While offering pleasant sojourning, the Guatemalan rum landscape does not exactly excite with its variety. Everything comes from a single company, Industrias Licoreras de Guatemala, though that company produces at least two labels – Zacapa and Botran.

Zacapa represents the glamorous international face of Guatemalan rum: attractive, commercialized, definitely expensive, and while it makes for exceedingly pleasant company, you can’t help suppressing the occasional yawn and wondering how thick that make up is. Botran in contrast is the slightly homely stay-at-home sister, working a nine-to-five job and hurrying home to cook instead of mixing with high society, and generally getting taken for granted by all and sundry. Zacapa smugly preens itself from little clusters of high priced bottles in duty free stores and on the top shelves of smarter bars, while Botran runs itself ragged covering the shelves of local supermarkets and bars, where it jostles for attention with the anise liqueur that is ubiquitous in Latin America.The question then is this: does Zacapa deserve to be Guatemala’s Ambassador of Rum?

Being a rebel, and a fan of rum with a glow to it, I’m going to support the underdog and say I rather like Botran.

Exhibits A through E follow.

Botran X/L

A clear rum with a smooth sweet taste, and a staple in Guatemalan bars for mixing rum cocktails. The smooth sweetness is typical of Central American rums. An obvious comparison rum would be Flor de Caña, but Botran X/L is rougher, with a slight spiciness, and an almost chewy graininess. Not especially exciting but does the job.

Botran Anejo 12 Años

This aged rum near the top end of the Botran line is inexpensive and was my regular rum in Guatemala. It is fairly ubiquitous, though Botran also produce a cheaper Anejo 8 Años and Añejo Oro. Unfortunately I enjoyed the Añejo 12 Años so much that I never got around to writing notes on the two younger rums. Anyway, the Añejo 12 Años is a dark honey colored rum with a syrupy body, gentle alcoholic glow, pleasant dry spice notes and a hint of woody bitterness. I found it a rewarding but undemanding sipper, as well as a base for an exceptionally smooth and rich rum and coke – best with a touch of lime to temper all the sweetness.

Botran Solera 1893 Añejo

This tasty rum pours with a light copper-color and a viscous consistency, forming thick legs that slide slowly down the glass. The nose is sweet and rich, and carries a clear woody note reminiscent of incense – sandalwood maybe? A dash of cinnamon or canella also lurks in there. Tasting reveals sweetness with a soft glow (hotter than Zacapa), building into a mouthful of light woody spice. Though the body is sweet, the flavors are dry and austere, without the fruitiness of Zacapa. The taste does not evolve much, though an initial trace of wild honey slowly builds into something substantial. The aftertaste lingers long and pleasantly – the sign of a good rum.

I like this rum. It has a unique flavor, with all that spicy wood reminding me of a Catholic Church. That said, it is rather sweet, and while the flavors are interesting they are not especially deeply layered. I get the impression of sipping an intricately spiced cake syrup with an dry perfumed edge rather than a complex spirit.

My conclusion? This is a simple but interesting rum with unusual flavors I happen to like.

Ron Zacapa 15

I was keen to try this one. My first taste of Zacapa 23 impressed me, but it seemed that the more I tasted it the more I was left wanting something a little sharper. Perhaps Zacapa 15 was the answer? You don’t see the Zacapa 15 around very much, but I finally got my opportunity to try it in Flores airport, where the café was selling miniatures.

The Zacapa 15 pours a light gold rather than the very deep copper of the Zacapa 23, but has a similar viscous consistency. The nose initially reminded me of Botran, being light and spicy, but the fruitiness of Zacapa 23 was also there in a reduced dose. The taste was far more fiery and assertive than Zacapa 23, with a strong tingling bite on the front of the tongue, a peppery mouth feel, plus a lingering bitterness I didn’t recall from Zacapa 23. For a sweet and syrupy rum it came across as surprisingly sharp, though it didn’t have the dry edge of Botran. The flavors are intense but not particularly well integrated. There are strong fruity notes, but an odd underlying acidity makes it hard to place the fruit. Things improve as you get into it though, with pleasant vanilla emerging to smooth the rough edges. I end up thinking of vanilla ice-cream and stewed fruit – served in a bowl that accidentally got a drop or two of gasoline in it.

If the above sounds unfair, I should stress that a single taste of this rum was not enough. I would have to try it again sometime to give it a fair go. Still, if you are looking for Zacapa with a little more ‘edge’ the Zacapa 15 may not work, since it comes across as rather different to its older relative. Overall I was disappointed, and left thinking Zacapa 23 is still the better of the two.

Ron Zacapa 23

I already reviewed this rum here, so I’ll basically leave it at that. Nice but overrated. Though having said that, if you have never tried this rum it makes an interesting eye opener.

Zacapa and coke was a popular request among Americans staying in Antigua. Although I never partook I’m not sure I like the sound of it. Zacapa is already so smooth and sweet it hardly needs further sweetening and dilution.

There is some controversy about whether Zacapa have modified their formula over the years. Many say the old fully palm-wrapped bottles tasted better. A little palm-wrapped miniature Zacapa 23 stuffed in a display case behind the bar in my hotel in Guatemala City seemed to give me a chance to do a compare and contrast.

Tasting the dusty palm-wrapped miniature against a glass from a new bottle did reveal some differences. The older Zacapa had less fruitiness and acidity, more dark cane flavors, a warmer ‘rumminess’, and perhaps a little dash of the funkiness from Appleton Estate. Of course some of the differences in taste I noticed could have come from the length of time the miniature had been lying around, probably exposed to warm bar lights etc. There was something a vaguely ‘cooked’ about its flavor.

Conclusion

Zacapa gets all the attention but Botran is worth a closer look. Both are sweet rums, but Botran offers a drier style at a more attractive price. By giving Botran a go, Zacapa fans can broaden their horizons with an alternative Guatemalan rum, while Zacapa haters may finally find a Guatemalan rum they enjoy.

The weather settled a little in the afternoon, and I took advantage of the break in the rain to hop in a shared taxi to Caberete, a smaller settlement several kilometers down the road.  I had heard a rumor that beside the Caberete petrol station was a shop stocking Siglo de Oro and selling it at non-extortionate prices.

Incidentally countryside taxis here are a little like Cambodia.  You get the option of traveling very cheaply by paying for a single seat in a cab traveling in your direction.  The seat besides the driver is calculated as two seats though, so you pay double to sit there if you do not want somebody else sitting practically in your lap.  In fact, in the Dominican Republic there are even taxis working city streets that operate on this system.  It’s not such a bad idea really, though in urban areas I guess it works best where the city has a grid-like layout.

Siglo de Oro is the top product from Brugal, and something of a cult rum.  Only two thousand 30 thousand bottles are produced each year.  The rum is released around December, and by the time August arrives it has long ago become difficult to find.  I had seen it in a few of the tourist shops in Santo Domingo, but they were selling it at prices that began at around twice the usual retail price and increased from there depending on the whim of the shopkeeper.  Would I manage to pick a bottle up for a more reasonable sum?

Given my bad Spanish I was not sure if the taxi driver would drop me off at the right spot.  Everything went smoothly though.  He pulled up outside a petrol station.  Reassuringly the station had a mini-market as promised.  Even the name of the mini-market was right – Mercado la Rosa or something.  I went in, and sure enough there were two bottles of Siglo de Oro stashed on the top shelf.  Better still, they were priced at only 1,430 pesos.  I bought a bottle and headed back thorough the deteriorating weather to Sosua.

Back in my room I opened up the box the rum came in, flicking on the television as I did so, only to find scenes of the most incredible carnage.  The Dominican Republic had just had the worst traffic accident in its history.  Somewhere else on the island two buses had collided head on, leaving over twenty people dead.  To call the TV footage graphic would be an understatement.  Lingering closeups of severed heads were the order of the day.

I was no longer in the mood for trying a new rum, so I set the rum aside and went out for some dinner.  I dropped by a little hole in the wall place run by a  German guy that served impressive sausages, schnitzels and so on.  Unfortunately nobody here seems to be able to do chips well.  They are oily everywhere you go.

Not until today did I finally open the rum.  I guess that makes my bottle of Siglo de Oro a birthday present to myself.  Nice!  Now if only I could persuade other people to treat me this well.

Siglo de Oro is impressively packaged in a blue box.  The rum itself is contained in an attractive blue pottery bottle with a cork stopper.  Some of the purchase price for this rum clearly goes on the flash packaging.  Would the rum itself live up to the hype?

I removed the stopper and poured a little into a glass.  It poured with a deep gold color and a rich, almost syrupy, consistency.

On sniffing my first impression was that it was awfully like the Brugal Extra Viejo.  I even wondered for a moment if I had not been sold some kind of fake.  I am finding this is the case with rums though.  The differences between different products from the same company can be fairly subtle – to me anyway.

Without analyzing the nose much beyond thinking “smells like Brugal”, I dove in for a taste.  Differences between the Siglo de Oro and the Extra Viejo immediately became apparent. Incidentally, a little later I put the two rums side by side and their differences became even clearer.  The Siglo de Oro is just far smoother than the Extra Viejo, and has less alcohol burn and tannin bitterness.  The Extra Viejo, a very smooth rum, tates rough in comparison.  Still, while the palates lean in different directions (as described below), the overall character of both products is similar.  I would characterize Siglo de Oro as a refined version of the Extra Viejo rather than a totally different rum.

The Siglo de Oro leans towards a gentle honeyed character, versus more of a caramel profile in the Extra Viejo.   While sweet, the palette is complex.  The honey evolves into a hint of waxy honeycomb on the tongue, and there is a little bitterness in the finish. The wood and tanin tastes you would expect in a fine old rum are present, but lingering behind a wall of sweet and pleasant flavors.  Sipping on this rum you enjoy a complex medley of dried fruit like figs, bananas and apricots. The spicy notes in the Extra Viejo are moderated to mere subtle hints in the Siglo de Oro.  While the flavors in this rum tend towards the sweet of the spectrum, their highly concentrated form and the exceptional balance prevent the impression of sweetness.  The finish is dry enough to prepare you for another sip.  At the same time though, the taste lingers in your mouth and you feel you can afford to wait before actually taking that next sip.

Siglo de Oro is a subtle rum, perhaps a bit too subtle for me, but still dangerously good stuff.  Given that they export a little, it is worth keeping an eye out for.

Incidentally, and perhaps this sounds wrong, it tastes very good with just a little coconut water.  Same for the Extra Viejo.

