Alex Castle grew up in Kentucky, so she knew bourbon when she jumped into the boys’ club of professional distillers. Now, as the master distiller at Memphis’ Old Dominick Distillery, she’s president of the Tennessee Distillers Guild. As the father of a daughter, I think the image of a lady hurling a whiskey bottle through a glass ceiling is pretty groovy.
Her approach to gin is refreshing, as well, and with spring upon us, I have opinions. Alex told me that when developing Old Dominick’s No. 10, what she wanted was a balanced gin. Which is not as obvious as it sounds. Hendrick’s Gin was probably the first out of the gate with its botanical-forward approach, then came Junipero, and then a flood of others. It was a good time for gin because people were paying more attention to it. But as tends to happen when something gets fashionable — things go too far. Innovation slips easily into parody. Enter the age of a new artisanal gin hitting the market every week, each trying to outdo the other. If a little more botanicals are good, then a lot more must be better.
Alex had another vision: “I didn’t want a gin that tasted like a Christmas tree,” she says.
Which is what I like about Old Dominick’s No. 10. It’s got some interesting angles to it, but not at the expense of just being refreshing. Mrs. M, who never liked Hendrick’s or its army of imitators, approves. She lets the gin sit in the ice for a bit. Then it sparkles.
(Photo: Richard Murff)
What about the other side of the G & T equation? What’s the tonic of choice? Alex admitted — in something akin to embarrassment — that she drinks her gin with soda. And maybe that’s why I liked No. 10; it doesn’t need tonic to work.
Years ago, back when Mrs. M went by Ms. C, she introduced me to the gin and soda. I’d never heard of it before, and thought she was just being quirky (you know what it’s like when you first start dating). At any rate, I quickly found that I couldn’t go back to the old standard gin and tonic — it was too cloying and made me want to suck the enamel off my teeth. Plenty of higher-end tonics have come out since, but I’ve never warmed to them. Except …
I was pretty excited about Old Dominick’s box promotion with Jack Rudy’s tonic syrup. Pour your gin over ice, add the tonic, top off with soda water and a slice of citrus. The thing I really love about Jack Rudy is that while the bottle suggests using .75 ounce of syrup to 2 ounces of gin, you can modify that. If, for example, the charming Mrs. M has ruined the standard G & T for you — or perhaps you know Alex Castle and she’s doing the ruining — you have options. The new math: The recommended .75 ounce is equal to 4.5 teaspoons. I use one teaspoon (or 0.1666 oz.) and leave it at that.
Which brings us back to the concept of balance; you find whatever works for you. For me, that’s a well-balanced gin that is interesting but doesn’t make itself obvious, with a tonic that is however you like it. Give it a twirl in the ice and let it sit before diving in, so the botanicals open up and soften.
The weather is getting warmer, the tweed has gone away, and the seersucker is calling me from the closet. It’s gin season, and with a little tinkering on your part, a gin and tonic — perfectly blended for you — is waiting.
On a final note, tonic is made with quinine, which supposedly retards malaria. Intrigued, I tested its impact on COVID and I didn’t get the plague, but I understand that the test sample — me — was statistically insignificant. So go get your shot.
