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The Queen Mother drank gin. Sums it up really – this is a conservative spirit, one likely to find comfort in the Long Room at Lords or the pink of Royal Navy wardrooms. But these are changing times and even gin is offering more than a heap of botanicals and a splash of tonic to charm its way into a place only vodka has, until now, had access to.
Luckily, gin is reaching for the top by putting effort into its distilling craft and turning out some genuinely superb spirits that deserve to be taken as seriously as the finest single malts. This is counter-intuitive in a world where vodka has set the standards for so long – not standards of quality, but of spin. Vodka – devoid as it is of the character that makes fanatics of whisky and rum drinkers, or the finesse that turns brandy drinker into Cognac princes – has long been the haven of spiritual hyperbole. This repertoire of specious proclamations asserting grain-sourced authenticity and mythic water quality has defined vodka as the darling of advertising executives since they struck on the idea of “filtered through a mountain of charcoal” back in the day when the mystery of Imperial Russia had been lost in a Soviet mire. So where there was standard vodka, premium vodka, super premium vodka, authentic vodka and legendary vodka, all hoping for a dash of cranberry or scotch bonnet chilli to hide its emaciated body, now there is also a new, sophisticated gin slinking into view. Not that gin has any need to disguise its wonderful body. Scantily clad gin, with just a twist or an olive and a French shadow to add mystery to its svelte shape in the form of a dry martini, is the ultimate nude for serious imbibers, so there is no need for a cacophony of lies to accompany this new phenomenon – the finely crafted gin. I sniffed around a few bars’ cocktail aficionados in search of the gins that really show pride in the distiller’s craft, and came up with five that had universal approval from those who knew of them. Not that this is many people at all, as most drinkers still seem of the opinion that a gin is a gin is a gin with tonic. And too many mixologists are obsessed with recipes to take the basics seriously enough to know the difference between oris root and kumquats. But what a five I found. All of them gins with character, quality, and that wonderful individuality that is the feature of the best spirits from anywhere – except vodka, of course. So here we go, five tasting notes lubricated with a little poetic licence as I got into the spirit of a drink that was once as despised by the status quo as crack cocaine, and yet became the spirit of the Empire that ruled the world when England was Top Nation. First off there were two that had the universal endorsement of almost every reputable bar master I spoke to: Tanqueray 10 and Beefeater 24. Big names both, embellished with numbers that indicate they are the top versions of two gins that have long enjoyed reputation of quality and character. Both are termed London Dry Gin, which is a style that balances an austere palate with a hint of Hollands Gin’s oily pungency and is less overtly botanical than Plymouth Gin. I tasted these to see what the acceptable standard might be for ‘super-premium’ gin, against which I could measure the performance of the other three, two from New Zealand and one from Scotland, all decidedly boutique in their manner.
THE TASTING 9 BEEFEATER 24 A big, aromatic gin with a notable citrus riff and strong theme of juniper that gives it great length and persistence. Fine quality spirit allows it to carry off its high alcohol content (45%) with elegance. Intense and generous without diminishing any of the subtlety delivered by its complex botanicals. All class from beginning to end.
9 TANQUERAY No.10 Wonderfully suave from the first nose full – quite the lounge lizard with velvet trim and a hint of exotic fragrance. This is the highest alcohol content of all five (47.5%), but is so refined there is no hint of rasp or even undue heat at the finish. Citrus notes well up through the botanical herb and spice body that sustains its heart, with an intensity that delivers long, slightly oily, lingering lemon shadows that trail away like a gin-soaked sunset. Magnificent, it would make the perfect dry martini without any need for French vermouth or other such frivolities. You could even leave out the olive!
9 BLENHEIM BAY PREMIUM GIN Made by Prenzel in Marlborough, an outfit that has proved its quality credentials over the years for those with the nous to recognise them. This is a very clean, pure gin, a mountain spirit rather than a lowland one, with less botanical richness and a distinct citrus high note. Excellent spirit enhances the pure quality, along with a dash of rose petal character that gives it a certain pretty quality. A crisply fascinating gin that would deliver a racy martini.
9 LIGHTHOUSE A batch-distilled gin crafted in Wairarapa in copper pot stills. It is easy to see why it has already attracted attention from discerning gin connoisseurs, for it is very fine, with a soft tone and an unusual botanical profile that is charming without lacking in energy. Neither juniper nor citrus assert themselves, giving it a strong sense of individuality that is gin-like but different. Soft characters that hint at vanilla linger at the finish, along with a strong botanical verve. Pure and complex, this is a real contender for the top gin on any bar with a reputation for classy drinks.
9 HENDRICK’S GIN Made in scotch country, this rather delicate gin has a floral perfume to it that is quite distinctive. Coriander seems to be the strongest botanical note, with a brisk juniper note giving it a bit of dash. Again the spirit is very fine and the elegant finish delivers a dry, aromatic aftertaste that should appeal to the fussiest of gin drinkers. Not a classic martini base, but a unique one, that would be very easy to learn to love, and for which there would be no alternative.
SOURCE BITE • Gin was created in Holland in about 1650 to treat stomach complaints. • The name gin comes from the word for juniper (genievre). • Some claim England’s love affair with gin began when British soldiers brought back the “Dutch courage” from Holland.
Why don’t you slip out of those wet clothes and into a dry martini? - Robert Benchley |