Group test: 10 Old Tom gins compared

Some of the Old Tom gins we tasted, including a couple of homemade recreations

Many of us can’t help but be fascinated by Old Tom. What we know is that it is an older form of gin than the “London Dry Gin” style that most of us probably consider “normal” and which took over from about 1940. Cocktail books from the 1920s and 1930s will sometimes specify Old Tom gin as opposed to London gin or Plymouth gin, or indeed Holland(s) gin (i.e. genever).

But what did it taste like? In his cocktail book of 1930 “Jimmy” (“late of Ciro’s”) explains “the difference between Dry and Old Tom Gin is the same as between Dry and Sweet Ginger Ale, that is to say one is bitter and one is sweet. Plymouth Gin is half way between the two.” Mind you, Jimmy also says that grenadine is made from raspberries. (Who knows, perhaps it was then…)

A number of manufacturers are increasingly releasing Old Tom style gins, but there is plenty of dispute over what these should taste like. Some are simply sweetened with sugar, while Christian Jensen insists that this would have been too expensive at the time and that any perceived sweetness would have come from the botanical mix. (Others have argued that landlords may have sweetened gin on the premises, perhaps to ameliorate poor quality gin, and that it was therefore unlikely that the gin would have been sweetened by the manufacturer.) David Wondrich is of the opinion that Old Tom is a general term for something that would have evolved and diverged, fundamentally driven by the fact that before the introduction of the column still, capable of producing very pure “neutral” spirit, the base alcohol for early gins would have been crude and distinctly flavoured—indeed much of the botanical flavouring might have been there simply to try and make the spirit more palatable, as might any sweetening or deliberate ageing in wood (something which lies at the heart of whisky making). But the column still signalled a paradigm shift: masking of the base spirit flavour became unnecessary, botanicals could be used simply to add a desired flavour profile and gins became leaner. Genever, meanwhile, remained popular in the Netherlands, revelling in the malty taste of the “impurities” of the pot still alcohol itself.

Kamil looking pale after ten Old Toms

With the interests of the gin-drinking public always our prime concern, the Institute decided to round up all the modern Old Tom gins we could find—ten in total—and have a comparative tasting, both neat and in a classic cocktails. This wouldn’t really help prove what Old Tom did or should taste like: it was more about assessing what is on offer now. Joining us at Graphic was Desmond Payne, Master Distiller at Beefeater, plus Adam and Kamil from the bar. This is what we found (the marks out of ten are my own):

1. Both’s Old Tom Gin (47% ABV) Made in Germany, this spirit is intended as a reproduction of nineteenth-century Old Tom and sports a rather disturbing “flock” label featuring a cat. (One explanation for the name “Old Tom” comes from the story of Dudley Bradstreet, an exciseman who actually sold gin on the sly. On the outside wall of his house was a cat figure; the customer would put money in the cat’s mouth, at which gin was dispensed through a tube between the cat’s paws.) The nose is strongly of caraway and orange. That’s pretty much it, with the palate basically the same, with a middling sweetness. I rather like it, but then I like Akvavit. 8/10.

2. The Wondrich Method Wondrich’s own solution for recreating the taste of Old Tom is to blend modern gin with sugar and whisky. DBS made this sample using the roughest gin he could find, Richmond Gin. I can see the logic, but you’re unlikely to make a very nice concoction this way! This sample has a nose of orange and a bit of red berry; it’s a slightly dusty smell and rather synthetic like a perfumed hand-wipe. The taste is overwhelmingly sweet, again a bit berryish, and reminiscent of barley sugars. Not as noticeably malty as I would have expected, but I guess it depends on the proportions you use—DBS didn’t reveal his precise recipe. 3/10

3. Ransom Old Tom Gin (44% ABV) Made in Oregon—in consultation with Wondrich—this recreation goes down a very woody route, ageing the gin for 3–6 months in pinot noir barrels. Malted barley is used to give a whiskyish hint, combined with botanicals (juniper, orange peel, lemon peel, coriander seed, angelica root and cardamom) infused in corn spirit. The finished gin is a startling colour, looking more like whisky. The nose is strong and astringent, with heavy juniper grappling with orange and an underlying resinous hint like coal tar. Compared to the other samples this one was surprising also in that it was quite dry and austere, driven by pencil-lead juniper. 5/10