That first bottle left an impression, but I never got to try Brugal again until I arrived in the Dominican Republic. Here I have been confronted by walls of Brugal rum virtually everywhere I go. Every little shop carries it. The stuff is so ubiquitous that supermarkets often give it virtually its own section, separate from the rest of the booze. Typically supermarkets have a booze section, containing wines, whiskeys, liqueurs and so forth. Then, sometimes in a completely different part of the store, they have a rum section. Brugal invariably dominates the rum section.

Clearly it is time for a Brugal rum tasting. The fact that rum here is sold in handy little half bottles makes a tasting easy to organize. I am going to taste six of the basic Brugal products. Their flavored rums* are not reviewed here (I noticed a limon and they may do others), and nor is Siglo de Oro, their top of the line product.  Siglo de Oro has proved hard to track down for a non-extortionate price so I guess I will review it later. One final exclusion is Brugal Unico, a liqueur based on fine aged rums and other flavorings. Tasting notes below:

Overproof (151):  A fierce alcoholic nose – surprise, surprise.  It goes down with a fair burn, but the burn gets offset somewhat by sweetness and whiffs of soft chocolate.  Fairly smooth for an unaged overproof rum.  This is allegedly the only unaged rum in the Brugal range.  I can’t drink this straight but as I type it does not seem bad for a supercharged rum and coke.  Will I regret it?

Blanco: Smooth and fragrant white rum (supposedly aged for two years?). A mellow profile with strong cocoa butter and light coffee notes. The chocolate notes are fairly pronounced and come through even when mixed with coke and lime in a Cuba Libre. A quality white rum.

Carta Blanca: A light straw color from slight aging. Sharper than Brugal’s longer aged offerings, yet with little of the soft cocoa notes that distinguish the blanco. I am not sure this rum makes for a good compromise between the Blanco and the Carta Dorada. It has an interesting nuttiness though. It seems like they recycle bottles here and the top of my bottle has a worn chip on it. Maybe a poor seal meant this bottle got oxidized?  [NOTE: After visiting the Brugal distillery in Puerto Plata I was told that this product has been discontinued.]

Carta Dorada: Sweetish gold rum. Initially grassy and gently herbal, evolving into light honey and fruit flavors. Doesn’t finish as smoothly as the Anejo, and lacks the same balance and depth of flavor. Seems like it would make a nice mixer with juices.

Anejo: Smooth and full bodied. Caramelized bananas, a hint of apricots, woody notes, and a little spice. Subtle and restrained, finishing with a lingering fruity aftertaste. This rum has the makings of a decent sipper.  However, if you have access to the Extra Viejo it makes more sense to sip that since the price differential is minimal.  Probably best used as a mixer in cocktails that accent the rum. Once again the fruity notes could make it a good mixer with juices.

Extra Viejo: Extremely rich and smooth. Caramel, wood, spices, and suggestions of dried or fermented fruit (maybe prunes) all share the stage. Reminds me of a cognac, being subtle with quite a bit going on.  A lingering aftertaste with very gentle bitterness. Full flavored and nicely balanced. A very approachable rum. Given its smoothness I think I prefer it without ice.

* While a few bottles are still in circulation, Brugal has discontinued its two flavored rums – limon and passion fruit.

I dropped by Sofitel in Santo Domingo a few days ago trying to track down Brugal Siglo de Oro.  I did not find the Siglo de Oro, but I did see they were offering interesting rum flights.  I went back last night for their ‘Rums of the Caribbean’ flight, comprising Zacapa 23 Anos, Karukera 1995, and J.M. Martin.  I have no idea why Ron Zacapa, a Guatemalan rum produced near the Pacific, is included in a Caribbean rum flight.  Maybe someone in the Caribbean is feeling jealous?

I was especially interested in trying the Zacapa. I have heard so much about this rum, and of course recently there have recently been controversies about availability – at least in the U.S. I had been tempted to buy a bottle after spotting it in the supermarket here, though at over 3000 pesos I didn’t pick it up. Now I’m wondering if the bottle I saw was not the XO.Anyhow, in recognition of all the hype and excitement surrounding it, I began with the Ron Zacapa Centenario 23 Anos. Incidentally, the rum flight came with a plate of sliced sugar cane and a molasses dipping bowl. This was a nice touch, working as a palate cleanser, and also helping identify the sugar flavors in the rums. Unless you live in a tropical country you probably don’t often get to sample sugar cane. But on to the rum. . .

Ron Zacapa Centenario 23 Anos

My first impression of the Zacapa was something like “Bloody Hell that’s nice!”, and of course I took a sip before really nosing it. This rum has a deep copper color and a viscous consistency, verging on liqueur-like. The nose, what I got of it before tasting, was a gentle and exceedingly inviting mix of stewed and caramelized fruit, caramelized cane sugar, light molasses, and a little orange. The taste was essentially more of the same, and yet I found myself pleasantly surprised rather than disappointed. It was exceedingly smooth, and the layers of smooth sugar cane masking the alcohol made for a very ‘unrumlike’ impression. I felt I was drinking the Pedro Ximenez of rums. All rums contain a hint of these sweet and inviting flavors, but this was the first time I had found them in such a concentrated form. The gentle flavors and lack of alcoholic bite made me expect a short finish, but somehow the taste lingered pleasantly on.

I decided to save the rest of the glass till the end of my tasting. This turned out to be a big mistake. The subtle flavors of the Zacapa became impossible to pick out after sampling two more full-flavored rums. Needless to say this was very disappointing.

My verdict? This is a gentle, approachable and intuitive rum that is impossible to dislike. It is an odd mixture of simple and complex. It tastes more-or-less as it smells, and the flavor is fairly uniform from start to finish, being subtle and fruity variations on caramelized sugar and molasses. Though uniform, the flavors keep shifting if you pay attention, and there is quite a bit going on. I found it disappointingly unrumlike though. This became very obvious when I returned to it after sampling the others. I would categorize Zacapa 23 Anos as a very interesting rum, and a good window on some of the tastes to be found in rum. However, beyond the beguiling syrupiness you really have to strain to pick out the flavors. Ultimately, it is just too mild to be a favorite with me. While difficult to prove in this day and age, I am firmly convinced that no pirate captain could drink this stuff without his crew mutinying.

Karukera 1995

This rum from Guadalupe had a light gold color, and an intense aroma of apples and cut grass. The taste was dry and refined, and my first impression was oddly reminiscent of calvados. I could easily have identified this as calvados rather than rum. The calvados note shrank over time though, with grassy caramel slowly emerging. The finish was dry.

I later searched online for information on this rum, and found that it seems to be a newish private label, established by Guillaume Drouin, son of the calvados producer Christian Drouin. Guillaume allegedly discovered rum could be as sophisticated as calvados while visiting Haiti (he must have enjoyed Barbancourt), and then established his own private label. Presumably the calvados quality I picked up was no coincidence.

This was my first experience of a rum from Guadalupe. Obviously this was in the same style as an aged rum agricole, though the apple notes made it different from any agricole I had previously drunk. Overall an enjoyable rum.

J.M. Martin

This aged Martinique rum poured with a light gold color. The nose was unusual and unlike any other agricole I have tried. There was the usual agricole grassiness, tempered by wood and vanilla. However, there were also a host of herbal smells, with a subtle hint of menthol, and perhaps a little apple. I was reminded of an Italian amaro. The taste was dry, grassy, herbal, complex, and hard to pin down. Maybe I should have added a few drops of water to smooth things out. I kept getting amaro-like tastes, but couldn’t really nail exactly what any of them were. The sugar cane sweetness was minimal, and this seemed to be the driest of the three rums. At time I was reminded of a light single-barrel whiskey. There was a dry lingering aftertaste, with a little woodiness.

Overall I found it hard to know what to make of this rum. Placing it in the context of other rums seems hard due to its eccentric character. I would like to try it again sometime.

I am sitting in a hotel room in the Caribbean with nothing besides the rest of my Tales of the Cocktail swag bag mini-bar, a maxi-bottle of Beefeater that came with the Tales of the Cocktail goodies, and some little bottles of Dominican Republic rum.  OK, and I also have my computer, clothes, toothbrush, etc.  What I was really getting at, in my typically convoluted manner, is that this post is not going to contain the words “double strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish with three drops of orange bitters and a lemon twist”.  I don’t even have ice handy.  I’ll drink the gin straight, then with tonic water.  No lemons or limes will be hurt in this tasting.

I started by admiring the bottle’s clean Gailic mini-lines.  Ces’t Manifique!

Next I opened it and poured a little (half a bottle to be precise) into a glass.  I somehow skipped the nosing step.  I guess the bouquet was so tempting I had to plunge straight in.  Hmm. . . this stuff is peculiar.  There is a definite grapeiness going on.  It reminded me of grappa and I figured it must be based on grape alcohol.  A little online research confirmed that to be the case, but also revealed that grape vine flowers are included in the botanicals.  Besides this grapeiness there is heavy citrus.  Juniper is there but not in a big way.  This gin is sweet and fruity rather than dry and spicy.

Next I tried putting some tonic water in it.  Unfortunately Canada Dry was all I could find.  Hmm. . . now it tastes like gin with nasty tonic water.  Either this gin is too light to stand up to tonic or Canada Dry is truly awful.  I think it is a bit of both.  Thank goodness I only ruined half the bottle.

I’d have to try this gin in a few more drinks to get a fuller impression.  It seems designed to appeal to non gin drinkers. Despite its grapieness I doubt it would stand up to vermouth in a traditional Martini.  However, it might be nice with lighter aromatized wines like Lillet.  The grapey character would probably come through in a Tom Collins, but seems a subtlety likely to get lost in a Gin and Tonic.  It does not seem ginny enough for typical gin applications, meaning its use needs a little thought.

I’m not left with an overwhelming desire to own a bottle of this stuff, though just maybe that grapey quality could make for interesting drinks.  Though this gin is unlikely to become a favorite of mine it could be right for vodka drinkers seeking an approachable gin, and for mixologists looking for something subtly ginny to work with.

I am now in the Dominican Republic, Santo Domingo to be precise.  Santo Domingo is a rough-around-the-edges sort of a place.  The initial impression was lousy.  Who appreciates arriving near midnight after delayed flights with no hotel booked, getting dumped by a taxi driver in a run-down area of town with no street lighting, discovering nobody speaks English and your Spanish teachers were a pack of lousy scam artists, and finally ending up in a roach-infested doss house called ‘El Refugio de Pirata’?  No, really.  That’s what it was called.  I couldn’t make this stuff up.

