Pink Pepper Gin is Audemus Spirits’ signature creation. An incredible melange of unusual gin botanicals. They’re each handled individually and distilled separately. The base spirit is a neutral grain and the namesake pink peppercorn is among three botanicals that are vacuum distilled at low temperatures (juniper and cardamom being the other two). There’s also some secret botanicals in the mix as well.

At Audemus, we’re a rather slim team of three… Well, officially, at least. Behind the scenes, there are many partners we work with who ensure we’re able to deliver the best possible product under the best possible conditions. The closest of these partners is undoubtedly our friends at ELS; a family-run independent bottler and logistics company about 1km away from the distillery. Whether in the offices or on the production line, everyone on the team has almighty patience, heart and love in everything they do – and without them, there is no way we could do what we do. Pink Peppercorn is in vogue. It’s certainly one of the hot botanicals in 2018 and 2019; however, don’t write Cathouse as a hopping on the bandwagon. The Hibiscus adds uniqueness and the underlying botanicals are bold and balanced. As we mentioned above, Audemus Spirits says their Pink Pepper Gin changes with time. Let me take an excerpt from my book GIN: The Art and Craft of the Artisan Revival to share what I said about Pink Pepper’s taste in early 2015 when I wrote it: When I was in college, I studied Urban Planning. My senior year studio was in Newark, a mysterious place a PATH trip outside of New York— a place where millennials retired to have kids or live in sterile skyscrapers on the edge of the Hudson. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I just didn’t know Newark. The Ironbound neighborhoodod was a beautiful mess of diverse cultures, great food, interesting architecture— and now home of All Points West Distillery, makers of Cathouse Gin and Cathouse Pink Pepper Gin. I find that when mixing with Cathouse Pink Pepper Gin the pink peppercorn and hibiscus notes becomes a bit more literal. The Gin and Tonic is light and floral. Don’t mix it with a flavored tonic water. A modicum of sweetness is also helpful for amplifying these notes. I like it best with a full-on sweet tonic water like Canada Dry or Scnweppes.Cathouse Pink Pepper Gin builds on it with an infusion of hibiscus and pink peppercorn. Tasting Notes Covert liqueur was born from a desire to bring the fragrant warmth and complexity of three ingredients together in a chord of liquid harmony. Using just fig leaves, spring honey and cognac we capture a flavour in essence which is at once evocative, suave and richly perfumed. Fig trees grow abundantly all over France – adorning the edges of vineyards, sporadically appearing in the wild and taking pride of place in private gardens. At the start of springtime, fig trees plump their leaves with an aromatic sap; becoming richly green in colour, whilst wafting the deliciously heavy and sweet aromas of the sun-roasted leaf.

If you’ve been drinking vanilla vodka or other creamy, evocations of confectioneries flavored vodkas** this gin might be the gin to bring you into the fold. It’s incredibly accessible to nearly anyone. The palate is intensely and delicately flavorsome with a lot of depth. I’d recommend this to anyone. Even if they weren’t a gin drinker.Payne notes that Beefeater Pink Strawberry is inspired by Beefeater’s founder James Burrough's creative curiosity. “A pharmacist by trade before becoming a distiller, Burrough's wonderful inventions included raspberry gin, cherry brandy, British Brandy, [and more],” he explains. “Beefeater continues to embrace Burrough’s passion for colliding quality craftsmanship with experimentation and has created this natural strawberry gin for the new generation of drinkers.” Paye recommends using Beefeater Pink Strawberry to craft The Strawberry B&T by combining one part Beefeater Pink Strawberry with three parts of tonic over ice with fresh strawberries. Now a nonagenarian, Vera has always been her own harshest critic. She worries (as only a grandmother can) that the cake isn’t quite as good as the last one, and she apologises repeatedly for her self-perceived failure. She’s wrong on each occasion of course, but the ritual of apology is as much a part of the Chocolate Cake as the cup of tea that accompanies the first slice.