4. Secret Treasures Old Tom Style Gin, 2007 (40% ABV) Another German offering, part of Haromex’s Secret Treasures Collection, this sample was made in 2007. The nose is quite balanced between juniper, citrus, fennel and something slightly soapy, then finishing on vanilla and darker notes. There are interesting hints of cucumber skin and mushroom too. The palate is, like Ransom, surprisingly dry and, to me, disappointingly simplistic after that promising nose. Predominantly juniper/pine notes. 4/10

5. Wondrich Method (Oaked) Another batch cooked up by DBS following David Wondrich’s suggestion of adding whisky and sugar to London gin, but this time “oak aged” using whisky barrel wood chips in the bottle for 24 hours. As before this offering probably suffers from the poor quality of the base gin but the wood has smoothed it a bit. The nose is predominantly orange with a distinct butter undertow. The palate is still mostly about barley sugar; the oaking is subtle after only 24 hours but certainly not out of place, and adds a piney, resinous note. 3/10

6. Jensen’s Old Tom Gin (43% ABV) The nose has a soft, vegetal complexity, like ratatouille—sweet pepper and fennel, with darker, toasty wood notes, plus orange, lime and a sugary smell. This carries on to the palate but here there is also an odd character like the glue on envelopes, a sort of cellulose sweetness (if you’ve ever made the mistake of trying to use a kitchen paper towel as a makeshift filter for food or coffee you’ll know what I mean). There is a “thickness” to this gin, as if it were heavily sugared, even though Jensen’s principle is that it is the botanical mix that creates the sweetness rather than sugar. Having said that, it does not come across as particularly sweet. This gin is apparently based on a recipe from the 1840s. 6/10

7. Gin Xorigeur (38% ABV) An antediluvian curio, made on Menorca in the town of Mahon, where it was introduced by the British in the eighteenth century, and allegedly little changed since then. It is made from grape spirit, vapour-infused with the botanicals in a flavour box rather than macerating in the spirit, and aged in American oak barrels before bottling. Oddly, instead of producing a high ABV distillate which is then diluted for bottling, the liquid added to the still is actually a blend of spirit, wine and water, and what emerges is at bottling strength of 38%. In addition to juniper, citrus and fennel, it has a similar sawmill nose to Ransom, plus celery, something toasty, a sour spicy note and something akin to the inside of a rubber glove. The palate is dry, vinous and juniper-led, with celery and sweet pepper. It is perfumed and spiritous, rather than full-bodied (possibly because the botanicals are not macerated), finishing on juniper again. Desmond was clearly quite struck by this one and felt it probably came closest to historical Old Tom. 6/10

8. The Dorchester Old Tom, 2007 (40% ABV) Only available at the Dorchester Hotel, for whom it is made by William Grant (who also make Hendrick’s) so their barmen can make classic cocktails that call for Old Tom. The nose is big: lots of orange and (perhaps unsurprisingly, given the Hendrick’s connection) masses of rose, plus woody spice—cinnamon, or perhaps sandalwood or even camphor wood. The palate is heavy and seductive with any perceived sweetness coming from rose. Add water and an aroma of tonic water emerges, presumably from citrus notes coming out. 8.5/10

9. Hayman’s Old Tom Gin (40% ABV) Made allegedly to an ancestral recipe of James Borough, ancestor of Christopher Hayman, the current Master Distiller. The nose is strongly of orange, almost like curaçao, plus juniper and a little chocolate. The palate, to me, is rather middle-of-the road, with the usual juniper and citrus, plus a lot of added sugar. Doesn’t do much for me. 5/10

10. Artesian Bar Old Tom, The Langham Hotel This is made specially at the hotel by blending two gins, adding some nuts and then wood ageing it. It does indeed smell of hazelnuts but also something sour, suggesting the dryness of walnuts too. Plus a bit of wood and bran—like opening a packet of bran flakes. It tastes a little of tea and hazelnuts. And a bit like bran flakes. 5/10

As a group we all agreed the Dorchester Old Tom was the nicest. For me the other stand-out gin was the Both’s; it came third in our overall rankings as a group, with the Xorigeur in second place. Hayman’s came fourth and the Langham gin fifth.

Martinez Cocktails made with (left to right) Xoriguer, Dorchester and Both's

We then tried the top three in three classic Old Tom cocktails:

Collins (gin, lemon juice, sugar and soda water) With the Both’s elements of fennel and violets come out; with the Dorchester it’s lemon and lime. Made with Xoriguer that pine flavour comes through, reminiscent of Retsina.

Martinez (gin, red vermouth, maraschino, Angostura bitters) The sweetness level of Both’s balances well for me and brings out the complex flavours, whereas the Dorchester here seems too sweet and fruity. The Retsina quality of the Xoriguer works surprisingly harmoniously with the aromatic elements of the vermouth and the bitters.

