You can call it a G&T if you want (which makes it sound coolly British), but even with the more swinging moniker I probably haven’t had one in, oh, ages. Mostly because I don’t like them, due, I think more often than not, to the tonic tasting something like wobbly aluminum. Even in today’s modern champion bars, where you’ll find homemade tonic here and there, I haven’t gone back. Beyond the tonic troubles, it also traces to a time when I wasn’t able to lay my sticky hands as readily on gin that could take the G&T to the heights I desired in my little boozy heart. So, historically, I was G&T opposed. However, recently, our pal Erika turned 40, and we hosted the party in our garage bar (please don’t tell the fuzz). And Erika, it seems, has a serious fondness for the Gin & Tonic. So, that was one of the drinks on the menu (the other I’m going to detail later in the week). To try and get it worthy of being a celebratory highlight (instead of a low light), I found the finest tonic I could here in Seattle (it was Fever Tree tonic, and it was I must admit darn good) and then mixed it up with a gin from the other side of the country that I’d recently been sent, Brooklyn Gin. Brooklyn Gin has a hefty bottle (and perhaps the heaviest lid ever) that sports all kinds of iron-mongering style, but even better was what I found inside: a gin that straddles the classic juniper-forward gins and the newer floral numbers. So, a hint of the floralness under a juniper and peppery upside that mixed with the Fever Tree tonic perfectly. We garnished this better-by-far-than-normally-served G&T with either lemon, lime, or cucumber. Erika likes the latter, and hey, it was her birthday.
2 ounces Brooklyn gin (or thereabouts)
Chilled Fever Tree tonic
Cucumber slice (or lime or lemon if you want)
1. Fill a highball or rocks glass three quarters up with ice cubes. Add the gin, and then fill almost up with tonic. Stir a bit..
2. Garnish with your garnish of choice. And a happy birthday song.