 

 

A change of hotels and a couple of days time has seen the place grow on me a little.  What’s not to like about a city where rum is thoughtfully sold in bottles ranging from dainty (in rum terms) 350ml affairs up to 1.5 liter monsters fit for a pirate king?  Comparatively speaking rum is also rather cheap.  In the supermarket 200 pesos (about US$6) gets you either a six pack of average beer or a 750ml bottle of quality rum.  The little rum bottles mean you can cheaply sample a wide range of rums.  I went and bought all four of the regular Brugal rums: the Blanco, Canta Dorada, Anejo, and Extra Viejo.  I will post a tasting soon.  Most locals seem to drink beer though.  Go figure.

 

My first true Caribbean rum experience was enjoyed with lunch (a Cuban sandwich – a ‘Cuban’ seems to be a lightly toasted baguette with cheese, pork and ham) in a little corner bar on the east end of the pedestrian street that runs through the old town.  I had a Brugal Extra Viejo in a brandy snifter, with an iced coke on the side.  The midday heat compelled me to dump the rum in the coke after a few sips.  That sort of behavior seems criminal, but the stuff is ubiquitous here so who cares?

 

Tonight I checked out the Brugal Rum Festival de Merengue.  I first sensed this festival was happening while walking along the pedestrian drag this morning.  I saw several statuesque black models strolling along dressed in Brugal Rum outfits.  Something was up.  A little later I was in a café having brunch and couldn’t help noticing that the newspaper being read by the guy sitting beside me contained a big advertisement for a four day Brugal Rum festival.  This guy was rather interesting.  He carried himself with a supremely leisurely air and was literally dripping with gold.  Besides his gold-ornamented spectacles and the numerous gold rings adorning his fingers, he was the only customer in the shop drinking out of a gold rimmed espresso cup.  God knows what was going on there, but I suspect he accessorized by stashing a personal cup behind the counter.  Anyway, all credit to him.

 

After breakfast I took a walk around town and did some tourist stuff.  I checked out the cathedral of Santo Domingo (the oldest cathedral in the New World), Christopher Columbus’s palace, and the palace of the subsequent colonial governors.  All of these places were interesting.  The incredible thing was just how old they were.  I think the cathedral dated back to 1511 – nearly 500 years in other words.  Christopher Columbus’s palace was even older.  Half a millennia is old anywhere, but somehow feels even older in the New World.

 

While checking out Christopher Columbus’s palace I noticed a stage being setting up for the Brugal Rum Festival.  The Brugal Rum Festival was happening right below where Columbus used to live.  Since Columbus died before rum got started I doubt he would have approved.  Perhaps a sherry or Madera festival would have been more appropriate?  I wandered down to ask the workers what the story was and they told me to come back at eight in the evening.

I did so.

 

I got to the festival just before 10 pm to find things in full swing.  In fact, things were swinging so fully that many of the locals were content to just hang off the edges of the event.  Christopher Columbus’s palace was a popular vantage point for those who only wished to look down on proceedings from a distance.  There was a stage, a crowd of enthusiastic dancers, and a dozen or so drink tents.  I worked my way down the hill, wormed through the dancers, and headed for the drink tents.  Most of the tents had no drink menus on display and it was not at all clear what you were supposed to order.  Rows of small Brugal bottles glowered at me menacingly.  Surely you didn’t order rum by the bottle?  Many people were doing just that though.  I found a tent offering mixed drinks.  I think the drink I ordered was called a ‘Mantilla’ or similar.  From what I could see it contained Brugal white rum, fruit punch, grenadine, more rum, and a dash of anise liqueur.  It was overly sweet but quite good.  The guy who mixed it warned me it would be good, saying something to the effect that everything he mixed was exceptionally fine.  I couldn’t disagree.  I passed near his tent again a little later and he screamed at me to come over, whereupon the pair of us confirmed for a second time that his drink was bueno.  He was enthusiastic about his job.

 

I left the festival and walked back up the hill and past Columbus’s palace to the plaza.  There was a Spanish restaurant with a flamenco show happening so I took a table there.  It seemed a good time to give Ron Barcelo Imperial a try.  Ron Barcelo Imperial is very good rum.  The rum tastes like the best parts of a perfectly prepared Spanish flan (i.e. a crème caramel).  It has the perfect mix of caramel and sweetness.  Normally I wouldn’t consider caramel an exciting taste in rum.  Ron Barcelo is an exception, filling the mouth with a caramel that is beautifully complex, sweet and rounded, with hints of tobacco smoke.  I sipped the rum, watched the dancers, fished the ice cubes out of the rum before it became too diluted, and sipped the rum some more.  The Dominican flamenco dancers, the rum, and the plaza beside the palace of Christopher Columbus combined to create something  far from home yet familiar.

Last night I headed to another of the monthly whiskey tastings put on by Glengarry’s. The focus was Bruichladdich, an Islay distillery I am not too familiar with.

Bruichladdich is the only independent distillery on Islay, getting rescued from mothballing by a group of private investors in 2000. The distillery is highly traditional. Indeed it is almost backwards looking in its strong local focus. For example, it uses Victorian production methods, bottles on site, and is gradually moving towards using only locally grown organic barley. In terms of peating levels it produces the most lightly peated whiskeys on Islay, though it has plans to introduce some products that will out-peat anything else around. The tall stills lend the spirit a light and delicate character. Not being chill filtered, the whiskeys are relatively oily. Supposedly you can test this by dipping your finger in a glass, then waiting for the whiskey to drop off your finger. The idea is that a chill filtered whiskey will form a drop that falls from your finger, while a non-chill filtered whiskey will simply torment your patience. This sounded safe to try at home. Based on my experiments, either I have no chill filtered whiskey in the house or I lack the patience for this type of empirical research.

The brand representative previously having been a barman we started off unconventionally, with a cocktail made from the 12 year old Bruichladdich, vanilla sugar, lemon juice, lemoncello and muddled pineapple, garnished with lime leaf. Very tasty. The whiskey and pineapple combination reminded me a little of the Algonquin, though obviously this was a lighter and fruitier drink.

Seven whiskeys followed:

- 12 year old: Light, citrusy, a bit of honey. This was more an aperitif whiskey. I could not help thinking it might make a good mizuwari. Perhaps it would be too delicate though.

- 15 year old: Finished with 40 weeks in sauterne casks, this was richer and smoother than the 12 year old. It shared many of the same characteristics though, with the extra complexity and depth seeing the honey become honeycomb. A compromise between an aperitif and a sipper.

- 18 year old: Bruichladdich use some unusual wine casks to finish their whiskeys. This one is aged in a bourbon cask (as were the others), then finished in a German red pinot desert wine cask. There were mangoes and tropical fruit on the nose, with this fruitiness mixing with a little peat in the mouth.

- Links K Club 14 year old: The unusual pink color may have resulted from the syrah cask finish. The nose was intensely alcoholic. That gave way to a fragrant winey taste in the mouth, eventually replaced by a little peat. The finish was very long. The addition of some water softened it up and rounded the edges – an improvement given its intensity.

- Legacy V 33 year old: This one was only 40% alcohol by volume, making it the weakest of the evening. I went and messed it up by adding water after my initial tasting. It did not taste like it needed water, but I usually taste a whiskey first straight and then with water. The addition of water (usually just a few drops) typically opens up the flavors, changing the dimensions of the whiskey and generally improving it. Water was a mistake in this case though. Anyway, pre-drowning the whiskey was a light, delicate, fruity affair, with a strong apple peel characteristic, reinforced with vanilla-laced wood. Other people reckoned it was seaweedy but I did not really get that. Post-drenching it tasted, well. . . watery.

- Moine Mhor 3D: This was full on peaty whiskey, with a fruity character. While the flavor was intense the finish was kind of short and lacking in complexity.

- Port Charlotte 6 year old: This was easily the most intense whiskey of the night, with 40 parts per million of peat (right up there with Ardberg) and 60% alcohol by volume. Obviously it was peaty, and alongside the peat some medicinal notes, and some of the funky ‘old socks’ taste that characterizes Laphroaig. An interesting whiskey.

The good thing about tastings like these is getting the chance to try a range of whiskeys, sample stuff that would not normally be on your radar, and perhaps learn why what you are tasting differs from your usual favorites. Left to my own devices I would probably keep buying peaty Islay whiskeys like Laphroaig, so trying some of the lighter offerings is very interesting.

To assist my anticipatory salivation ahead of Anistatia Miller and Jared Brown’s Tales of the Cocktail presentation on “The Cafes of Paris”, I have been taking a look at a few lesser known French aperitifs. Several weeks ago I took a look at Pineau des Charentes. Today I focus on a pair of fruit quinquinas.

Quinquina is vermouth’s neglected cousin. Vermouth is well recognized, if widely feared and misunderstood. Martini drinkers fall into two camps: those who really want vermouth in their drink, and those who merely wish to ritualistically conjure up its spirit. However, while vermouth provokes fierce debate and elaborate juju, the mention of quinquina elicits little more than a blank stare. This is a shame because quinquina is an interesting category. To fix those blank stares, perhaps a little explanation is in order.

Both quinquina and vermouth are aromatized wines (i.e. wines flavored with herbs and spices). Quinquinas distinguish themselves from vermouths in using quinine as a key flavoring. As in tonic water, the quinine originally served a medicinal purpose – warding off malaria and all that. Vermouth and quinquina are not mutually exclusive categories. Some vermouth producers sell ‘quinquina’ versions alongside their regular vermouths: for example Martini & Rossi release their sweet vermouth in both ‘quniquina’ and standard versions. However, despite some overlap there are marked differences, with quinquinas tending to emphasize spice while vermouths are more herbal.

Similar to vermouths, which can be broadly classified into sweet and dry styles, quinquinas largely fall into rouge and blanc styles. The rouge style is rich, spicy and based on red wine – Dubonnet Rouge is the classic example. The blanc style is light, citrus accented, and based on white wine – Lillet Blanc is the iconic product.

For some reason neither of these mainstream styles of quinquina ever challenged vermouth to become a ubiquitous cocktail ingredient. Cocktail recipes never casually call for a generic rouge or blanc quinquina. Quinquina is called for only occasionally, and always by brand. Even luminaries like Charles H. Baker considered Dubonnet to be “only needed in the more elaborate establishments”, and I do not recall him mentioning Lillet at all. Considering that Baker saw orgeat, kummel and six types of bitters as more or less essential bar supplies, this adds up to a bit of a slap in the face for the quinquina category.

