Category: Gin

Two more gins take us to the verge of closing out Advent Gin, which has been an rewarding exercise in tasting and comparing (albeit at some remove in time; I haven’t done any side-by-sides since that one night in Glasgow).

Twenty-two down, three to go. Today’s Advent Gin is Mayfield Sussex Hop Gin, featuring a local variety of hops among the eight botanicals. First sip signals a straight gin, astringent but not harsh. Next sips open up to citrus (not bitter), and some subtle floral notes. I must be missing the hops; either that, or they blend with the citrus or the floral subtext. I don’t detect the pine that descriptions suggested. Rather, this appeals to me as a strong G&T gin, with citrus balancing the herbal notes, and a very delicate floral background. I think I’m picking up the hops, now, very lightlyat the finish. Nice.
I take Mayfield Sussex Hop to do a gin’s job well. Distillers sometimes seem to invent so many prizes that *everybody* gets one or more; Mayfield claims no gold, silver, or bronze, but the gin stands up for itself, a sturdy juniper with citrus backing and floral notes, and hops.

Next to last day of Advent Gin opens a wee bottle of Nikka Coffey Gin, another gin from Japan. Coffey begins with a lime-forward taste, overshadowing the juniper by a long measure. (I say ‘lime’, but there are other Japanese citruses in the botanicals, so I may be neglecting fruits I never tasted.) The citrus carries through to a distinctly bitter, almost mineral finish. The combination intrigues me; the opening invites me to linger over the taste, but longer I let it develop on my palate, the more dissonant the chord of constituent notes.
On the whole, I’d wish a clearer juniper base, and a gentler release from the sip. The citrus doesn’t fit squarely (to my tongue) with either the juniper it dominates or the astringent botanicals from which it retreats. My sense is that a sturdier juniper spine could support the transition from the prominent fruit opening to the botanical finish.

As ‘Advent’ draws to a close, I sample Hernö Old Tom gin. so I’m expecting a slightly sweeter drink.
It leads with a strong piney, juniper surge. After the first sip, I recognise a definite note of honey. Botanicals are in there, but as I sip on, my strong impression remains a steady pine & juniper core with honey & floral notes spiralling around the trunk. It makes for a pleasant G&T, though — without disrespect — I think I wouldn’t normally select it among other options.
But I’d be happy to drink if it’s served to me.

Advent Gin, on day 21: Hapusa Himalayan Dry Gin, which sounds like a gimmick. We will see; Hapusa follows a series of gins with strong regional identities (Kenya, Japan, Italy), some of which worked out better than others.
First sip: juniper, but it’s overshadowed by a piney flavour that I can’t attribute to any of the declared ingredients. (I guess that it may come from the Himalayan juniper?) Ongoing sips: there’s a definite different character to the central flavour, around which flit interesting citrus notes, earthy notes, and a low-profile lingering spicy herbal coriander finish.
Hapusa Himalayan certainly brings more to the glass than just an exotic gimmick. It’s growing on me as I nurse the glass; I can easily see it as a reserved-for-special-guests-or-occasions, back-of-the-shelf bottle.
I’ve been pleased and impressed by more of the Advent Gins than I expected. Well done, distillers! I’d relish the chance to revisit many of these with a view to refining my assessment of them (but that’s not in the cards). I can conclude, though, that the proliferation of craft gin distillers over the past fifteen or so years reflects real variety and quality in the market. I won’t say ‘You can’t go wrong’ — but the Advent calendar suggests that there are a great many very good and interesting options abroad, which should be a wonderful bounty for gin drinkers.

After major feasts that involve evening services, a certain set of Anglican clergy observe #ClergyMaltClub with photos and descriptions of their chosen whisky (teetotal colleagues, lay colleagues, really pretty much anyone welcome, though the organising principle reflects the satisfying relaxation of a dram of spirits that follows an exhausting run-up to demanding, often intricate, liturgical exercises). This year, my Clergy Malt Club entry modulated to Clergy Juniper Club for day 17 of Advent Gin: Procera Blue Dot Gin from Kenya, with all African-sourced botanicals. This is a severe gin, with a different tenor granted its geographically distinctive provenance.
The first sip leads firmly with juniper; really, every other contribution waits to reveal itself after the big train of the African juniper abates. And there are some pleasant follow-on notes: the pepper (I think), perhaps the cardamom, and after a while the orange peel emerges and makes itself felt. I’d recommend this gin to somebody who knows their British gins well enough, who likes gin for its own qualities (rather than flavoured-up) but who may appreciate the unfamiliar African botanicals that characterise Procera Blue Dot. It would make a fascinating entry in a blind tasting!

