Book review: The Dedalus Book of Gin

There are 500 years of gin history and facts to get through as Barnett charts the rise and fall, rise, fall and finally rise again of what has become a quintessentially British drink. Today, gin is back on the up, enjoying a renaissance, and multiple boutique varieties are in demand with a new generation of drinkers.

As far as Barnett is concerned ‘gin’ and ‘craze’ are two words that go together like, well, ‘gin’ and ‘tonic’, since the drink has enjoyed enduring popularity since it was first brewed in the Netherlands five centuries ago. His book is detailed in the extreme and you’ll find a myriad of interesting facts, along with social commentary and historical information. What would spice it up a bit for the casual reader is a little more colour on some of the characters involved in the gin story: the alchemists, inventors, explorers and out-and-out soakers who count the drink as their favourite tipple.

Barnett takes us back to 16th- century Holland to explore the origins of the drink and it’ll come as no surprise to those who reach for a G&T at the end of a long day that it has always had medicinal links. Initially used as a fumigant, it was also prescribed for a variety of ailments, not least in Scotland where the “wise women” of Lothian used juniper berry tea to aid abortion.

The alcohol element was introduced in Holland by alchemists, apothecaries and physicians who distilled juniper and spirit to produce ‘genever’ but by the 16th century, gin drinkers had started to produce it themselves. Botanicals were added (sage, lavender, juniper) and in the UK,, gin began to replace beer and wine as a pleasure drink, although it still had a therapeutic aura and was used for childbirth, drunk by wet nurses and given to colicky children. Meanwhile, the Dutch were making so much that during the Thirty Years War the term ‘Dutch courage’ was coined since its army marched on its liver.

Barnett is good on the growth of urban culture and its links to gin as an agent describing how by 1716 London was the largest conurbation in Europe, with half a million people, in the grip of a gin craze. Drunk neat until the 19th century, it was dubbed “scorch-gut”, “strip-me-naked” and “kill me quick”, as unscrupulous manufacturers adulterated it with turpentine, sulphuric acid and almond oil.

However, some of the best gin also emerged at this time as the invention of the continuous still meant sweetener wasn’t needed and dry London gin was born. Alexander Gordon was established in Southwark in 1769.

Another gin frenzy came along in the 19th century, this time with a difference. Now society had become paternalistic, concerned that women and the poor were drinking too much, and a new radicalised urban working class had emerged. However, in the gin palaces like the Cafe Royal in Edinburgh, with their acres of glass, marble and lights, business was brisk.

Colonials also took to gin like ducks to water, especially after the invention of tonic, which contained quinine from the cinchona tree bark, and was used to fight malaria. Apparently quinine was also used in Irn-Bru – no doubt popular with Scottish colonists – while Nelson’s navy drank cinchona root tonic with their rum.

Finally, Barnett serves us up the cocktails that made gin respectable, and Prohibition that made it fashionable. ‘Bootleg’, ‘hooch’, “speakeasies”, the language was as seductive as the era was profitable for British gin producers who sold $40m worth to smugglers.

Having awakened our thirst, Barnett reminds us that after five centuries now is the best time to enjoy gin. In 1988, Bombay Sapphire, the first new premium gin for decades, was created by Michel Roux, the man responsible for Absolut Vodka, inspiring dozens of boutique gins. Old brands like Tanqueray revitalised small batch gins and an older, artisanal style of distilling with the emphasis on botanicals, such as the cucumber and rose in Hendricks.

But it’s not all old school. Gin still does crazy with the best of the alcopops. Witness the moment in 2009 when the cellar of the pop-up Alcoholic Architecture bar in Ganton Street, Soho, was filled with clouds of breathable gin and tonic to the delight of paper-suited partygoers who absorbed it through their eyes and mucous membranes.

The brainchild of “architectural foodsmiths” Sam Bompas and Harry Parr, old Etonians who rubbed shoulders with Prince William and whose previous stunts include flooding a Grade-1 listed building with four tonnes of alcoholic punch, it saw punters charged a fiver an hour to wander through a vapour of G&T. Gin without a glass. Still crazy after all these years.

• The Dedalus Book of Gin by Richard Barnett, Dedalus, 292pp, £15