If mainstream quinquinas like Dubonnet and Lillet are fairly obscure, fruit flavored quinquina are even more so. These fruity quinquina do not fall within either the rouge or blanc styles, with heavy fruit macerations completely masking the base wine. They deserve a look from cocktailians though, offering a great source of fruit flavors and complexity, yet one with minimal sweetness. Two products are introduced below: RinQuinQuin and Orange Colombo.

RinQuinQuin (15% alcohol by volume) is a peach flavored quinquina. It is produced in Provence by the same firm that makes Henri Bardouin pastis. The name means something like an invigorating drink or a pick-me-up in French. The production process involves maceration, distillation, blending and several months of aging. Both distilled alcohol and wine are infused with quinine, other herbs and spices, and peaches. The peaches are what distinguish the product, and are added not as fruit, but rather as leaves, skins and kernels. This makes for a very complex flavor. The product is lightly sweetened. The result is a fruity but refreshingly dry aperitif wine with a distinctly bitter edge.

Orange Colombo (15% alcohol by volume) is an orange flavored quinquina along the same lines as RinQuinQuin. Based on its complex taste I am guessing it is flavored with more than just orange skins. As in RinQuinQuin, leaves, blossoms or other material may also be used.

These fruit quinquina are traditionally consumed either chilled or over ice, perhaps garnished with a twist of lemon. However, there is no reason they cannot be used in cocktails. Bear in mind that their mild fruitiness makes them poor vermouth substitutes, while their lack of sugar and their herbal complexity prevent them from standing in for fruit liqueurs. A bit of a fresh approach is in order.

Here are a few ideas. . .

Peach Martinez

1 oz Genever (Bols Oude)

1 oz Italian vermouth (Martini Rossi)

1 oz RinQuinQuin

2 dashes Fees Whiskey Barrel Aged Bitters

1 tsp maraschino

Stir over ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

A nice take on the Martinez. Cutting the vermouth with RinQuinQuin makes for a lighter and more interesting drink. The Genever provides a mellow but solid base, neither fading into obscurity nor dominating. The complex peach notes mingle nicely with the cherry. Increase the Genever a little if you find it lacks kick.

When playing around with RinQuinQuin to create variations on existing recipes you will probably find that cutting vermouth half-and-half with RinQuinQuin works better than a straight substitution. RinQuinQuin is more of a one note product than vermouth, albeit a complex note.

RinQuinQuin Vesper

3 oz gin (Tanqueray)

1 oz vodka (Stolichnaya)

¼ oz Lillet Blanc

¼ oz RinQuinQuin

Shake over ice, strain into a chilled cocktail glass, and garnish with a large lemon twist.

This is just brilliant. By upping the bitterness the RinQuinQuin addresses the problem of Lillet having been reformulated and lightened since the Vesper was originally invented. The RinQuinQuin also adds a peach layer to the citrus in the Lillet.

Orange Colombo can be used to create another nice Vesper variation. Both products can also be used in regular Martinis, where they work especially well with delicate gins like Tanqueray 10 that stand up poorly to vermouth. I would be inclined to split the quinquina 50/50 with vermouth.

Orange Colombo Pisco Sour

2 oz pisco

½ oz Orange Columbo (or cut back to 1/4 oz)

¾ oz lime juice

1/3 oz simple syrup

1 egg white (half an egg white per drink is sufficient if making multiple drinks)

Dash or two of Fees Whiskey Barrel Aged Bitters

Put everything except the bitters in a mixing glass. Shake long and hard over ice until the drink becomes foamy. Double strain into a sour glass. Finish the drink by garnishing the foam with a few drops of bitters – you can use a toothpick to draw a pattern on the foam. A sour glass, champagne flute or wine glass is preferable for this drink. The garnish of bitters on egg-white foam is intended to provide aroma. A sour glass concentrates the aromas, while the smaller surface area means that the foam, and the aromas, last longer.

The Orange Columbo adds both a subtle orange note and a light bite, making a pleasant variation that jazzes up the original. Perhaps I am not using the right pisco, but I find pisco sours tend to be a little too plain and smooth. Orange Columbo livens things up without creating an unseemly ruckus. You can also try a splash of Orange Colombo in a Margarita – obviously you will still need the orange liqueur, but possibly it could be scaled back a notch.

There is tons of potential for using these obscure fruit quinquina in cocktails. If you see a bottle you should grab it and have a play around. Currently these products are underutilized, leaving the field wide open to experimentation.

The aim of this post is to compare different gins, and thus to learn about their character and uses in cocktails. Understanding the nuances of different gins is crucial to making good gin-based drinks, so the exercise of comparing gins is highly educational. The gins examined here represent a reasonably comprehensive snapshot of the ‘upper end’ of gins currently available in New Zealand, as well as a fair swathe of what is available internationally.

This post is by no means comprehensive. Many premium gins have yet to make it to New Zealand and thus are not featured. Gins from the cheap-and-nasty category are also not featured; sorry, but I wanted to spare myself. Several mainstream gins (e.g. Beefeater, Gordons, Seagrams, and so on) are excluded for reasons of low proof. In the case of Beefeater I believe only the New Zealand version is low proof, making the exclusion a bit unfortunate.

These ‘low proof’ gins clock in at 37.5%. I see 40% alcohol by volume as the bare minimum for a cocktail gin, with somewhere closer to 45% being preferable and anything over 45% being robust. Cocktails necessarily involve dilution. Even with the coldest ice on earth, a low initial proof will mean a dilute drink. Unless the gin is exceptionally strongly flavored I do not see how 37.5% can work well in a cocktail. In fact it seems more designed for the chug-it-on-a-park-bench crowd. If you belong to that crowd I apologize. No, I actually salute you – nervously of course, studiously avoiding eye contact, and without breaking pace as I hurry past.

Finally, New Zealand gins do feature in this comparison. New Zealand has a couple of local brands making ambitious claims. Since I am from New Zealand it makes sense to pit these local gins against international brands and see how they fare.

Gins Included in the Comparison

This comparison featured the following gins:

- Blackwood’s (Scotland)
- Blenheim Bay (New Zealand)
- Bombay Sapphire (England)
- Broker’s (England)
- Hendricks (Scotland)
- Junipero (United States)
- Martin Miller’s (England)
- Plymouth (England)
- South (New Zealand)
- Tanqueray (England)
- Tanqueray 10 (England)

This post is rather long. To make things easier, you can click each of the above gins to go directly to the relevant tasting notes. If you simply scroll down the page you will find the gins organized according to country, then alphabetically. The tasting methodology is described below. After experimenting with the various gins I wrote a post-tasting roundup which can be reached by clicking here.

Tasting Methodology

The tasting was not blind, but it was comprehensive. The tasting procedures were as follows. The gins were tasted alongside one another, at room temperature, in wine glasses holding 20 ml samples. First I nosed each gin and compared it with the others. Then I tasted each gin and compared again. Then I added a splash of tonic to each, and tasted and compared again. This whole process took at least a couple of hours, including breaks to write notes, drink water, etc.

On a separate occasion I made a Martini from each gin (2 oz gin, ½ oz Noilly Prat dry vermouth, 5 drops Regans Orange Bitters, and a lemon twist garnish). Since the martinis were made at separate times they were not compared with one another, making the Martini impressions more subjective than those from the first part of the tasting. Obviously it was not feasible to simultaneously make that many martinis and compare them.

On another occasion I used each gin in an Aviation (2 oz gin, ½ oz lemon juice, 1/3 oz Maraska Maraschino, 1/6 oz Brittotet Crème de Violette). The Aviation is essentially a gin sour, and since a sour is a very different type of drink to a Martini, a gin that works in one will not necessarily work in the other. The idea was to test the versatility of each gin.

In the case of some of the gins I made other cocktails in addition to a Martini and an Aviation, guided by my sense of what might work.

For each gin I start with brief product information, record impressions from the various stages of the tasting, and finish with a general comment or two.

The Urbane Englishmen

Bombay Sapphire (40% vol)

The release of this gin in 1987 pretty much got the premium gin category started. It is allegedly based on a 1761 recipe, and incorporates ten botanicals: almond, lemon peel, liquorice, juniper berries, orris root, angelica, coriander, cassia, cubeb berries and grains of paradise. Since the release of Bombay Sapphire the company’s original product, Bombay Dry Gin, has become hard to find. Bombay Dry Gin is said to have a more robust and traditional flavor profile, while Bombay Sapphire is positioned as more refined and sophisticated.

- Nose: Dry spices – like faded perfume. Little evidence of citrus or juniper, there is too much else going on. It differs from the other English gins in focusing on dry aromatics to the total exclusion of fruity elements. The ‘dry spice’ character reminds me of the Bokma Jonge from my earlier genever comparison. I wonder what spice that is? Part of it seemed to be angelica, but something else in there was even stronger.

- Taste: Multifaceted and complex. It is simultaneously spicy, dry and sweet. The dominant note is liquorice, and it borders on sickly sweet. Simultaneously there is lots of dry spice. Juniper is absent. There is a lingering dry and alcoholic aftertaste with only slight bitterness. Overall I do not much like it. This is a very confusing gin that does not taste at all like gin.

- Tonic: To my surprise it suddenly became very enjoyable with tonic. I am not sure if this is because the tonic tastes the edge off it, or because the flavors actually improve. Anyway, it makes for a nice dry gin and tonic. There is not much bitterness, but lots of interesting spice. My criticism would be that the flavor is a tad muddy and lacking in direction. There are interesting things going on, but the conclusion seems uncertain. Still good though.

- Martini: Pleasant but lacks bite. The light spicy character is nice, but there is no clear progression from initial taste to aftertaste. While there is lots of flavor, it is all light and spicy and superficial. I think this gin works well with tonic because the tonic supplies the bitterness missing in the gin. Anyway, it is not a bad Martini, but lacks the bite necessary to complete the drink.

- Aviation: This does not work. The light spiciness gets lost amidst the lemon juice and liqueurs, making for a drink with little going on besides a sweet and sour profile. The juniper bite that should give the drink its backbone is missing, and the result is confusing and directionless.

- Palm Beach Special: I made this with 2 ½ oz gin, ¾ oz grapefruit juice and ½ oz Italian vermouth, shaken over ice and served up. This was better than the Aviation, though I still think another gin would be equally good or better. As with tonic, Bombay Sapphire may work nicely with grapefruit here because the grapefruit provides the bitterness this very non-bitter gin lacks.

