The Gin & Tonic has probably has the richest history of any gin beverage. Tonic water’s history in Europe dates back to the 1600’s, but it has been in use far longer by the Quechua Indians of Peru. The unique flavor of tonic water comes from quinine, which the Indians derived from the bark of the cinchona tree, or “quina”.  It has been used as medicinal “tonic” to relieve the symptoms of malaria and alleviate shivering in cold temperatures. Some believe it can help restless leg syndrome, leg cramps and other problems because it acts as a muscle relaxant.

Today’s commercial tonic water is only a distant, sweet “lite” version of the original. In the United States, this quinine-less flavor arises from the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) limits for tonic water content to be less than 83 parts per million. That’s for good reason. Health benefits aside, quinine at medical concentrations has plenty of side effects, from cardiac arrhythmia, Cinchonism and other risks from overdose. Consult the FDA summary for more information. Therefore, if you dare to explore this “how to make tonic water” post, be careful that your concentration of quinine is not too strong and check with your friendly neighborhood chemist to confirm it. Legalese: Don’t blame us if you get sick.

Nevertheless, homemade tonic water is delightful – much more flavorful than the processed dreck that most purveyors sell (Q Tonic, Fentimans and John’s Premium Tonic Syrup are notable exceptions). Many interesting recipes on the web (such as here, here and here), include exotic ingredients like saffron, lemongrass and allspice that only distract from the taste of a gin – even though they may be fine beverages to help rescue a vodka and tonic from inadequacy. After skillful research, many catastrophes in the Wired Gin labs – as well as some delightful tastings – here is how to make the best homemade tonic water in the world:

The Ultimate Tonic Water

• A scant 1/4 cup of Cinchona Bark
• One quart (four cups) of water
• Juice and zest of two limes (or lemons if you want a brighter “right of the pond” taste)
• 1/4 cup of Citric Acid (also known as sour salt at some local grocers)
• 1/4 teaspoon sea salt
• 1 3/4 cups cane sugar
• Sparkling water, such as from a Sodastream, an iSi Soda Siphon or just club soda purchased from your local grocer

In a small pot, boil the water with the cinchona bark and lime juice at a low simmer for 30 to 45 minutes. Filter the resulting “tea” through a coffee filter to remove the debris from the cinchona bark and lime zest. While the liquid is still hot, add the sugar, salt and citric acid and stir vigorously. Cool the syrup in your refrigerator.

You’re almost there!

After the syrup has cooled, if you want to try plain tonic water,  add 1 part syrup to 2 to 3 parts sparkling water to taste. You’ve just created the most elegant, woodsy and deep-flavored tonic water. Ever. But, as British officers knew 150 years ago, this beverage needs gin! Experience this version, then move on to the recipe below.

To make the perfect homemade gin & tonic, start with a hearty gin such as Junipero or Tanquaray Classic. Into your favorite gin & tonic glass pour:

• 2 parts gin
• 1 part tonic water syrup
• 3-4 parts sparkling water

Drop a few ice cubes into your glass, admire the unique amber color of your beverage and quaff with delight.

Many insightful people have posted tonic water recipes with far more exotic ingredients (here, here and here), including saffron, lemongrass and coriander. Ugh. These only cover up the creativity of the gin maker! Gin has so many botanicals, so why pollute its flavor?  If you buy bad gin (or even worse, vodka), these recipes may be helpful. However, try this recipe with a good gin and your taste buds will fly!

Please comment if you’ve had a chance to make this tonic and have ideas to bring it closer to gin perfection!

In the recent article Gin Time, Cheers Magazine reports on the increasing popularity of gin, attributing it to a combination of classic cocktails and the rise of New Western gins like Bluecoat, Beefeater 24 and Aviation.  They have it half right. Classic cocktails are the foundation of gin’s rise in popularity. Interest in all the classics like the Negroni, Pimms Cup and, of course the martini, have all contributed to gin’s recent popularity.

However, excellent cocktails demand a flavorful gin, and the focus on New Western gins is misguided. A martini without the woodsy elegance of juniper is disappointing at the least, and evolves into flavored vodka at the worst. Juniper defines gin. Distillers can play with the botanicals around the juniper to create innovative new gins. However, the less juniper you have, the less gin you have. New Western gins can function as “starter gins” for the fearful. However, gin needs juniper and, as the article states, “juniper-forward gin brands continue to lead the gin category.”