Then last night, Advent Gin (time is an illusion; gin time, doubly so) day 18 opened a dram of Gabriell Boudier Saffron Gin. By now, you know I’ll be suspicious of a gin that tries to attract attention by means of being something other than ‘gin’; but I promise to keep an open mind. The first sip returns a firm impression of gin, & as it lingers it opens a distinct sweetness, almost a faint hint of ginger. Second sip (with tonic) confirms: this is definitely, gently, like ‘ginger gin’, albeit with a gentle near-sweetness. Subsequent drinking adds a light spritz of floral notes. Now, I’m not a frequent consumer of saffron, so maybe I’m just supplying ‘ginger ale’ where a true connoisseur would recognise saffron flavour; but that’s what I observe, so it’s what I write.
Gabriel Boudier offers what I’d call a leftfield gin: not heavily flavoured, but not austere either. If I kept multiple gins on hand all the time, I’d put it on the shelf with the others, but most of the time I’d offer it to guests while I leaned back toward a proper gin. And other times, I’d join in for the novelty of the thing, a clever trick pulled off without fanfare.

I’m not sure I’m ready for Advent Gin day 16, the St. George Botanivore Gin. It boasts 19 botanicals. I remember a few days ago when XII was proud of twelve.
All the nonsense aside, I wonder whether they’ll be able to keep so many variables in hand while producing a top-shelf gin.
First sips:a very full, thick taste — not astringent at all, but with a satisfying dense impact. I’m trying to tease out the notes, but the blending has successfully woven them together into a harmonious, earthy combination. The St George people compare it to a meadow in bloom, but it’s not floral. Neither is it woody; the juniper and, perhaps, anise (or coriander?) lead a low to medium pitch harmony. I think I’m detecting subtle orange peel and orange notes as it grows on my palate. Again, no angular astringency. I have earlier talked about flavoured or ‘soft’ gins as gin for people who don’t like gin; this, I’d say, is a well-grounded, full-bodied gin for people who think they have to opt for fancified or muted gins. Herbal but on the woody side, botanical without astringency, St George Botanivore is turning a grouchy old sceptic into an impressed admirer.

On Advent Gin day fourteen, the lot falls on the Kyoto Distillery’s Ki No Bi Sei dry gin. This gin comes with several botanicals about which I know nothing more than I learn from Wikipedia, so I’ll plunge headlong into tasting.
This is a strong *gin* gin, the most astringent I’ve tasted this month. The first sip gives your tongue a slap—Ki No Bi Sei has no patience for leisurely introductions. Once you’ve caught your breath, though, it reveals more nuances, led by (to my taste) floral notes on a steady juniper platform. As I continue sipping, the citrus notes unfold pleasantly. The end runs to the verge of metallic, but stops short and fades to the juniper. I don’t detect anything that shouts out its Japanese origin, but then I’m honestly not equipped so to do.
Ki No Bi Sei provides an interesting twist on the classic gin. It’s a little thin at the start, but blossoms very favourably if you’re patient. PSA: It’s Navy Strength, 54.4% ABV, so if you’re having more than 1, you might get vividly curtained* faster than you expected to (planning ahead, as of course every civilised person doth).
Good straight-up gin, esp. if you like Japan, I guess.

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* Cf. Madeline Odent, ‘any noun in the entire English language can be a British euphemism for getting drunk, you just add an adverb before and “ed” on the end’.

Not wanting to fall further behind, Advent Gin day thirteen began on schedule with a wee bottle of XII Gin, a bottle that answers the challenge of naming their gin by using the Roman numerals for the *twelve* plants and spices they use in distilling. It is a *gin* gin, for which I am pleased.
It hails from Haute-Provence, and the herbs and spices (1 more than KFC!) do give a distinctive taste. The overall flavour has a fuller base than some gins; this may be what they mean by its ‘rich and authentic taste’ (I disapprove of uneigentlich gins). The herbal and floral notes are reticent, though, so that it tastes as if its pulling its punches. Come on, XII, dial it up a little!
I’ve referred to one or two of the previous offerings as ‘gin for people who don’t like gin’; XII is a good dry gin that’s not likely to give offence, unless from gin lovers who want a bit more punch. I like it well enough, but in a few minutes I won’t be able to form a strong recollection of just how it tasted — while I’m still thinking about that Isle of Harris from a week ago, even the Hoxton Tropical. I don’t think it probable that I’ll reach out to pick a bottle of XII Dry Gin off the shelf.

