Pickering's Gin, 1947 Gin and Navy Strength Gin

Back in December I reviewed the Brussels Sprout gin made by Pickering’s of Summerhall in Edinburgh. We’d stumbled across it while visiting friends during festival season, spending our days in damp basements that had become “venues” for three weeks. Although I ultimately can’t recommend the sproutwater, the basic Pickering’s gin was very agreeable.

I noted that in addition to their main gin they also did a “1947” edition, and now they have a navy strength too. So I decided to do a “horizontal flight” comparison.

The story goes that Marcus Pickering and Matt Gammell decided to start a distillery and make gin after Marcus inherited a gin recipe from a friend of his late father. Like many new gin-makers they had no experience of distilling, but unlike many they actually built theirs. They mention that their various previous business ventures together have revolved around, among other things, engineering, and the pair clearly love to make eye-catching promotional things. Things such as a pop-up tasting bar that folds out of a vintage trunk, a modified Japanese airport fire engine that dispenses cocktails from tanks through hoses, and a mechanical Martini mixer adapted from a wind-up gramophone and some 1960s chemistry equipment (which, as far as I can tell, can still play 78s). So far so Steampunk—Hendrick’s had better watch out. (Although one could observe that the Pickering’s creations are all actually functional, rather than just visual whimsy. In the words of Sir Reginald Pikedevant, “Just glue some gears on it and call it Steampunk”…) 

The Pickering's mechanical Martini mixer

The actual recipe, allegedly from a document handwritten in Bombay in 1947, was “full of fragrant spices and fresh citrus fruits”, evidently quite punchy, while the 21st-century Pickering’s people decided modern punters wanted something softer and smoother, so they tweaked the recipe. They also use a bain marie heating system for the still (rather than direct heat) which they feel coaxes out the soft, subtle flavours. The botanicals in the main gin are juniper, coriander, cardamom, angelica, fennel, anise, lemon, lime and cloves. The 1947 edition, which, as its name suggests, is “made precisely to the original recipe”, adds cinnamon. Pickering’s Navy Strength Gin is, as far as I can tell, the same as the main recipe but bottled at 57.1% ABV. You also can’t help but notice that it proudly sports a military bearskin, to mark its becoming the official gin of the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo.

Now I’ll be honest that I was surprised to read that the basic Pickering’s gin actually has no cinnamon in it. Tasting it again for this comparison, I opened the bottle and got a pleasing spike of juniper, followed by a creamy orange citrus character plus sharp lime and lemon notes, something floral and a warm, middly, woody note that I might have guessed was from cinnamon. Apparently not. Swirling it in a glass I get some caramel and mint too—though I suspect that herbal impression may be from the fennel. All of the above appear on the palate, making an immediately balanced impression. It is smooth and almost chocolatey, but still with the juniper backbone. But I could swear I’m getting cinnamon too. While it is the juniper that greets you, I would characterise this gin as being warm, smooth and spicy, rather than lean, fresh, crisp and dry.

In a Martini it retains this character, rich, smooth and perfumed. In fact if you like your Martini stern, airy and crystalline, you may consider this gin a bit wallowy. Oddly, in a Negroni the juniper comes out more. It’s a punchy but balanced example of the cocktail, bitter-sweet but smooth.

Given that the basic Pickering’s struck me as warmly spiced, I did laugh a bit when I first opened the 1947. It just seemed a bit bonkers to make another gin that was even more dominated by these elements. To me it is less well balanced, without the juniper structure that I personally require in a gin and more of those herbal notes, in addition to cinnamon. On the palate you can find juniper but it is sort of lurking in the background.

Given that I thought the normal gin made a warm, dark Martini, you won’t be surprised to hear that a 1947 Martini is rather on the muddy side. In a Negroni you still get a warm, spicy, bitter-sweet drink, and in fact you can find the juniper if you dig, but it doesn’t rise up to offer the effortless but complex triumvirate of a classic Negroni.