Final Comment: Too different to classify as a true gin. Mixing with this is likely to be disappointing unless you are very careful. It has its uses though, and makes a nice G&T.

Broker’s (40% vol)

This is a fairly new gin, being launched in 1998. It does not explicitly place itself in the ‘premium’ category, adopting a more low key approach to marketing. The producers do not seem to take themselves too seriously, and each bottle is capped with a distinctive bowler hat. The botanicals are juniper berries, orris root, coriander seeds, nutmeg, cassia, cinnamon, liquorice, orange peel, lemon peel, and angelica root. Cassia and cinnamon are very similar, and often substituted in cooking – with cassia being hotter and less fragrant. The use of both of these spices is interesting, and may account for this gin’s fragrant and woody notes.

Nose: Earthy, woody notes and juniper up front, followed by spice accented citrus.

Taste: The initial attack is mild, but when the full taste arrives it is very solid. Warm spices build towards a solid ball of juniper. Swallowing brings a lingering and tingling sensation of juniper, bitter spice, and a hint of citrus. The aftertaste does not resolve very tidily. You could see this either as a fault or as adding interest. I think I see it the latter way.

Tonic: Quite a mouth puckering gin and tonic, with juniper and quinine bitterness compounding one another. It is enjoyable but plain. You definitely want a citrus wedge in there, and I would also add a splash of bitters.

Martini: A solid Martini. The gin and vermouth combine almost too harmoniously, practically blending into one. Besides juniper, there is smooth citrus, a subtle liquorice note I had not previously detected, and miscellaneous spices. This lacks the bite and zing of some Martinis, but manages to simultaneously be easy drinking and have a fairly traditional profile.

Aviation: A sweetish but well rounded Aviation. The liqueurs shine through particularly brightly, but the juniper is big enough to provide balance. A woody note in the gin complements the maraschino. The aftertaste is long, slightly untidy, but interesting. Like Junipero (see below) this gin tends towards being simplistic, but is robust enough to work in a sour. A good mixing gin.

Jupiter: I made this with 1 1/2 oz gin, 3/4 oz Noilly Prat, and 1 tsp each of orange juice and Parfait Amour. The gin passed the test again, standing up fine to the big dose of vermouth. This gins makes for a conservative interpretation of the drink, with the liqueur alone providing the floral notes. That is probably as it should be. The gin does not dominate, but nor is it shoved aside. It works well.

Final Comment: A respectable mixing gin with a woody and spicy character. It makes a decent, if slightly plain, G&T and Martini. It is versatile in cocktails.

Martin Miller’s (45.2% vol)

This is a premium gin, launched in 2002. In the spirit of premium vodkas there is a gimmicky marketing story. Specifically, the distilled spirit is shipped to Iceland where it is mixed with pure glacier waters before being shipped back to England for bottling. Wow dude, it must be like, really. . . pure, or something. Disregarding the hype, the botanicals are juniper berries, orange peel, lemon peel, coriander, liquorice, cinnamon, cassia, nutmeg, angelica and orris root. A ‘secret ingredient’, rumored to be cucumber, is added to the spirit after distillation. This gin comes in two strengths, a 40% vol standard version and a 45.2% Westbourne Strength. I tasted the Westbourne Strength.

Nose: Intense aroma, with fragrant roots up front, orangey citrus, and a floral note that hangs over everything and softens it. For some reason I seem to be perceiving the cucumber as ‘floral’ rather than ‘vegetal’. Mind you, orris root is said to have a violet smell, so I may be smelling that.

Taste: Citrus, rich spice, and gentle rounded edges. The juniper is restrained but still makes its presence felt. The aftertaste is gentle, leaving behind mild juniper, citrus, warm spices like nutmeg, and palate cleansing cucumber. Smooth and delicate, but not too sweet. I like the nutmeg aspect. My concern would be that this gin is a little delicate for mixing; the strong floral aspects also do not help in this regard.

Tonic: Tonic killed this one. The nose more or less disappeared. No aspect of the taste stood out especially. It was pleasant enough, but the tonic masked the gin more than it complemented it.

Martini: A Martini brings the spicy elements of this gin to the fore and nudges the floral notes into the background. There was the suggestion of a ‘Christmas orange’ type taste – I am thinking a clove studded orange stewed in spiced wine. Some of this may be coming from the orange bitters. It is a nicely balanced drink, if slightly delicate. That is, though it is easy to drink and tastes well balanced, at this ratio the vermouth threatens to dominate – and the vermouth undoubtedly would dominate if I was using the 40% alcohol by volume version. This gin could be a touch more robust. The perfect martini gin should easily stand up to a slug of vermouth. That said, this is a respectable modern gin that manages to be creative while remaining true to its roots. It is just a rather delicate take on classic gin. Overall a good Martini gin, with potential to convert non-Martini drinkers.

Aviation: Makes for a smooth and sophisticated Aviation. Rather than a distinct juniper bite, the juniper is just one brick in a larger wall of spice. It is smooth and balanced. The emphasis is on the subtler spicy botanicals, not citrus and juniper, and the aftertaste is satisfyingly long. The floral notes from the crème de violette are present without running riot. This reminds me of how Bombay Sapphire would taste in an Aviation if it worked. The orris root adds an further floral dimension. This gin makes a classy if subtle Aviation. It may not be the ultimate Aviation, but it is hard to fault.

Final Comment: A nice ‘modern’ Martini gin, but take care when mixing with it. This gin should be widely appealing, and does not depart too far from tradition.

Plymouth (41.2% vol)

This gin is very old, having been produced since 1793. Arguably Plymouth is a unique gin style that predates London Dry and has a softer character. The formula includes seven botanicals: juniper berries, lemon peel, orange peel, orris root, angelica, cardamom and coriander.

Nose: Rich citrus, and soft rather than sharp. Hints of spice behind the citrus. Very pleasant.

Taste: Pleasant multi-layered citrus flavor, backed up by some bitterness. The aftertaste is long, with a teasing tingling sensation on the tongue gradually resolving into bitterness. Orange aromas linger in the mouth.

Tonic: An underwhelming gin and tonic. My criticism would be that it is a bit sweet. The big emphasis on citrus means there is little to counter the sweet notes in the tonic (at least in the case of Schweppes). As with some of the other gins, the addition of tonic brought out the dry and aromatic botanicals, but they remained subtle. There are better gins out there for mixing with tonic.

Martini: Makes a light, smooth, and easy drinking Martini. You get multi-layered citrus up front, faint suggestions of spice, then bringing up the rear is a subtle but satisfying juniper and bitter citrus bite. The gin is not exactly assertive (unlike say Junipero), but nor is it the least cowed by the vermouth. The two balance nicely. Traditionalists would say it lacked juniper bite. Sophisticates would say it lacked complexity. Normal people would just quietly enjoy it. This is good, and possibly a gin for converting non Martini drinkers.

Aviation: This Aviation is smoother than some, but possesses enough bite to stop it becoming a simple ‘sweet and sour’ story. The bite tends towards citrusy rather than junipery though. It works fine, but there are better Aviation gins out there. While this gin is robust enough to work in a gin sour, its citrusy flavors might be more at home in a White Lady than an Aviation. That said, this gin passes the test OK.

Final Comment: An excellent all round gin. It has an easy drinking character and mixes exceptionally well. A good introductory gin for non gin drinkers, and a great standby for gin aficionados.

Tanqueray (40% vol)

Another old gin, dating back to 1830. The spirit is quadruple distilled, with the botanicals introduced during the final distillation. The only botanicals named are juniper, coriander and angelica, but presumably others are also in there.

Nose: Juniper, sharp citrus, and hints of other aromatics. The impression is rich, smooth, full, and slightly pungent.

Taste: I would call this a nice standard gin taste. Strong juniper, offset with citrus and suggestions of other aromatics. The mouth feel has some pleasant rich oiliness. The aftertaste lingers as light bitterness on the tongue. There is not much alcoholic burn. Still, it feels like it could be more intense. At times the taste seemed on the point of falling apart. This may have something to do with the fairly low proof (only 40%). I remember the full proof Tanqueray as being similar but far more intense and integrated.

Tonic: Tonic seems to bring out the citrus notes. It is pleasant but not very interesting. The Bombay has more happening, even if I do not especially like it.

Martini: I have mostly been using Plymouth in my Martinis recently, but Tanqueray is nicer than I remember. This Martini is smooth and rich, with a nice balance of juniper and vermouth aromatics. There is a not unpleasant oily feel on the tongue. The orange from the bitters blends in nicely but still makes its presence felt (and perhaps could be scaled back just a notch and still sensed). The aftertaste is clean citrus with some lingering bitterness. Everything is nicely balanced and integrated, and there is a good depth of flavor. The drink stays pleasant as it warms up. If I were to fault it I would say that it is a little lightweight, and that the vermouth dominates just a fraction this ratio. However, I suspect this feeling is more related to the low proof of New Zealand Tanqueray (40% vol) than the Tanqueray formula itself. I never noticed this issue with higher proof Tanqueray.

Aviation: A well balanced aviation. The gin stands up fine to the lemon juice and liqueurs, giving the drink a structure that makes it more than just sweet and sour. It is mostly about citrus and juniper bite though, with the subtler botanicals relegated to second place by the liqueurs and juice. I think I prefer the high proof Tanqueray in this drink. From memory the higher proof Tanqueray makes a very bracing Aviation with a limey edge.

Final Comment: A richly flavored gin that is good in Martinis and for general mixing. It is robust and traditional rather than sophisticated and creative. However, the high proof version seems (from memory at least) markedly superior to the 40% version.

Tanqueray 10 (47.3% vol)

This premium version of Tanqueray was introduced in 2000, apparently to cater to Martini drinkers and gin purists. It differs from other gins in that the fruit botanicals (including grapefruit, orange and lime) are added in fresh rather than dried form. Besides fruit the botanicals also include juniper and chamomile. The promotional material stresses that this gin can be enjoyed neat.

Nose: Less rich and intense than the standard Tanqueray. Citrus dominates, with juniper taking a back seat. Structurally it is more a delicate perfume than a solid aroma punch.

Taste: Sharp, intense and sweetish. Lime and juniper dominate. There is some fruitiness, a suggestion of gingery heat, and a light bittersweet effect. Overall it is smooth, delicate, and easy to drink. The flavor profile almost seems designed not to be mixed, despite the fairly high alcohol. There is an odd glycerin character – i.e. sweetness.