Old Tom Cocktail (gin, sugar, orange bitters) Here again I think the Xoriguer actually works best, with the astringent, woody, aromatic character balancing with the sweetness of the recipe. Both’s is pretty good, with the drink again bringing out a floral, violet character that I didn’t really notice neat. But overall this cocktail is too sweet for me, I suspect.

While satisfyingly thorough, I admit that this experiment doesn’t really get you very far: my two favourites are both largely unobtainable! I wasn’t so taken with the Xoriguer as some, but I know David later experimented with sweetening it and ageing it with wood chips to try and approach what he feels historical Old Tom would have been like. Of course there are clearly as many approaches to creating an Old Tom as there are products, and doubtless more besides. Personally I feel a product that is simply a sweeter gin is a bit pointless when you can simply sweeten an ordinary gin. I’m more interested in recipes that offer a different and more intense botanical mix. As I mentioned before, my curiosity was piqued when I heard that Prohibition gin is based on a nineteenth-century recipe: yet its maker thinks of it more as a New Western rather than an Old Tom. New Western gins in classic London gin cocktails often taste rather peculiar to me, but this got me thinking that experimenting with New Westerns in place of Old Toms in classic cocktail recipes might prove fruitful. I shall report back…

Lemon Distillate

The Juniper Society & Lemon Distillate

Last Monday, Mrs. B, Hartley and I attended The Beefeater Gin Juniper Society at Graphic Bar in Golden Square, Soho. For the first half of the evening we enjoyed tutored tasting of three Beefeater Gins, led Master Distiller Desmond Payne. After a brief break to pick up refreshment (Gin & Tonic) we took part in a cocktail competition using a variety of tea syrups and infusions to make cocktails; this picked up on the tea elements of Beefeater 24.

In addition to the events of the evening I was also given a wax-sealed bottle from the industrious Gin Blog. I was told, in a whisper, that it was a sample bottle of Lemon Distillate. I'm not sure what high jinx the folks at The Gin Blog are planning but I have a shrewd idea they want to/are making a gin.

How exactly is it made? Carterhead or Pot still—it's all mysterious. Even the exact ABV was a matter of intrigue.

But how does it taste?

Own: nose of lemon rind and almond. Silky initially with some warmth; lemon, with touch of pear. Quite dry amaretti and lemon on the finish.When I added some water I noticed the gin began to louche (see picture) this is not unlike one of the distillates of Hendricks Gin.

From Freezer: becomes more like vodka, there is still some lemon but subtle almond has gone.

With Ginger Ale: (2:1 ratio) turns ginger ale slightly cloudy, looks like ginger beer. A nice burst of lemon and the nutty elements of the distillate go nicely with the ginger. An alternative to a gin buck and a good one at that.

HOT!: (Hot water and a teaspoon of honey added) and interesting warmer, without the sharpness of a normal hot toddy,the lemon flavours that are there go well with the honey and on a cold day like today it's perfect.

Thank you to The Gin Blog for providing me with a sample and I'll looking forward to future developments.

Juniper Society March:

14th Gin Mare

28th Bols

G & Tea?

Beefeater 24's bottle looks like it belongs
among the Crown Jewels

Can booze and tea sit happily in the same glass? Oh yes.

You have to feel sorry for Desmond Payne. He’s a master distiller (formerly at Plymouth, now at Beefeater) who’s been at it for 43 years—but always charged with distilling to other people’s recipes. He lives with a portrait of James Burroughs, the Beefeater founder who developed the formula 150 years ago, glaring down at him from the wall.

Finally he was asked to make his own gin, a special edition that would end up dubbed Beefeater 24, and DBS and I were present at 69 Colebrooke Row for a celebration of it a few weeks ago. (Mind you, I notice that it isn’t so much his own gin as his own “expression” of the Beefeater house style. Always the bridesmaid…)

I’d heard a story that the “24” in the name referred to there being 24 different botanicals, but this turned out to be codswallop: the gin has 12. “But it is not about how many botanicals you have or how exotic they are,” says Desmond. “It is about how they work together. Getting the right balance is crucial.” In fact the “24”  refers to the 24 hours for which the botanicals are left to soak in the base spirit before the whole soup is redistilled into glorious gin. Mind you, the 24-hour maceration is common to all Beefeater gin*—so what makes Beefeater 24 different?