The fact that the 1947 formula seemed to play up the herbal elements (which I first interpreted as mint but which in fact must be fennel) reminded me of absinthe and made me wonder if this gin might work best in drinks that included absinthe. The Corpse Reviver No.2* sprang to mind and I have to say that it’s actually rather an intriguing triumph in itself, with the fennel and anise obviously sitting comfortably alongside the absinthe and the lemon and lime flavours marrying with the lemon juice and triple sec. But of course, lacking juniper, it’s not your classic Corpse Reviver.

If there were any doubt which version of the gin goes to make the Navy Strength it would be dispelled with one whiff of the majestic juniper fumes that come from the open bottle. It’s an immensely appealing aroma (if you like gin, and ginny gin at that). It’s remarkably smooth and drinkable despite its high strength. 

A Gimlet made with Pickering's

For scientific purposes I made a Negroni with it, and unsurprisingly it tastes like a Negroni made with the normal Pickering’s gin but on steroids. Using the standard equal proportions it’s a bit unbalanced, to be honest; you could just use less of the gin, but you might as well just use the regular-strength gin. In a Martini, this gin comes into its own, creating a powerful concoction, clearly a classic, juniper-driven Martini, but complex and evolving on the tongue. I was using Belsazar Dry vermouth, and its herbal strands intertwined voluptuously with those fennel and anise notes in the gin. Needless to say, a normal-sized Martini made with the navy strength will tend to make you squiffy.

Thinking about the citrus elements, I also tried a Gimlet. Classically this is a blend of gin and lime cordial,** though some prefer to make it with fresh lime juice and sugar syrup, which is nice but not the same. (Others suggest making a lime syrup by adding lime juice and zest while making sugar syrup, though I have not tried this.) I’m pleased to report it works very well. Again, the softness of the gin combined with the sugar in the cordial makes for a smooth, approachable drink. As before, I prefer the more prominent juniper from the regular Pickering’s but if you’re not that keen on that element then a Gimlet made with the 1947 gin will make a rich, complex, spicy, citrussy glass of happiness.

Pickering’s gins can be had for about £26 a bottle from various outlets, but if you buy direct from Pickering’s themselves you can currently buy a full litre for £28.

* Equal parts gin, lemon juice, triple sec and originally Kina Lillet—Cocchi Americano is a good modern-day substitute—plus a smidgeon of absinthe.

** The proportions are moot. Some say equal parts, but I think that makes for a cloying and tooth-curling sweetness. Perhaps start at 2:1 or 3:1 and see what you think. 

Is there a "Scottish" gin style?

The gang gather at Graphic in London's Golden Square

It hadn’t escaped DBS that there were an increasing number of gins coming out of Scotland these days, joining the juggernaut that is Hendrick’s, made by William Grant of whisky-making distinction (for more on that gin, see our previous review). So last week a posse of ginthusiasts assembled at Graphic for a blind tasting of some dozen spirits that were linked only by the fact that they are all made north of the border. You could argue (and some did) that “Scottish gin” is not a recognised style—although this is something David wanted to put to the test. But even if it is not, comparative tastings usually shed some useful light.

So to cut to the chase, here are my notes (bearing in mind that at the time we did not know what the samples were). Each gin was sampled on its own and with tonic (and sometimes just with water).

1. Old Raj Red (46%) Notwithstanding the blindness of the tasting, this was immediately recognisable as one of the two Old Raj samples, because of its colour—faintly yellow, as a result of the saffron that is infused post-distillation (by the company chairman himself, apparently). It had a sweet, fruity nose with a hint of blackcurrant, it seemed, and a silky mouthfeel. A classy heft to it. Made a pretty well balanced G&T (though for my money the best use of Old Raj is in a Martini).

2. Edinburgh A nettly, slightly pungent nose with perhaps a hint of smoky rubber. The palate was dry but with a definite hint of banana. It worked better in a G&T but still there was that banana element, which I didn’t like at all. Bit sweet.