As the sun sets on the 12th day of Advent Gin, we open our wee dram of Blackeye London Dry Gin. I approach the glass with trepidation—not because I fear the violence associate with the name (or its rugby-playing producers), but cos several aspects of its promotion state clearly and firmly: gimmick. Rugby stars, citrus-forward, donations to a good cause, all sound like excuses to sell a gin whose primary virtues are Sport Stars, Flavour, and Charity rather than, you know, quality gin.
I was wrong to doubt. The leading fruit is not bold but gentle, leading to a proper gin middle with sturdy juniper and supporting herbal notes. The ending tends a little more harsh pepper than I’d like, but I can well imagine others appreciating it. On the whole, it steers an entirely satisfactory between being flavour-led and being strictly botanical. I was going to say ‘… still not quite my thing’, but after allowing the gin time to settle on my tongue, I admire it more than I thought I would (even after overcoming my initial scepticism). Not at all a novelty act, this is an accomplished top tier player. I prefer a greater commitment to juniper and botanicals, but Blackeye would be a welcome addition to my liquor cabinet for visitors who like their gin a little easier to drink, and bless ’em, they should have their tipple too.
My Advent League Table still has Still Pool and Isle of Harris neck and neck, but Blackeye joins the challengers close behind.

Day ten of Advent Gin features Hepple Gin, a welcome gin without adornments. Hepple explains that their process involves vacuum distillation and CO? extraction; their botanicals include juniper (Italian, local, and Macedonian), lemon, and lovage. I found a slightly woody aroma at the start, but the juniper took over when I tasted; the lovage prevails over lemon, though the lemon lingers and provides a firm background for the herbal notes.
I appreciated the unusual blend of junipers, and the lovage mediating to the lemon. It went down well with Fever Tree tonic. One of my favourites so far.

I don’t think the sun ever gets over the yardarm in midwinter in England, but it’s close enough o’clock for me to taste today’s Advent Gin (#9): Bathtub Gin Persian Lime & Orange Blossom. The claim identifies floral notes along with the named flavours; Margaret and I spotted the floral start right away, and I perceive the lime, and, *very* lightly, the orange. The lime and floral definitely linger; I fear the juniper is overshadowed, though not overwhelmed. On continued sipping, though, the juniper substrate stands up. The overall effect reminds me of the Cotswold Hedgerow: sturdy but gentle flavoured drink, well tuned to the gin underlying the additional flavouring but complementing, not treading over the juniper and herbs.
Well suited to a more-than-just-gin G&T (or neat), but I’d be cautious mixing. On the other hand, I’m frugal about mixers anyway. Very fine job…

The sixth day of Advent Gin is Gin Mare, a name I recognised and had been looking out for a chance to try. The distillers emphasise its production with arbequina olives, rosemary, thyme, and basil (among other botanicals). I can’t claim that I could isolate one or another of these, but that’s as much as saying that it’s artfully blended, without allowing any single ingredient to dominate the others. (That’s not strictly true, since I infer that the single prominent flavour that I couldn’t place must be the olives — an agreeable complement to the rest of the gin.)
I like it. You’d want to be careful about what you mix it with, but in a G&T or in a carefully chosen cocktail, this could bring an unusual, subtle note that enhances drinks that lean less toward the sweet and more toward the astringent.

The fifth day of Advent Gin is from Edinburgh, Lind & Lime. The Leith-based distillers recall the anti-scurvy properties of citrus with a lime-forward gin, cut with pink peppercorn and cardamom among other botanicals. The lime is unmistakeable; the peppercorn, perhaps, a strong second; the juniper stands in the background. I miss the juniper, as in several other of the Advent Gins, but if one is going to overdo an added note, lime seems a sensible flavour, as if someone splashed a generous dose of lime juice onto a G&T.
Margaret detected the cardamom, though I couldn’t place it.
I thought I noticed a very slightly sweet note to the body, almost as if it were a cucumber slice (which I do occasionally enjoy with a G&T), but I couldn’t place the source of it.
Still Pool remains #1, and this joins Tobermory and the Kew Gin as next favourites.