucose levels are often overlooked. Even nonalcoholic beer, commonly considered a 'healthier' choice, can carry hidden risks. A closer look at what is in the glass reveals the gap between perception and reality. Alcohol and GI Controlling blood glucose levels is essential for individuals with type 2 diabetes (T2D). Alcohol can affect glucose metabolism in several ways. It inhibits gluconeogenesis and the production of new glucose in the liver, which can lead to hypoglycaemia, particularly in patients taking glucose-lowering medications, such as insulin or secretagogues. Many alcoholic beverages also contain carbohydrates that increase blood sugar levels. The carbohydrate content of beer varies according to its type, brewing method, and alcohol content. Light lagers and pilsners contain up to 3.5 g/100 mL. A 0.5-L glass delivers roughly 12-18 g, similar to a small slice of bread. Wheat beers can contain up to 4.5 g/100 mL. This is due to the type of malt, the top-fermentation process, and the richer sugar content of the original wort, the sweet liquid extracted from malted grains before fermentation. Therefore, a standard pint can deliver more sugar than expected from a 'light' beer. Jever Pilsener, a classic German pilsner, contains 4.9% alcohol. According to the manufacturer, 100 mL of this beer provides 157 kJ (40 kcal), 0 g fat, 1.1 g carbohydrates (of which sugars are less than 0.5 g), less than 0.5 g protein, and 0.02 g salt. The combination of alcohol and rapidly absorbed carbohydrates can be potent. Blood glucose levels increase rapidly, triggering insulin release. Insulin drives glucose into muscle, liver, and fat cells. These levels can drop sharply, sometimes below normal, causing fatigue, irritability, poor concentration, and food cravings. Nonalcoholic Beer Nonalcoholic beer (≤ 0.5% alcohol) does not cause alcohol-induced hypoglycaemia. However, many varieties contain 4-6 g of carbohydrates per 100 mL. In stopped fermentation, one method of producing nonalcoholic beer, fermentation is interrupted early. This leaves more fermentable sugars, such as glucose, fructose, and maltose, which are normally converted to alcohols. These sugars rapidly increase blood glucose levels. Nonalcoholic beers often have a high GI because short-chain sugars are rapidly absorbed. GI measures how quickly and strongly a carbohydrate-containing food raises blood glucose levels compared with pure glucose (GI = 100). Clausthaler Original, one of Germany's most widely exported alcohol-free beers, provides 108 kJ (26 kcal), 0 g fat, and 5.6 g carbohydrates (including 2.8 g sugars) per 100 mL, less than 0.5 g protein, and less than 0.01 g salt, according to the manufacturer. Beer and Maltodextrin Nonalcoholic beer often contains maltodextrin to improve mouthfeel, stabilise foam, or enhance body and viscosity despite the absence of alcohol. Its sweetness is low (less than 20% of that of sucrose), but its GI is high because amylases in the small intestine rapidly break it down into glucose. Low-carbohydrate beers are brewed to ferment almost all sugars, leaving only small amounts of dextrins or other nonfermentable carbohydrates. This results in a lower glycaemic load and usually avoids additives such as maltodextrin. Maltodextrin is often used in nonalcoholic beers to improve texture but can raise blood glucose quickly. Low-carbohydrate beers tend to have a higher alcohol content and a drier and sometimes bitter taste. Alcohol inhibits gluconeogenesis in the liver, an effect that is important for insulin-dependent diabetes, as it can increase the risk for low blood sugar overnight. In the EU, food labelling rules do not require maltodextrin to be listed as 'sugar' because it is chemically a polysaccharide. It usually appears on labels simply as 'maltodextrin,' and when used as a technical additive, it may not appear at all. Alcohol-free beers can be marketed as 'low in sugar' while still raising blood glucose significantly. Conclusion Therefore, individuals with T2D should consume beer with caution. Alcoholic beer can trigger hypoglycaemia by affecting liver glucose production, particularly in patients taking glucose-lowering medications. Both alcoholic and nonalcoholic varieties may contain rapidly absorbed carbohydrates. Nonalcoholic beers made with stopped fermentation or maltodextrin may have a high glycaemic load despite being marketed as healthy. Low-carbohydrate beers generally have a lower glycaemic load but usually contain more alcohol than regular beers. The effects vary depending on an individual's metabolic status.