3. Cadenhead Classic More juniper-led than perhaps any of the others; quite traditional in its come-on. Has an underlying perfume but also a hint of allium, or something else savoury. The palate is dry but with a “dry sugar” botanical flavour. Marries very well with tonic in a classic way. A classy example of a conventional conception of gin.

The blind samples in their numbered bottles

4. Hendrick’s 41.4% Nose seems dominated by citrus, orange in particular, with a sweetish palate. [Odd that I wasn’t struck by rose or cucumber, the signature botanicals of Hendrick’s.]

5. Caorunn May be my imagination but it seems almost to have a greenish tint to it. Pencil juniper on the nose, then citrus, then coriander, then a warm bottom note, more or less in that order. The palate is fairly balanced but a bit sweet, and with an interesting aftertaste, the sweetness joined by a lingering vegetal flavour. Quite fiery too, despite that sweetness. Add tonic, though, and it falls apart slightly, actually becomes a bit crude.

6. Hendrick’s 44% Nose of citrus but also something sappy and herbal. Hint of coal tar. Palate is balanced; smooth but not over-sweet. Nice orange/aromatic finish.

7. The Botanist The nose is a bit like a less subtle version of No.6. Has a definite “green” note. Palate seems a bit flat. With tonic it seems a bit crude and heavy-handed compared to some of the others.

8. Boe A dry, herbaceous nose of thyme or lavender, and a light, balanced palate showing poise. Add tonic and citrus emerges. Quite interesting though I suspect the floral/lavender element might get a bit cloying to me after a while.

9. Old Raj Blue (55%) Yellowish, so clearly the other Old Raj. A bit hard to get a handle on neat, because the high strength keeps some of the flavour elements bottled, but with tonic it becomes smooth, floral and perfumed, with a bit of ginger.

10. Darnley’s View A floral nose but just edging towards rancid plasticene. A fruity palate but surprisingly dry after that overmellow flowery nose.

11. Hammer A dry nose led by juniper and orange. Palate is dry too but quite balanced, though ultimately rather low key; which is perhaps the idea. [This isn’t a Scottish gin at all—it’s made in Norway—but David included it as a sort of control or touchstone, because it sells itself as a London Dry Gin; but I wasn’t struck by its standing out from the overwhelming “Scottishness” of the other samples. In fact for me the one that stood out as a more classic style was Cadenhead Classic.]

12. Blackwood’s, 2008 A nose or spearmint chews and lemon and lime. Light and dry on the palate with a pleasant lemony aromatic quality. As a G&T it works rather well, the lean, lemon notes sitting comfortably with similar qualities in the tonic water.

My favourites? Knowing what Nos 1 and 9 were, and therefore lumping them together, I would say that my top three were 1/9, 3 and 6, which is to say Old Raj (in both formulations), Cadenhead Classic and Hendrick’s 44%. It’s hard to say what order I’d put them in but probably the Old Raj (made by Cadenhead) and the Cadenhead Classic would vie for top spot—meaning that the Cadenhead distillery is probably where I should go and live.

Overall as a group we voted Hendricks 44% into first place, followed by Old Raj Blue (55%) in second, Hendrick’s 41.4% in third, Old Raj Red (46%) in fourth and Cadenhead Classic in fifth, which is broadly consistent with my own conclusions.

GOLD MEDAL
Hendrick's (US export, 44%)

SILVER MEDAL
Old Raj Blue (55%)

BRONZE MEDAL
Hendrick's (UK version, 41.4%)


Is there a “Scottish style”? Some of the gins play on their Scottishness in terms of presentation and ingredients—many include heather, The Botanist includes a whopping 31 botanicals all of which grow naturally on the island of Islay where it is made, and Blackwood’s make a big deal of how their botanicals are hand-picked on Shetland in a particular season (though don’t actually state that all the botanicals come from there, any more than all the Botanist ones come from Islay). But it’s telling that our top five in the blind tasting don’t really fall into that category: the Cadenhead gins are fairly classic (with the saffron being not very Scottish at all) while Hendrick’s key ingredients are rose essence from Bulgaria and cucumber essence from the Netherlands.