Tonic: Makes an extremely limey gin and tonic. This almost needs no citrus garnish. I probably prefer the standard Tanqueray with tonic. The Tanqueray 10 G&T takes the limey character of the standard Tanqueray version a step further but offers little else. The delicate profile is masked by the tonic and little but lime remains.

Martini: Smooth, rounded, with a big emphasis on fruity citrus. Not as bracing as some Martini gins, but pleasant and easy to drink, with a gentle attack and a lingering aftertaste. The vermouth dominates a little, masking the character of the gin somewhat. The vermouth should probably be reduced when making a martini with this gin.

Lillet Martini: Instead of reducing the vermouth, I made a Martini variation with Lillet in place of Noily Prat (2 oz gin, 1/2 oz Lillet, 5 drops orange bitters, lemon twist). The drink tended towards being sweet and fruity, but the Lillet let the characteristics of the gin shine through better than the vermouth did. The orange bitters was not entirely necessary, and could have been reduced to just a drop. A 50/50 split between Lillet and Noily Prat might produce a better drink.

Rin Quin Quin Martini: I made a Martini variation with 2 oz gin, ¼ oz Rin Quin Quin, ¼ oz Noilly Prat, 5 drops of Regans Orange Bitters, and a lemon twist garnish. I did not do a side by side comparison, but this seemed better than the Lillet version above. It was interesting anyway. The delicate gin let the peach flavors shine, and the scaled back dose of dry vermouth provided complexity without dominating too much.

Aviation: Not a great aviation gin. Thin rather than rounded. The fruity notes of the gin fuse with the fruity and floral liqueurs, and the contrast required to round out the drink is lacking. This threatens to become another vodka-cocktail ‘sweet-and-sour’ story. While the juniper bite is there, it is weak and one-dimensional. Those wanting a ‘sophisticated’ rather than a ‘robust’ take on the Aviation should probably go for Martin Millers, which is light handed but does the job. Tanqueray 10 falls flat.

Final Comment: The heavy citrus notes and sweetness probably probably make this an appealing gin to many. I would say the basic Tanqueay was the better gin though. It seems hard to call Tanqueray 10 a good Martini gin given that making a balanced Martini out of it requires reducing the vermouth to an almost infinitesimal amount. Tanqueray 10 is also not a versatile mixing gin – at least so far as traditional drinks are concerned. Tanqueray 10 is tasty, but its applications seem limited.

The Eccentric Scots

Hendricks (44% vol)

This product was launched in 2000, and so far as I know it started the recent trend towards floral gins. The initial distillation includes unspecified botanicals. The distilled spirit is then infused with the two very non-traditional flavors of rose and cucumber.

Nose: Big, soft, floral aroma. You can smell the rose. There also seems to be some citrus. Interesting, but hard to know what to make of it.

Taste: Sweet and floral, but with some bitterness to balance. For some reason I do not really detect the cucumber drinking it straight, though I remember noticing it in mixed drinks. Smooth with no unpleasant notes. The aftertaste is lasting and rose scented.

Tonic: The floral character seemed intensified. The cucumber became more noticeable, as did the spices. The tonic brought out dimensions I had not noticed when drinking it straight, and in a pleasant way. I am not sure if the floral character really matches a gin and tonic. A cucumber garnish would help cater to its unconventional identity. Very enjoyable, but too unconventional to be my ideal gin and tonic gin.

Martini: Very smooth and drinkable. The rose character is an interesting presence but does not fight with the other botanicals. An unconventional Martini, which for me prevents it from being “the ultimate Martini gin”. However, it is nice.

Aviation: This Aviation is floral, focused on the initial flavors and aromas, and weak on the aftertaste. It is less floral than Blackwood’s, and the rose notes possibly integrate with the violet better than the more eccentric floral characteristics of the Blackwood’s do. However, it still seems a bit confused and inconsistent with what an Aviation should be. There is just too much going on aroma-wise and not enough juniper. A poor Aviation gin.

Blackthorne: I made this with 1 ½ oz gin, ¾ oz Dubonnet, and ¾ oz Kirsch. Very smooth and pleasant. It may be my imagination, but the rose aromas in the gin seem to peek pleasantly around the edges of the kirsch.

Final Summary: This gin deserves credit for winning popularity through an unconventional approach. The floral flavor profile and lack of juniper prevent it from being an all-purpose mixing gin for traditional drinks. On the other hand, it makes a pleasant Martini or G&T, and has potential in recipes that are tailor made to match its special characteristics. Enjoy it, but use with caution.

Blackwood’s (40% vol – 2003 vintage*)

I cannot find the exact year this gin was launched, but it appears to have been shortly after 2000. The gin is produced on Shetland, a remote island located far off the northeast coast of Scotland. Shetland has a heavy Norse influence (geographically it is half-way to Norway) and this no doubt explains the Viking longboat on the label. Besides gin, the producers of Blackwood’s are also involved in establishing Shetland’s first commercial whiskey distillery. Blackwood’s is an unusual gin, with the botanicals including wild plants harvested on Shetland itself. The non-traditional Shetland sourced botanicals are sea pinks and meadow sweet (both flowers), and wild water mint. The producers have even experimented with seaweed. Other botanicals include angelica and coriander (harvested on Shetland), as well as citrus peel, cinnamon, nutmeg, liquorice, orris, juniper, tumeric and violet flowers (sourced elsewhere). This gin pours with a faint green tinge, almost like the sea.

Nose: Dry spices like Bombay Sapphire, but the much lower intensity lets fresher herbal scents show through as well. You can pick out mint. There is citrus too, but it is more a light presence than something that leaps out. An unusual gin with a funky and interesting nose.

Taste: Comes alive in your mouth, releasing a host of floral and herbal flavors. The floral character reminds me of Hendricks but is drier and more multi-faceted. I like it. The aftertaste hangs around as persisting bitterness, plus fruity and herbal flavors. If you were to criticize you would call the taste confused. I enjoy it though.

Tonic: I really enjoyed what the tonic did to this. The nose stayed floral but somehow the spices were dragged further to the fore. The sweet herbal dimensions were also exposed. With tonic this gin makes a very clean and unusual drink, filled with interesting but hard to pin down tastes.

Martini: Makes a nice martini, tending towards smooth, floral and slightly sweet. Not bracing and junipery enough be the ultimate martini gin, but tasty nonetheless. The bitter-sweet quality (from the herbs and flowers?) makes a gentler alternative to the classic juniper bite of more mainstream gins. This could be a Martini with potential to convert non Martini drinkers.

Aviation: This does not quite work. The result is not unpleasant, but it is too floral and too much about ‘sweet-and-sour’. As with the Bombay Sapphire, this gin simply lacks sufficient backbone to stand up to the liqueurs and lemon juice in this cocktail. Big floral notes fade away into an invisible aftertaste. That said, in a different drink the floral notes in this gin would probably mix well with floral liqueurs.

Jupiter Cocktail: This drink (1 ½ oz gin, ¾ oz dry vermouth, 1 tsp parfait amour, 1 tsp orange juice, stir, serve up) produced an intriguing result. The blossomy fragrance in the Parfait Amour works well with the wild flowers in the gin. A bitter-sweet character takes hold as the vanilla in the liqueur and the bitter herbs indulge in a bit of a play fight. The drink is greenish rather than purple. Maybe it should be renamed Neptune? Most enjoyable.

Final Summary: I find this gin very enjoyable, but the extreme floral flavors are not going to be for everybody. Obviously the floral character limits the versatility of this gin in terms of mixing traditional drinks. The alleged variation between vintages presents a further challenge*. An interesting and enjoyable product, but use with caution and be prepared for occasional disappointment.

* Blackwood’s is supposedly made to different formulations every summer depending on the vagaries of weather and distiller’s whim. There is a bit of online discussion about this gin varying greatly between different years. For example, short, wet summers during 2006 and 2007 led to the angelica component being reduced because little locally grown angelica was available. In short, it is an eccentric and variable product, so be prepared for inconsistencies over time.

The Unassuming Kiwis

South (40.2% vol)

This gin was launched by the 42 Below vodka company, famous for their off-beat advertisements. The juniper is scaled back to let other botanicals shine. Besides juniper the botanicals include coriander, orris, angelica, sweet orange, lemon peel, gentian, manuka berries and kawakawa leaves. Manuka and kawakawa are native to New Zealand and reputed to have medicinal properties.

Nose: Dry spices with just a little citrus. The nose is lighter than any of the other gins. Whatever is going on is quite subtle. The angelica makes its presence felt though. This reminds me of Bombay Sapphire more than anything else, but is much less intense.

Taste: Juniper bite, oily citrus, and dry spices that include an interesting peppery character. I am guessing the peppery taste comes from the New Zealand botanicals, manuka berries and kawakawa leaves, and likely the latter. This gin is pleasant to hold in your mouth and savor. The taste somehow seems not to resolve itself very well on swallowing though. The aftertaste carries a lingering peppery note, but is slightly one dimensional.

Tonic: The tonic removes whatever aroma this gin had. With tonic the taste became extremely light, with the peppery character remaining detectable. While perfectly drinkable, I suspect tonic kills this gin more than it complements it. Maybe this gin is just too light to start off with?

Martini: The gin does not give much resistance to the vermouth. The peppery finish manages to survive and is quite interesting. The drink lacks character but is not unpleasant. This gin needs a much bigger dose of aromatics, particularly juniper.

Aviation: The juniper bite is lacking, but the light pepper finish goes some way towards making up for it. The drink tastes too sweet. Not bad in a light-weight kind of way. A more assertive gin would work better.

White Lady: In a White Lady (1 ½ oz gin, ¾ oz lemon juice, ¾ oz Marie Brizard Triple Sec, 1 egg white) the pepper notes in the gin create a gentle ‘lemon and pepper’ effect, leaning heavily towards lemon. A cracked peppercorn in the shaker might further bring out the pepper aspect. The aftertaste is short. This is different and interesting, but a bit limp wrested.

Final Summary: Too lightweight to be truly interesting, despite having some potential. The inclusion of native New Zealand botanicals is a nice idea, but the product needs a much fuller flavor.

Blenheim Bay (42.5% vol)

This gin is produced by a company called Prenzel that is also involved in fruit liqueurs, specialty oils, vinegars and other gourmet food items. The botanicals include juniper, cassia, angelica, liquorice, hyssop, orris, coriander, elemi, bitter orange peel, sweet orange peel and lemon peel. After successes at one or two international spirits competitions the producers are touting this gin as the best in the world.