Gin’s rich history and cultural impact has graced us with many memorable quotes. Here is a collection of my favorites, best enjoyed with an Upside Down Martini, in memory of Julia Child.

[My longevity is because of] .. red meat and gin. - Julia Child

A good heavy book holds you down. It’s an anchor that keeps you from getting up and having another gin and tonic. – Roy Blount Jr.

The proper union of gin and vermouth is a great and sudden glory; it is one of the happiest marriages on earth, and one of the shortest lived. – Bernard DeVoto

Zen martini:  A martini with no vermouth at all.  And no gin, either. – P.J. O’Rourke

I’ll stick with gin.  Champagne is just ginger ale that knows somebody. - Alan Alda as Hawkeye in M*A*S*H, episode “Ceasefire”

And the sooner the tea’s out of the way, the sooner we can get out the gin, eh? - Henry Reed

[Gin has produced] … a drunken ungovernable set of people. – Thomas Wilson

Gin was mother’s milk to her. - George Bernard Shaw

Gin by pailfuls, wine in rivers, Dash the window-glass to shivers! For three wild lads were we, brave boys, And three wild lads were we; Thou on the land, and I on the sand, And Jack on the gallows-tree! - Sir Walter Scott

I exercise strong self control. I never drink anything stronger than gin before breakfast. – W.C. Fields

Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine. – Humphrey Bogart as Rick in Casablanca

First, the last month’s release of the movie Julie and Julia showcases the cocktail’s creator and advocate, Julia Child.  I’ve always appreciated the fact that she attributed her longevity to “red meat and gin”.  Despite her perceived benefits of gin, vermouth was a far more popular ingredient in her recipes. The Upside Down Martini – with far more vermouth than gin – is naturally her cocktail of choice.

As the New York Times recently noted, the other big event is that Julia’s favorite vermouth, Noilly Prat, are returned to selling its original European recipe in the United States. The availability of this arguably richer vermouth means that we can now easily enjoy an Upside-Down Martini in the original form that Julia enjoyed. The recipe is quite simply:

5 parts dry vermouth (Noilly Prat is ideal)
1 part gin sweet vermouth
Lemon twist for garnish

Pour vermouth into a wine glass filled with ice, top with gin and garnish with lemon twist.

Smuggle into the theater and enjoy the next showing of Julie and Julia from a new perspective.

1. Stellar Apple

Speaking of Stellar, Stellar Gin recommends this seasonally appropriate version of Gin & Juice:

   1½ ounces Stellar Gin
   3 ounces apple juice
   Squeeze of lemon juice
   1 apple slice (red or green), for garnish

Fill a cocktail shaker two-thirds full of ice and add the ingredients. Shake for approximately 15 seconds, strain into a chilled cocktail glass, and add the garnish.

2. Satan’s Whiskers

Eric Felton recently extolled the virtues of Satan’s Whiskers in a recent Wall Street Journal column Halloween Cocktails Needn’t Be Frightful. Here’s his excellent recipe:

   ½ oz gin
   ½ oz dry vermouth
   ½ oz sweet vermouth
   ½ oz freshly squeezed orange juice (blood oranges preferred, of course)
   ½ oz Grand Marnier
   1 dash orange bitters

Stir with ice until bitingly cold and then strain into a stemmed cocktail glass. Garnish with orange twist. For a variation, substitute Cointreau Noir for the Grand Marnier.

3. Negroni

With a reddish color to match the falling leaves, the Negroni is the classic cocktail of choice for the cool fall evenings:

1 oz gin
1 oz sweet vermouth
1 oz Campari

Fill a cocktail shaker two-thirds full of ice and add the ingredients. Shake for approximately 15 seconds, strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a slice of orange.

4. Maple Gin Fizz

As described earlier this year at SlashFood, Jason Neu created the Maple Gin Fizz, which feels like an invitation to winter with its robust amaretto and maple flavors.  A cockle-warming delight!

   2 ounces gin
   ½ ounce amaretto
   ½ ounce cream
   1 egg white
   ½ ounce pure maple syrup
   1 ounce lemon juice
   Seltzer

Shake all ingredients except seltzer with ice for at least one minute. Strain into a champagne flute and top with a splash of seltzer.

5. Thanksgiving Cocktail

This recipe has many variations, but we believe this version is just the thing to get you in the turkey mood. 