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'If your period is late, here's what you do: Boil up half a bottle of red wine and drink it while it's hot. Then stand on a chair and jump off several times. That should take care of it.' It was March 1957, and I'd just finished packing my trunk. I would be leaving the next day to sail from England to the United States, where I would marry Ezra, my soldier-fiancé. Those were my mother's final words of advice. Not 'never go to bed angry,' or 'pick your battles,' but how to abort a fetus. Her recommendation was unusual. Knitting needles were the instrument of choice for many British women trying to abort. Fewer Americans are knitters, so before Roe v. Wade made abortion legal in 1973, many women in the United States — or individuals from whom they sought assistance to end their pregnancies — used wire coat hangers. My mother believed her alternative method was a safe one. I smiled to myself, for I was pretty sure her instructions were useless. 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But, more than that, I knew I couldn't handle taking care of another baby. Life was just beginning to feel normal. The prospect of dealing with a fourth child filled me with dread. I made an appointment with my obstetrician, who confirmed I was pregnant. 'I suppose I'll have to resign myself to having another baby,' I said, my eyes stinging with tears. 'We thought our family was complete. I don't know how I'm going to manage. I'm afraid it'll push me over the edge.' 'It sounds as if you might not want another baby,' my doctor said. 'No. I really don't. I'm stretched so thin already.' 'Go home and talk to your husband. If the two of you decide you definitely don't want to continue the pregnancy, here's what you'll do,' he told me. 'Call my office and tell them you are having a lot of bleeding. They will tell you to go to the emergency room, and I'll meet you there.' I had been looking down into my purse, groping for a tissue. I felt my jaw drop as I raised my eyes to meet his. He was smiling and nodding slowly as he spoke. In his subtle, gentle way, he was offering me a choice — one I'd never anticipated would be possible for me. A sense of relief washed over my entire body. I had thought I was trapped, and I had been offered a way out. When Ezra and I talked after dinner, there were no doubts — neither of us wanted more children. The next day was Saturday. I called my doctor's office and lied to the receptionist about bleeding heavily. Ezra drove me to the hospital, where we met the doctor. The two men shook hands, and the doctor told my husband, 'Not to worry — I'll take good care of her.' As I was wheeled into the operating room, the nurse walking beside the gurney squeezed my hand. 'You'll be fine,' she said. That's the last thing I remember about the procedure. When I awoke from the anesthesia, I got dressed and waited for Ezra and the children to pick me up in the hospital lobby. They arrived in the late afternoon. They'd gone to a football game, and the children were still excited about it. That evening, Ezra and I hugged and shared our thoughts about how relieved we were. He was particularly attentive and brought a stool so I could put my feet up. After he washed the dishes, he slipped out and came back with a tub of butter pecan ice cream — my favorite — our special way of marking important occasions. I didn't mention the experience to any of my friends. I had broken the law, and if word got out about my doctor's willingness to perform this procedure, his life could be ruined. The threat of legal action scared me into silence. I've maintained that silence until now. What would I have done if my doctor hadn't opened up this window of opportunity? Friends were going to Mexico for abortions, but the status of medical care in that country was a mystery to me. I could have ended up with a botched procedure, as often happened with the illegal abortions that were performed in so-called back alleys in the United States. Or what if I didn't have access to health care in the first place or the money to pay for the procedure, as many other women and families did — and do — not have. I also believed only a properly trained obstetrician could be trusted to remove the IUD nestling in my uterus beside my growing baby. Its removal was another opportunity for mistakes to be made. I am risk-averse and would have probably turned down these choices and carried the fetus to term. I would have been an angry, depleted mother to all my children. Today, at the age of 92, my reproductive years are far in the past, but old age doesn't temper the anger I feel towards the legislators who exercise their power to order a woman to carry her pregnancy to term whether she wants to or not. Women seeking abortions are often portrayed as foolish teenagers, but thousands of mature women with families are being put in this position just like I was. Our current legislators believe a few fertilized cells are more important than a woman's quality of life — a quality of life that ripples through her existing family. Right-to-lifers scream about 'partial birth abortions' while women who have suffered and wept through such rare procedures because of serious health issues are viewed as murderers. I'm telling my story now because maybe it will help wake us up to the nightmare we've created. Had I been forced to have a fourth child, the impact would have been devastating — not only for me, but for my family. We have failed the many women who find themselves in the same position I was. I was afraid to speak up back then. I am speaking up now. We are back in the days before Roe v. Wade, a time when women are being denied control of their own bodies. Doctors are understandably afraid to follow my obstetrician's example. Miscarriages are looked on with suspicion and without sympathy for a woman's grief when she experiences one. Women with dangerous pregnancy complications are told to wait for 'nature to take its course,' which puts their lives at risk. Many have died. Stories about women who spend their lives regretting their abortions and dreaming about the child-who-might-have-been spread throughout antiabortion communities. My post-abortion experience was the opposite. It enabled us to have the family we wanted. I've had no regrets. I will always be grateful to my obstetrician who was willing to risk imprisonment and the loss of his career to perform my illegal abortion. Now that we've gone back in time, women who don't want to bear a child will still find ways to abort a fetus just as they did before abortions became legal. They'll just be forced to do it in unsafe and potentially deadly ways. We are going back to the days of coat hangers and knitting needles. Cynthia Ehrenkrantz is a writer and storyteller. She was born in Britain and immigrated to the United States in 1957. Her memoir, 'Seeking Shelter: Memoir of a Jewish Girlhood in Wartime Britain,' is available wherever books are sold. She lives in Westchester County, New York.