Nose: Unusual compared to the others. A distinctly sweet smell, like lemon candy. Strong citrus with lemon dominating. An odd ‘winey’ smell that I would not normally associate with gin – my guess is that it comes from a sweetening agent. The aroma is not well integrated, and seems on the brink of falling apart and perhaps revealing something unpleasant.

Taste: The immediate impression is of sweet citrus – mainly lemon. There was a sense of tasting the sweetness separately from the other flavors. It sounds silly but it was almost as though there was a ‘sweet’ flavor in there with everything else – ‘glycerin’ would be how I would describe it. Liquorice is discernible. This gin is not very integrated. It is like swallowing a cocktail of essential oils that then separate in your mouth. The aftertaste is alcoholic heat on the tongue plus lemon aroma on the roof of the mouth.

Tonic: The sweet citrus candy character was intensified by the tonic. The result was weird, and increasingly like drinking lemon oil rather than gin. This gin is just badly balanced.

Martini: The first impression was just ‘not very nice’. It is sharp, very lemony (but still the weird lemon candy taste) and a little soapy. It is simply not well integrated. The separate flavors seem to be fighting. It is also quite harsh.

Aviation: Not a good drink. Even the maraschino finds itself fighting with the omnipresent lemon candy taste. The bad qualities of this gin are sufficiently strong to show through even in a heavily liqueur flavored sour like the Aviation.

White Lady: A White Lady helps hide the flaws of this gin. It isn’t exactly good, but it is less bad than the other cocktails. It works because the lemony quality of the gin is at least pulling in the same direction as the triple sec.

Final Summary: A bad quality and unbalanced gin that is best avoided. Just possibly I am having a bad response to the Elemi, a fragrant oil with a ‘lemon and pine’ character used to flavor this gin. I don’t like Earl Grey tea, and perhaps Elemi is similar to oil of bergamot in taste. However, I think the gin is simply poorly made.

The Quiet American

Junipero (49.3% vol)

The long established Anchor Brewing Company became involved in distilling in 1993. Their regular product range includes several whiskeys as well as this gin. The specific botanicals in this gin are a secret, though clearly it has a heavy juniper profile.

Nose: A fairly light aroma, mostly of juniper, backed up by a little hot spice. It is simple and solid rather than elaborate and perfumed. Citrus does not feature.

Taste: Uncomplicated but intense juniper and spice taste. No citrus, just juniper and a little hot spice. It is quite a big taste, with the emphasis heavily on juniper. Bitter juniper lingers in the aftertaste. A taste like this almost demands to be complemented by something else. This gin should be pretty good for mixing.

Tonic: Such complexities as the gin has get masked by tonic, leaving behind nothing much besides a robust bitterness. Not bad, but you definitely want a citrus wedge to round out the flavor. I like a dash of bitters in a G&T anyway, but bitters become almost a requirement here. Tasty in a basic way.

Martini: Full flavored. A big juniper bite, without clever distractions. I would call this a good Martini gin. The taste is crisp and intense rather than ‘oily’ like Tanqueray. The vermouth definitely rounds out the flavor rather than fighting or overwhelming it. If you were to fault it you would say it was insufficiently complex. I think it is a nice gin for a vermouth heavy martini. The assertive character is boosted by the high proof.

Aviation: A nice bracing drink. The gin provides the juniper bite needed to balance the maraschino and crème de violette. Given the uncomplicated nature of this gin, the liqueurs get to dominate the initial taste, while the juniper takes over in the aftertaste. It works nicely. Some would say there not enough was going on. I am torn between calling this a great mixing gin and criticizing it for lacking complexity. I like its simplicity, and I like the fact it works when relegated to a supporting role; this is what gin should do, and too many modern premium gins fail in this regard. However, its simplicity threatens to become a flaw. Anyway, this gin has the backbone to work in a sour, somewhere a lot of premium gins fall flat.

Final Summary: A robust mixing gin. This should work well in any gin cocktail, with the high proof and strong taste providing ample backbone. Those wanting a complex and multi-layered gin may be disappointed though.

The Roundup

This exercise has been hugely educational for me, giving me a far better understanding of the nuances of gin. I encourage anyone reading to try something similar if they haven’t already. The gin market is characterized by increasingly diverse flavor profiles. While gin is growing in popularity, it is no longer simply ‘gin’. Making a good gin drink increasingly requires understanding individual brands. You cannot simply throw a random gin into a recipe and expect things to work.

The “unginlike” nature of many of the new premium gins is a concern. While the growing appreciation of gin is good, there has been a trend towards non-confrontational gins that are easy to appreciate with minimal mixing. Personally I am the type that likes to be smacked around occasionally. I also think a spirit that already tastes almost like a mixed drink is likely to be difficult to mix with.

Getting all academic for a moment, the growing popularity of gin seems to be accompanied by two dangers: vodkaization and balkanization. While many of the new gins are nice, they do not always have sufficient backbone to stand up to other ingredients in classic cocktails. I think of this trend towards smooth and lightly flavored gins as vodkaization. Equally, many of the new gins have eccentric flavor profiles that may be less versatile, at least in mixing old-school drinks, than traditional juniper focused gins. I think of this trend as balkanization. Inventiveness is fantastic, but care needs to be taken when using more eccentric products. Few bartenders appreciate the limitations of using non-traditional gins in traditional drinks.

The fact that many of the modern gins got drowned in the conservatively mixed Martinis and Aviations I tested here demonstrates my point. The classic Martini ratio is 2:1, so by mixing the Martinis in this comparison at 4:1 I was already being quite modern. Any serious gin should assert itself at this ratio. Furthermore, any serious gin should be able to handle the ½ oz of lemon juice I put in my Aviations. At 2 oz gin to 1 oz of combined lemon juice and liqueurs, my Aviations were already dry and gin oriented. For general purpose mixing then, and even classic Martinis, I prefer more traditional gins. The modern gins make a nice change occasionally, but recipes might need to be adjusted to compensate.

My favorites among the traditional gins were probably Tanqueray (at least the full strength version) for a full flavored gin and Plymouth for something lighter. That said, Broker’s and Junipero were both good, if perhaps slightly lacking in terms of balance and complexity. Beefeater is another good traditional gin, even if I did not include it here. Among the non-traditional gins I liked Blackwood’s and Martin Miller’s, with Miller’s being the more traditional and versatile of the two. Hendricks did not grab me so much, perhaps only because it was no longer new to me at the time of tasting. I can see why it is widely appealing though.  As for the New Zealand products, New Zealand has a way to go yet in terms of gin. Finally, I found Bombay Sapphire may have something to offer after all, despite me having long avoided it after bad experiences with Aviations and White Ladies. In fact Bombay Sapphire it not exactly bad, it is just a modern gin that does not work well in older recipes.

Feel free to post your own thoughts on this comparison. Do you agree that gin as a category is fragmenting into mild but often eccentric modern gins versus robust traditional gins? Do you have any comments on the gins I compared? What about the gins I did not cover? Which gins do you like to use in different drinks?

Genever, the original gin, is a true old worldly spirit.

Genever was the original gin. Genever’s old fashioned credentials are highlighted by the way its producers play fast and loose with spelling. You can buy genever, geneva, genievre, jenever, jeniever, junever, and probably more; in English you might also find it called ‘Holland gin’ or ‘square gin’. Mark Twain once said he felt nothing but contempt for a man who could only spell a word one way. We can only imagine the esteem in which Mark Twain would have held genever producers. Genever was the popular gin style in the United States throughout most of the 19^th Century, so Mark Twain surely found frequent occasion to reflect upon the orthographical creativity of its distillers.

Genever has plenty of claims to fame besides creative spelling, boasting a rich and colorful history, as well as an early place at the cocktail bar. While the urbane and clean-shaven London Dry is the dominant gin style today, Genever is its extravagantly whiskered, baccy chewin’, gold prospecting grandpa. Genever may have fallen on hard times and be living under a bridge, but we should consider making its acquaintance. Cocktail bars have done themselves a disservice by showing Genever the door, since Genever was where gin cocktails started. Yes, to enjoy such old worldly delights such as the Fancy Gin Cocktail, the Improved Gin Cocktail, the Gin Fix and the Gin Daisy, you are going to require the company of Genever. The Martinez cocktail, from which the Martini is said to have evolved, is another excuse to give Genever an outing. While the Martinez was originally made with the hard to find Old Tom (a sort of hybrid gin falling somewhere between Genever and London Dry), in its absence Genever is the most flavorsome substitute. London Dry might wow the crowds today, but Genever has been around long enough to have learned a few tricks.

So what is the story behind Genever?

Not the Gin Doctor. . . The 17th Century Dr. Sylvius pictured here did not prescribe his patients gin, making him less fun than his 16th Century predecessor.

Genever and Gin History

Genever was invented in Holland in the late 16^th Century. The confusion surrounding the individual responsible for this advance in human civilization could provide ample material for a boozy remake of Shakespeare’s Comedy of Errors. The source of the confusion is the mixing up of two physicians, who shared key characteristics yet lived decades apart*. Both men were called Doctor Sylvius, were physicians and chemists, and were renowned professors at the University of Leyden. The similarities end there though. The first Dr. Sylvius, Sylvius de Bouve, lived in the 16th Century. By inventing Genever, this Dr. Sylvius showed the world that medicine could be tremendously fun. Meanwhile, the second Dr. Sylvius, Franciscus Sylvius, lived in the 17th Century. This Dr. Sylvius contributed to our anatomical knowledge of the brain, a worthy but dull achievement. The second Dr. Sylvius got the last laugh though. The invention of gin was widely misattributed to him, letting him go down in history as the brain researcher with a wild side.

To redress the above injustice we should now raise a glass and toast the original Dr. Sylvius, Sylvius de Bouve, for kindly inventing gin. Exactly what ailment Dr. Sylvius was trying to cure is murky, with applications of the new medicine ranging from back pain to cold feet, insomnia and more. Anyway, while Dr. Sylvius fretted about matters medical, his friends and patients swiftly realized that the new medicine had quite a few non-medicinal applications. History took a new and exciting direction.