   1 oz gin
   ½ ounce dry vermouth
   ½ ounce apricot brandy
   ½ teaspoon creme de cassis
   ½ teaspoon lemon juice

Fill a cocktail shaker two-thirds full of ice and add the ingredients. Shake for approximately 15 seconds, strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a cherry.

The martini is probably the offspring from the wrong side of the sheets of two older drinks, the Martinez (named for Martinez, California) and the Manhattan.  A sweet drink for its time, the Martinez used sweet vermouth instead of dry, maraschino liqueur, and Old Tom gin; the Manhattan uses whiskey and vermouth in a 4:1 ratio and a dash of bitters.  The melding of the two sometime in the last couple decades of the nineteenth century gave way to a sweetish gin drink built to the Manhattan’s proportions, one which became less sweet when dry vermouth was adopted instead.

The drink probably takes its name from Martini & Rossi vermouth, which in most of the world is branded simply as Martini.  The classic martini is gin and dry vermouth, stirred in a shaker of ice and strained into a cocktail glass.  The proportion of gin to vermouth varies — classically it ranged from 2:1 to 6:1, and there is a good drink to be had in the “Fifty-Fifty,” which is half of each.  Although everyone’s heard “shaken, not stirred,” remember that the reason 007 has to state his preference is because that’s not the standard way to make a gin drink, which is typically stirred; many people believe shaking bruises the gin.

The penchant for exceptionally dry martinis was, in hindsight, part of the 20th century trend of dismantling the martini entirely.  First, martini lore began to minimize the vermouth while ritualizing the drink itself, calling for a wet vermouth cork to be rubbed along the rim of the glass, or for the unopened bottle of vermouth to simply be displayed to the martini.  Atomizers are still available for spritzing the glass with just enough vermouth to coat it.  This results in a drink that is little more than cold gin — which, while a good way to enjoy the right gin, is just not the same thing.

Next came the vodka martini.  Vodka gained popularity in the 1950s and 1960s, and its sales were soon boosted by the public preference for sweet drinks; since the law requires unflavored vodka to be tasteless, it’s the ideal ingredient for adding alcohol without flavor.  That makes it remarkably poor for a dry martini, and in fact the vodka-and-vermouth drink already existed in the form of the Kangaroo.  But vodka producers, seeking to establish in-roads in the American market, latched onto the popularity of the martini in order to hawk their wares.

On rare occasion, something may be substituted for the vermouth.  Lillet Blanc is a common example — both vermouth and lillet are fortified white wines, though that’s like saying both Riesling and Pinot Grigio are white wines: they’re similar but not synonymous.  James Bond’s famous Vesper martini, introduced in Casino Royale, uses both gin and vodka (3:1) and a measure of Kina Lillet, which is no longer produced but included quinine as an ingredient.  Quinine is the same bitter root that gives tonic water its bite, so it’s no surprise 007 enjoyed it with gin.

In the classic era of cocktails, the smallest change to a drink led to a different name, and so some near-martinis are christened accordingly.  The Gibson, probably named for Charles Gibson (the illustrator whose “Gibson girls” were the height of glamor at the turn of the 20th century), uses a cocktail onion as its garnish, instead of an olive.  A dirty martini splashes some of the olive brine in with the olive, while a Hendrick’s martini — made with Hendrick’s gin, which includes cucumber peel in its botanicals — is served very dry, garnished with translucently thin slices of fresh, cold, English cucumber.  If you’re trying a new gin, especially one that prides itself on its botanicals, you may not want the distraction of the olive — a lemon twist may do, or no garnish at all.  I’m fond of a peppadew — a sweet-hot South African pepper about the size of an olive — in a wet martini with a bright gin like Citadelle.

The original martini called for a dash of orange bitters.  Unlike Angostura and Peychaud’s, orange bitters are harder to come by these days — but several brands do exist, and Angostura’s own orange bitters premiered in stores in mid-2007.  Bitters provide an accent, like seasoning your food; the difference between a martini with and a martini without is not profound, but it is noticeable.

The full article can be found here.

The Italians have always appreciated bitterness, from broccoli raab to radicchio to Sardinia’s corbezzolo honey, which has a tawny caramel sweetness but finishes as bitter as crushed aspirin. Italy is home to a number of bitter liqueurs, often called amari or aperitif bitters, and of those, the one best known outside the country is Campari. Made from the same recipe since 1860 and — like so many of those old herbal liqueurs — using more than 60 ingredients that the boom in the spice trade had made available, Campari is a tempting deep candy-red, and would be sweet enough to drink straight if you could handle the bitterness. Most people can’t when they’re first introduced to it — it’s a drink with a learning curve. Give Campari four tries and you may go from aversion to obsession.

