The flood of professional manuals pouring over the heads of bartenders and other specialists in the beverage gastronomy segment is increasingly leading aspiring professionals to resign from literature and rely on life-giving sources aptly referred to as “search engines”. Why not? However, now and then, a book emerges that tempts a rehabilitation of literature. In my opinion, The Gin Dictionary by David T. Smith is one of them.
Its very first sentence grabs the reader’s attention and refuses to let go: “Gin is an exciting subject that has one foot in the past and another in the future.” Just a line later, it reminds that, at the end of the 20th century, it was simply ignored. David’s alleviating circumstance is that he immediately acknowledges how his approach to juniper has changed. In 2005, he noted the hundredth gin on his list of tasted gins; by the book’s publication date – April 5, 2018 – it had brought him to a thousand five hundred samples from fifty countries.
Reviewing his work isn’t easy. In the end, I decided to go for a not-so-common approach, the so-called SWOT analysis, a principle now familiar to many of us. Examining strengths and weaknesses, opportunities (even missed ones), and threats (perhaps not the most appropriate term, as a threat can be eliminated by simply closing, putting aside, or giving away a book) promises to help sort the perspective on a handbook that has a little bit of everything, with – and I’ll say this upfront to avoid discouraging any readers – those strengths and opportunities significantly outweighing the weaknesses.
STRONGS
The Gin Dictionary is firmly secure in the area it programmatically targets: expertise. It’s dominated by credible definitions of the twelve main types of gins one can encounter today. Sure, in the case of compounded gin, the reader won’t tremble, that term is quite well-known. But how about an alpine gin, typical in German-speaking countries, Switzerland, and Scandinavia, where they emphasize strong juniper notes and somewhat overlook citrus? Or the bush gin, born from Australia’s wild nature’s gifts, relying heavily on endemic botanicals, not shying away from a wine distillate as its base? And when was the last time you heard about Vilniaus Džinas, the Lithuanian gin that lost its geographical status in 2014 just because the manufacturer refused to disclose its – secret – composition?
Sure, we might chuckle at the term transatlantic gin, named after the transatlantic flair of movie stars like Katharine Hepburn or Cary Grant, and equally witty description of perhaps the first such product in the subcategory, Junipero gin from Anchor Distilling in San Francisco: “… a London Dry gin that moved to California, tanned in the local sun, and began mingling after six bottles.” It might sound sly, but at least the reader will be entertained. Above all, it will prepare for potential discussions with guests, allowing one to be an informed conversationalist.
WEAKS
Ironically, information from the cocktail culture sphere is sometimes debatable. It might be more accurate to say it’s incomplete. At least it reveals that this particular sphere isn’t David’s cup of tea. In the Diamond method entry (briefly: everything you mix with and from which you make a Dry Martini – except for vermouth – should be frozen), I miss a reference to Luis Buñuel and his “put everything in the freezer the day before” approach.
In the French 75 description, I miss a mention of the anise veil, without which this excellent champagne cocktail is simply (with all due respect) a Diamond Fizz. The rigor with which David presents the historical context of both the Gibson and the Gimlet, especially the names that inspired their naming, is striking.
To some extent, the inclusion of certain terms that aren’t significantly related to gin is incomprehensible. I especially paused at Chartreuse. Conversely, I miss ginger beer and a mention of anethole in the entry on the louche effect. I forgive David’s described minor flaws. After all, which reviewer would miss the opportunity to lightly tease the author?
OPPORTUNITIES
This is where our SWOT analysis works well for the book’s author. He didn’t forget to include the Gin Tonica entry, which has coped well with the current Gin ‘N Tonic trend, not only in Spain. I’m not a fan of GT in a glass other than a dignified tumbler, but okay, evolution is evolution. And a separate entry is necessary.
The entry on Martini gadgets is interesting and perhaps exploratory for many, dealing with various gadgets used to serve the Dry Martini cocktail, especially solutions for the gin to vermouth ratio, whether they were special scales, syringes, or the Thexton Gourmet Martini Tester, capable of determining, using colored balls, whether the cocktail is dry, extra dry, or just – normal.
I then award David T. Smith a red dot for the Terroir entry. We might say it’s fashionable, trendy, overused. But the author showcases specific examples of what and where the source is that justifies identifying the unique characteristics of a certain brand/brands of gin.
THREAT
No, the singular subtitle isn’t the reviewer’s inconsistency. The threat of The Gin Dictionary lies not in the book itself but in not reading it. Because where else would you find out that Plymouth gin has also lost its geographical designation?
Smith, David T. The Gin Dictionary. Illustrated by Stuart Patience. London: Mitchell Beazley, 2018