In fact, Genever was simply a variation on the korenbrandewijn (literally ‘barley wine’ that had been ‘burnt’ – or distilled), which had been well known in Holland before Dr. Sylvius set up his still. Dr. Sylvius’ innovation was improving the palatability of this firewater by spiking it with a mixture of juniper berries and other aromatics. Juniper berries were a popular flavoring in Europe at the time, even being used in beer; in fact the Sahti beers of Finland are still flavored with juniper. Holland’s recently acquired colonies made exotic spices more available than ever before. Dr. Sylvius produced a superior variant of korenbrandewijn by combining careful distilling, juniper, and spices from around the globe. By 1595 he was selling his product as ‘Genova’.

The original Genever was distilled using pot stills from a malted barley ‘beer’. This produced a rich distillate, not unlike unaged Scotch whiskey. The distillate was then further flavored with juniper and spices. This traditional style of Genever is now known as korenwijn (literally ‘corn wine’), and remains the most flavorsome style.

The late 19^th and early 20^th centuries saw new styles of Genever emerge, driven by the greater efficiencies offered by column stills as opposed to pot stills, as well as by wartime austerity measures that limited the availability of barley. A distinction developed between Oude (or ‘old’) and Jonge (or ‘young’) styles of Genever, corresponding to traditional and modern production methods, respectively. Both these styles are blends of different types of spirits. The Oude style is malty and sweet, and contains a high proportion of korenwijn, cut with neutral grain or other alcohol. The Jonge style is lighter and drier, with a higher proportion of neutral alcohol and a lower proportion of korenwijn. Korenwijn also continues to be sold, but accounts for only a small share of the market.

Dr. Sylvius’ medicine became awfully popular

Through the 17^th, 18^th and 19^th Centuries Holland exported large quantities of Genever to thirsty markets throughout Europe and the Americas. Genever became especially popular in England, helped along by the arrival on the throne of a Dutch king, William of Orange. The English were soon producing their own version of the spirit, which they dubbed ‘gin’. The English gin industry rapidly grew, encouraged by a government that saw gin production as a way of soaking up Britain’s large grain surplus. The first style of English gin to become popular was Old Tom, a sweetened, grain-based, juniper flavored pot still spirit lying somewhere between Genever and London Dry. This was followed by Plymouth Gin, a drier gin with a soft citrus character. Finally London Dry emerged as the dominant style, being based on neutral alcohol produced in column stills, extremely dry and aromatic, and heavily flavored with juniper. Unlike Genever and Old Tom, London Dry was formulated with mixing in mind.

These days it is the English who export their gin around the world, and most Genever remains in producing countries like Holland and Belgium (Belgium is also a producer). The Dutch and Belgians generally drink it neat, and have entire bars devoted to the stuff. In keeping with the move towards lighter Genever styles, the modern tradition is to drink Genever chilled, preferably from chilled shot glasses. Genever is often served this way as a chaser to beer. Despite its exceptional cocktail pedigree, Genever is no longer widely used as a cocktail ingredient.

Demystifying Genever classifications and terminology

Modern genever is classified into the following varieties:

Korenwijn: This is the closest thing you will find to the original 16^th Century Genever. Perhaps you can think of it as the ‘single malt’ version of Genever, though the analogy is an imperfect one. This variety comprises 50-70% pure korenwijn (i.e. distillate of malted barley), diluted with between 30-50% neutral distillate (produced from other grains such as corn, molasses, potatoes, or whatever else is deemed suitable). Though not mandatory, Korenwijn is sometimes aged for several years in oak barrels. The result is an extremely malty, rich, and flavorsome spirit, with both the base spirit and the botanicals contributing strongly to the flavor.

Oude (‘Old’) Genever: The ‘old’ refers to traditional production methods rather than aging. This variety contains from 15-50% korenwijn, and can be sweetened with up to 20 gms sugar/liter. The result is a sweet, malty, rich spirit, typically with an oily texture.

Jonge (‘Young’) Genever: The ‘young’ indicates Genever made in the ‘new’ 20^th Century style – i.e. heavily cut with neutral alcohol. This variety contains no more than 15% korenwijn, and no more than 10 gm sugar per liter, making it lighter and drier than the Oude style. This style is closest to the familiar London Dry gin, though the maltiness and light use of aromatics set it apart.

Graanjenever (‘grain Genever’): This is Genever made from 100% grain alcohol. That is, the korenwijn is cut only with grain alcohol, meaning it contains no alcohol made from molasses, potato, or other non-grain ingredients. The grains used to produce the non-korenwijn distillate do not have to malted barley though, so graanjenever is distinct from korenwijn. In practice graanjever is likely to be made from corn or wheat, both of which are cheaper than malted barley. It may also include some malted barley. This type of Genever is generally column distilled. It resembles a more full bodied version of a Jonge Genever.

You may also come across the following terms:

Friesche Genever: So far as I can tell this is not a meaningful designation. It seems to just be an attractive sounding word that some producers slap on their products, not a true indicator of style.

Roggen: There also seem to be rye-based genevers known as ‘roggen’. These spirits may be more rye-based vodkas than Genever though. That is, they may not be flavored with botanicals. If anyone has more information on this please let me know.

There are probably some terms and classifications that I have missed. However, the above should at least provide a start in understanding Genever.

Thus endeth the lesson. . .

Genever Product Comparison
So, having learned about Genever, I guess it is finally time to drink some. I managed to collect four different varieties of Genever, including an oude (Bols), two jonge (Bokma and De Kuyper), and a graanjenever (Bokma). Sadly I could not get hold of a korenwijn. I had also been hoping to include the limited release Genevieve from Anchor Distilling. Unfortunately that was not possible because the product was never made available in New Zealand shops and the New Zealand agent did not want to provide a sample for this tasting. Never mind, collecting four brands for comparison was a pretty good effort given that Genever is not common in New Zealand.

The tasting involved 20 ml samples of each spirit, served at room temperature and in wine glasses. It was not a blind tasting. First the spirits were nosed and impressions recorded. Then they were tasted and impressions recorded. Finally they were cut with a teaspoon of water, tasted again, and impressions recorded. I did not try mixing the spirits into cocktails since I thought they were so obviously different that there was little point comparing them this way.

Bokma Jonge Graanjenever (35%)

Nose: Not too much on the nose besides alcohol. Smells similar to vodka, but differs in having a distinct hint of malt in the background. I cannot detect juniper or other aromatics.

Taste: Taste-wise this is fairly flat. It goes down almost like vodka, but there is a subtle bitterness and aromatic juniper flavor. It has some sweetness and a rich mouth feel. There was no aftertaste to speak of. Adding a teaspoon of water smoothed the flavor and highlighted the juniper. It became very smooth after that.

Overall impression: Not something to sip on, more something to down as a shot. In cocktail terms it could make a more interesting mixer than vodka, but it does not contribute enough flavor to be the backbone of a drink. Think of it more as a way of adding alcohol while contributing a little richness and complexity that would not be there if vodka was used. It is far milder in character than most gins. Still, it has a full bodied sweetness that London dry gins do not offer. I have used this in the past as a base for infusing Oolong tea; it works very well in this role.

Bokma Friesche Genever (38% alc/vol)

Nose: This has a delicate perfumed nose that you can keep on coming back to. At first I could not place the smell. It just reminded me of perfume that had been worn a little too long and begun to fade. Then I realized it was a subtle blend of citrus and a spice I cannot place. It almost seems like musk or something. I guess before doing a gin tasting I should have educated myself some more about spices. Juniper is there as well, but I keep coming back to this other botanical that is reminding me of perfume. Anyway, nosing this stuff is very pleasant and interesting.

Taste: A full bodied mouth-feel together with a dry flavor profile. There is a nice balance of malt, juniper, citrus, and other aromatics. You could not exactly sip this by the fireside like you might a glass of whiskey, but there is more than enough taste to make you want to linger over it. The aftertaste is gently bitter. Adding water brought out a peppery note.

Overall Impression: The dry and delicately balanced taste makes this ideal for drinking straight. However, it could also take center stage in a cocktail like a Martinez. It could work in a Genever Old Fashioned, though a more malty Genever would be better.

De Kuyper JDKZ Geneva (37.1%)

Nose: A perfumed nose that is more robust than the Bokma Friesche. The nose is a blend of citrus and sweet malt, with juniper in there as well. The delicate balance of the Bokma Friesche is lacking, but there is still plenty to appreciate.

Taste: This comes across smoothly. The citrus and malt are very up front, with the combination pleasantly resembling a chocolate orange. As you swallow you get a burst of juniper. There is not much of an aftertaste. It is not as subtle or balanced as the Bokma Friesch, but nevertheless is easy to like. Adding water reduced the citrus and made the drink a bit drier. The water also drew out a background note I did not especially care for – something like ammonia. This had been faintly present before, but the water made it obvious. For me this taste became an unpleasant distraction.

Overall Impression: This could be drunk by itself or used in a cocktail. It is robust enough for mixing and I like its heavy citrus character. However, I prefer the Bokma Freische for its better balance, and because it is free of that ‘ammonia’ taste. This one gets points for the crooked bottle design though. It is kind of cool.

Bols Genever Zeer Oude (35% alc/vol)

Nose: This has a rich aroma that is far more sweet than spicy. You can smell a rich layer of grains, laid on top of which are some spicier notes, primarily juniper.

Taste: A big rich flavor. There is a creamy mouth-feel with tons of malt, with some gentle juniper flavors making things interesting. Citrus does not make its presence felt in a big way. Adding water did little to change the intensity of flavor or the mouth-feel. The water brought out some new tastes though, revealing a hint of the ‘musky’ taste I had noticed in the Boka Friesche. There is gently bitter aftertaste, almost like gentian or something. It is very smooth with no unwelcome flavors or unpleasantness.

Overall Impression: This is great for sipping, and would make an ideal basis for traditional Genever cocktails like the Fancy Gin Cockail. Of the four spirits I have sampled, this would be the best starting point for somebody wanting to understand Genever. All the characteristics are present.

Some Concluding Thoughts

To round things up I want to say that the Oude style is really what Genever is about. If shopping for Genever you should try and start there. If you are lucky enough to find some korenwijn grab that too. The Jonge is nice, but has only some of the character of the Genever once popular in cocktails. Using the Jonge in traditional Genever cocktails is going to be like cutting the rye in your Manhattans 50/50 with vodka. You may get the idea of the drink but you will not get the real experience. Of course, since the Jonge is by far the most popular and easy to find style, you will probably end up experimenting with it anyway. Nothing wrong with that and it is still fun to play with.

In a future post I will look at some Genever cocktails.

* Thanks to Jared Brown of the Exposition Universelle des Vins et Spiritueux for straightening out this confusion.