Most of the first Americans to discover Campari were G.I.s sent to Italy in WWI, but it was the Lost Generation — Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and their gang — who first encountered the Negroni, invented in 1919 in honor of gin-lover Count Camillio Negroni. A simple-sounding drink, the Negroni is equal parts gin, Campari, and sweet vermouth, stirred (like a martini) and served over ice with an orange twist. The combination is bitter and bracing, but enjoyably, quaffably so — the way fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice is. The gin tames the Campari but doesn’t cover it up, even if you tilt the ratio a bit more towards the gin as you become accustomed to the aperitif. It is, plainly, one of the best excuses to be thirsty.

The Pimm’s Cup is a similar drink, but as British as the Negroni is Italian. A British bartender in the 1820s, James Pimm, invented the liqueur; by the 1960s, his company offered six versions of it, each of them using the same basic herbs and spices to flavor a different base liquor. Today, only one version is still produced — the first and best, Pimm’s No. 1, a 50-proof gin concoction. Pimm’s is a ruddy russet, like reddish tea; the taste is slightly bitter, citric but not tart, subtly spicy. The Pimm’s Cup combines one part Pimm’s No. 1 with 2 parts lemon soda and garnishes it with aplomb: the original recipe, which you rarely find followed outside of Britain, adds leaves of mint and borage and slices of lemon, apple, orange, and strawberry. The Napoleon House in New Orleans simplifies this, using cucumber (which tastes similar to borage), mint, and an orange slice.

Easy variants are found by using ginger beer or tonic water instead of the lemon soda; if you do use the soda, be sure to use one with real lemon juice, like Essn’s Meyer Lemon soda or San Pellegrino’s Limonata. The tartness makes all the difference to the drink. In the winter, you can dispense with the garnishes completely unless you want to float a few cranberries on top: make a hot Pimm’s Cup with three parts hot lemonade and one part Pimm’s No. 1, and if you’re celebrating, add an extra part of gin.

But the simplest combination of gin and bitters is so simple that, in combination with the name, you may shy away from it. Pink Gin may not sound like a serious drink, but it’s an excellent way to try a new gin — or an old favorite. It uses Angostura bitters, which happen to be the easiest to find, though Peychaud’s are a good variant; like the soft drink Moxie, both take their bitterness from gentian root. Simply shake a few dashes of bitters into your glass, and swirl it around until the whole surface has been coated; add a couple ounces of gin, and rocks if you like. This isn’t a drink for gin beginners, but if you’re used to martinis or gin and tonics, it’s a great change of pace, especially with a really excellent gin.

One of the more popular examples among fans of mainstream gin is Hendrick’s. A traditional gin in most respects, Hendrick’s subtracts nothing noticeable from the blend of botanicals we’ve come to expect — but it adds cucumber and rose, and the cucumber in particular isn’t a background note like the grains of paradise used in Bombay Sapphire. It’s a pronounced, distinctive flavor — hardly as much as if it were cucumber schnapps we were talking about, or dill pickle vodka, but the cucumber is very much alive on the palate. Hendrick’s recommends that it be served with cucumber slices as garnish in place of the usual olive in the martini.

A little further from the mainstream is Junipero, from the same part of the country responsible for the new century’s predilection for extreme IPAs. Anchor Steam Distillery — based in San Francisco — boosts the juniper in Junipero, making it the most Christmas tree smelling liquor you can imagine — a gin for gin-lovers who want strong flavors without cloaking that traditional blend. A gin to drink with cigars, perhaps, kicking brandy out of the back room, at least for the evening. San Francisco is also home to No. 209, a subtly herbal and spicy gin that diminishes the juniper considerably.

209 and many of the newer gins — especially the new gins that gin drinkers mean when they talk about “these modern gins” — are sweeter than the norm, which can make for an odd martini but should appeal to vodka drinkers accustomed to the sweeteners added to their flavored vodkas. One of the world’s best and most popular gin producers, Tanqueray, recently unveiled their latest gin: Tanqueray Rangpur is infused with rangpurs (a lime-like mandarin orange from India), floral and citrusy and electric green, and is sweet and smooth enough to drink straight or on the rocks. You may find it out of place in a martini, but it makes a good gimlet or gin and tonic.