Desmond explained that he at first tried a host of likely botanicals, but without success. While he was in Japan he craved a G&T—but quinine was not allowed, apparently, so no tonic water. Seeking a similar dry, sharp hit, he tried iced lemon tea—and was inspired to try using tea as the direction for Beefeater 24. What could be more English, as English as gin? He found that green tea worked best as it imparted the aromatic elements he wanted but without an overwhelming amount of tannin. But the presence of the tea also changed the relationships of the other botanicals—back to the importance of balance again—so a lot of tweaking was required.

The raven lurking on the inside of the label

Finally he had an end result ready for testing by a panel of esteemed mixologists: people liked it—but didn’t really pick up on the tea. So he went back to the lab and added Japanese Sencha tea with a fresh, green, slightly seaweed quality, that brought out the top notes. He was afraid that his tea dose would oxidise during the regulation 24 hour steeping, but was relieved to find that the alcohol preserved it. (Round about this time he discovered that James Burroughs’ father had actually been a tea merchant with a Royal Warrant—would Burroughs have approved of Payne’s new direction all along?)

When a batch of gin—or the mixture of spirit and steeping botanicals that will become gin—is distilled, different elements of the flavour emerge in a certain order: the distillery will actually smell different at different times of the day. In practice the citrus notes come out first, then juniper, then coriander. With Desmond’s tea injection he found that the high aromatic notes emerged at the very beginning while the tannic elements arose after the juniper. It’s normal for distillers to discard the very first and last distillate from a batch, but Desmond ended up making a “cut” that was particularly picky—in fact he discards some 30% of the juice that comes out of the still.

So what does it taste like? You can immediately tell how careful Desmond was to stay within the Beefeater house style, which I always think of as rather ethereal in its construction, with a delicacy that makes me think of quiet civil servants in wood-panelled rooms, as opposed to some of the two-fisted gins strutting on to the market now. Yet there is a subtle tea perfume here too joining the orange notes in the midrange, and a smoky element, but much more delicate that simply adding a peaty whisky rinse to your glass as in some “Smoky Martini” cocktails.

The Earl Grey Martini knocked up for us at Purl

The bottle in which Beefeater 24 is clad has had just as much thought and attention lavished on it. The patterns in the glass are taken from Royal Doulton ceramic designs: back in the day the distillery, like most, also produced a range of liqueurs and these were bottled in just such ceramic containers. The distinctive red punt is a nod to the Crown Jewels (this is Beefeater gin, remember) and if you look through the “window” in the bottom left corner on the back you can see a raven printed on the inside of the front label. The legend goes that if the Tower of London’s resident ravens ever leave, the kingdom will fall. “So if you finish the bottle,” Desmond adds, “put the cap back on so the raven can’t escape.”

By interesting synchronicity, the idea of tea in booze seems to have cropped up quite a bit of late. At Purl a few weeks ago I came across their dry Martini served with an Earl Grey “air” (foam to you and me, though I gather there is a technical difference). This sits on the surface of the drink—looking rather as if the glass has just been washed up and not rinsed properly—and is actually one of the more convincing examples, in my opinion, of how molecular mixology can work. The tea flavour is all encapsulated in the foam: you hit it as you go in, but then strike crystalline Martini underneath, and the two elements are not just mixed all together. On a plate of food this separation of flavour elements is normal enough but it’s quite an achievement in a drink.

Two of David's homemade tea liqueurs

And of course how can we ignore Mr Bridgman-Smith’s recent experiments making his own tea liqueurs? I’ve tasted his lapsang souchong and his English Breakfast and I was mightily impressed. Homemade infusions have a tendency to fall into the “interesting, but…” category but I think he could convincingly bottle these and sell them at a farmer’s market somewhere. But the most interesting potential must be as a cocktail ingredient; at Graphic recently barman Adam took up the challenge and invented a smoky brew we dubbed the Fag Hag:

A Fag Hag cocktail

Fag Hag
30ml gin

20ml lemon juice

15ml lapsang souchong liqueur

10ml sugar syrup

20ml egg white

Dry shake the ingredients first to bind, then add ice, shake and strain into a glass.

You could probably achieve a similar effect using strong, cold tea and a little extra syrup.

Beefeater 24 is about £23 (or £29 if you buy it over the counter at Harrods)


* Beefeater claim that this 24-hour maceration is unique to them, but Hayman’s say their gin steeps for 24 hours, so do Berry Bros. and Rudd of their No.3 gin, Park Place about their SW4, and I have a feeling I’ve heard it about others too.