This is garden gin through rose-tinted glasses - a raspberry-laced whisper of a spirit that leans more toward flavour than fire. At 32%, it's light, liqueur-adjacent, and outrageously easy to drink. But don’t mistake softness for simplicity - there's structure here, and elegance too. On the nose: wild raspberries still warm from the sun, rose petals, a hint of mint leaf, and soft citrus zest. There's also a trace of piney juniper underneath it all - the bare bones of classic gin structure holding the fruit aloft. The palate is luscious but clean: bright raspberry coulis, pink grapefruit, lemon thyme, and a breeze of cucumber skin. There's a lovely tart-sweet push-and-pull, almost like a dry rose that’s had a fling with a fruit patch. The alcohol is low, but it carries the botanicals without fading - this isn’t watered down, it's toned down. Mid-palate brings more herbal depth - a touch of basil, perhaps, or peppery nasturtium - before rounding off into a creamy raspberry compote with a crisp, zesty edge. Finish: fresh, floral, and fleeting - like a kiss in the garden just before sunset. Serve long with soda, or pour over crushed ice with a sprig of mint and a twist of lemon. Or don't dress it up at all - it's that pretty on its own.