Two French gins that have entered the market are less extreme than the new Americans. G’Vine is distilled from grapes (like the French vodka Ciroc) and includes grape blossoms in its botanicals; Citadelle has more citrus in the botanical blend than most gins. Citadelle, though, has considerably more juniper than its sweeter and mellower countryman.

In England, Whitley Neill is one of the more exotic gins around, using South African botanicals — baobab and Cape gooseberries — in a sort of “this could have been developed in the nineteenth century, but it wasn’t” blend. The usual botanicals are all still present, but the additions along with the diminishing of the juniper create something orangey and spicy — if you do make a martini with it, be sure and add a dash of orange bitters. Less spicy, despite the name, is Bulldog gin, which uses the longan (or dragon eye, as the company calls it, a relative of the more familiar lychee fruit), a fruit that does go especially well with gin. This is a gin that could easily be lost in a cocktail with too many ingredients — in a martini or a gin and tonic, it would be good garnished with a fresh longan or lychee, to emphasize that slightly fruity tropical note that has replaced some of the pine nose. It’s also excellent with grapefruit juice, in a Greyhound or Salty Dog.

Think of the botanicals as being like chili powder. Everyone has a good idea of what chili powder tastes like, and certain combinations, even if they included many of the same ingredients, wouldn’t “taste right.” A little more or less onion in the mix won’t make anyone flinch; but add peppermint or lemon peel, and it may no longer be recognizable. Classically, gin botanicals include citrus peel, warm spices like cinnamon, orris root (which smells like violets and accounts for the floral nose of a gin like Bombay Sapphire), and licorice or anise. The dominant flavor remains the juniper berry, the seed cone of the juniper tree, which is also used in traditional game recipes, corned beef, and choucroute garni, the traditional dish of Alsace. Juniper itself has several flavor notes, the most distinctive of which is contributed by pinene, the same natural chemical found in the resin of pine trees — which is why cheap gin (made with few or poor-quality botanicals) has the reputation of smelling like turpentine.

Classically, gin is not a noticeably herbaceous liquor, not a busy one. Compare it to Coca-Cola, the original formula for which includes cinnamon, nutmeg, and four kinds of citrus, all of which are just accents on the cola flavor. Similarly, gin is fundamentally a juniper-flavored drink; that’s the substance of its identity, and the name itself is derived from it. In modern times, some new gins play fast and loose with the traditional botanicals: New Zealand’s South gin uses native kawa kawa and manuka berries, England’s Hendrick’s gin uses cucumber and rose, and Whitley Neill includes the fruit of two native African plants, the baobab and the Cape gooseberry. Some of the new gins are formulated for specific drinks: Tanqueray’s latest offering, Rangpur, includes rangpur “limes” (actually a relative of the mandarin orange) and is well-suited to the gimlet; Bulldog, infused with the Asian longan fruit, is designed for dirty martinis and tonic.

The original gin — distilled in the Netherlands in the 17th century — was aged, but gin’s popularity reached its apex in England in the next century, when unaged gin distilled from grain rejected by beer-brewers became a bargain-hunter’s phenomenon after the government imposed a heavy tax on imported liquor. The cheap intoxication of this gin was the driving force behind its popularity — it vastly overtook beer’s sales, not because of any preference of flavor, but because the juniper was strong enough to mask the harsh alcohol and a bottle of it would keep you drunk all day. Gin quickly became associated with drunks, while beer was something you drank for flavor.

Clearly that hasn’t remained the case. When London dry gin — produced in a fairly simple still and easy to make in the British colonies — was developed in the nineteenth century, the gin and tonic was born: the British used gin to mask the bitterness of the quinine-containing tonic water they drank to prevent malaria. This was one of the earliest mixed drinks, and the simplicity of the still helped to popularize gin for a new type of drinker: the cocktail drinker. The simplest liquor to distill at home or in a small business like a speakeasy, gin became the liquor of choice for the Prohibition generation and the cocktails they loved — the Tom Collins, the martini, the rickey, the gimlet, and for the ladies, the gin milk punch. When Prohibition ended, gin remained the drink of choice for many, particularly as so many American whiskey distilleries had gone out of business; since it’s an unaged product, a gin distillery can begin selling its product almost immediately, while a new whiskey distillery has a few years of waiting and hoping.

In recent years, gin — the victim of many of the drinking trends of the last half of the twentieth century — has regained much of its old popularity with a new prestige, as its complexity and combination of bold and subtle flavors appeals so strongly to the modern cocktail culture.