Oh, that's weird. Inadvertently, we're immediately returning to the idea of how quickly I can get sick of a particular flavour of gin. Turns out, sloes don't bother me as much in consecutive slots as strawberries do with a week between them.
Is this an uncanny valley type thing? Like, give me a month between flavours and I'll have happily reset, and give me a day between flavours and I can determine the subtle distinctions between them. Stick 'em a week apart, and all I remember is my own review from the last time round.
Whatever the answer, this is sweeter than yesterday's sloe gin, and I appreciate the difference. After laughing maniacally at the deaths of doznes of berries, callously murdered so I could be faintly sarcastic about the aftertaste their broken, pulped bodies left in my mouth, I felt a tiny bit guilty. The sweetness of this gin lets me know the sloes got it. It's all good. It was a privilege for them to serve.
7/10
Dec 14th: Wilkin & Sons Rhubarb
This is a bit disappointing. I usually love rhubarb gin, but while you can definitely taste that flavour here, it's too far down in the mix. It's like you stirred a Gordons with a stick of rhubarb before tossing it away, mumbling about overdoses and poison and triangles. It's not bad, by any means, but it really should be better.
6/10
Dec 15th: The Lakes Sloe Gin Liqueur
Okay, this is maybe starting to feel a tiny bit lazy? Slow it down with all these sloes, I say, so very wittily.
I mean, it's not actually bad. I still can't tell the difference between a sloe gin and a sloe gin liqueur, but it tastes nice, and has a stronger mouthfeel than the last two sloe-related beverages.
I'm just starting to wonder whether it's been worth all the red juice on our hands.
7/10
Dec 16th: Edinburgh Gin Rhubarb And Ginger
I've had this before, I think? Not that it matters, because it's gorgeous. The rhubarb is just at the right height in the mix, slow-dancing with the juniper, rather than either cowering terrified in the corner of the disco or scaling the decks, demanding the DJ play a CD of their own mixes brought along from home. The ginger is more subtle, but lingers, warming you long after the initial burn of the alcohol has passed.
The perfect drink for winter, then. Or for people who don't hate pleasure. Either way.
9/10
Dec 17th: Sweet Potato Lavender Gin
DAMN. I know lavender gin isn't for everyone. I know some people feel like they're sucking on alcoholic Palma Violets. Those people are wrong and are to be pitied, obviously, but they don't have to worry in any case. This is far sweeter than you'd expect form a lavender gin, with the floral elements quite far down in the mix. You feel less like you've raided a lush's candy store, and more like a honey bee with a taste for cocktails.
And who could resist feeling like that?
9/10
Dec 18th: Mason's Dry Yorksihe Gin: Tea Edition
Gin and tea: not just a terrible pun. I should work in advertising. You know, except for having a soul.
ANYWAY. The taste of this gin. No idea why this works, but it does. The tea in this is ludicrously powerful - you can smell it in the shot before it's gotten anywhere near your lips. And I guess you need that cut through something as powerful as gin is. Whatever the alchemy involved, it tastes great, and further links the gin and tonic to its heritage in British India.
Which arguably just means this is just an artefact of British Imperialism flavoured with cultural appropriation but, y'know. Still fucking tasty.
8/10
No comments:
Post a Comment