5 December 2019
This is a very exciting day in our schedule of London outings, as today is all about drinking gin and having lunch, with any walking component being coincidental to proceedings. Specifically, we are trying out the “Gin Lover’s Tasting Experience and Three Course Lunch for Two at Skylon” from Virgin Experience Days, a snappy title if ever there was one. This was a very generous birthday gift from our daughter Annabel, but is about to expire into the murky depths of Richard Branson’s profit pot if we don’t redeem our voucher forthwith. To ease our conscience (and get our steps up), we start off by walking the Thames Path from London Bridge to the South Bank. It’s very cold, fully justifying our decision to focus on gin and lunch, in that order, inside a warm building. We eventually locate the entrance to Skylon, which could alternatively be named “the 3rd floor of the South Bank Centre, just above the public canteen”.
Our mixologist introduces himself as Marco and is a friendly and knowledgeable chap who hails from Italy. He asks us, tentatively, if we know in which country gin originates. Just to annoy him (or maybe she really believes this), Jayne takes a stab at France, even justifying it with a linguistically convincing reference to génévrier, the French word for juniper. A cloud appears to pass over Marco’s brow before he explains patiently that the correct answer is - of course - Italy. At least that’s what he claims - most of my subsequent Google searches of the history of gin fail to confirm any significant Italian heritage. To be fair, he does admit that the medically gifted monks of Salerno, who chanced upon the healing powers of juniper, did not yet recognise - and far less commercialise - its potential as a beverage. As with many things alcoholic, this task was left to the Dutch.
And so it is that our first gin is a Bols Genever 1575, a tribute to the first gins of the era produced in the Low Countries. Marco firstly invites us to taste the Genever in its neat form - it’s virtually unrecognisable (and undrinkable). He then adds some Fever Tree Indian Tonic and it becomes transformed into a drink you could almost claim is close to gin and tonic - if a lot more bitter than the modern version. It’s thought that the Dutch still used it primarily as a cure for sickness, including the plague, and soldiers used to drink a ration or two before going into battle - the origin of the term “Dutch courage”.
It was only when William of Orange, the man still held responsible today for the garish colour of Dutch football kit, took over the English throne that gin started to become well known in Britain. But it was his successor, Queen Anne, who proved to be an even bigger fan, legalising unfettered gin production at the start of the 18th century. This didn’t go well, as you can imagine, and by the 1730s the estimated gin consumption per week had risen to two pints per man, woman and child in London - an astonishing volume, which would even be beyond some of our friends. The misery and depravity of the age is depicted in Hogarth’s famous drawing, Gin Lane (whereas his contemporaneous Beer Street looks positively civilised by comparison).
Meanwhile, back at the scene of our own - far more modest - gin consumption, Marco offers two further historical gins for us to compare and contrast:
- Hayman’s Old Tom 1863, which is more typical of the first gin types produced in the UK during the 18th and 19th centuries; and
- Tanqueray’s Premium London Dry Gin, the more familiar gin variety which was first produced in the 1830’s and has become the gold standard for most modern gins.
We deem both very quaffable - certainly compared to the Bols Genever. The Old Tom offers a more rustic taste, a bit rougher around the edges somehow, but it’s refreshing to find an alternative to its more prevalent relation. We resolve to try Old Tom more regularly - most likely as a martini (shaken not stirred, in classic 007 style). As we sip our drinks, Marco continues to wax lyrical about ongoing excessive gin drinking in London, which had now extended into the Victorian era. At this time, in the midst of the Industrial Revolution, increasing numbers of people were flocking to London in the hope of finding remunerated work - only to find that the remuneration was, er, in gin, rather than actual money. This didn’t help much either.
But there was a saving grace. At around the same time, the British empire-builders in India were finding that quinine helped in the fight against malaria (and also as a cure for any after-effects of scurvy from the long boat journey). There was only one problem - it tasted terrible. Luckily, some clever person discovered that the taste became a lot less bitter - and even more health-giving - when combined with gin. And so a legend of cocktail hour was born.
Our final gin of the tasting experience turns out to be its pièce de résistance - a Truffle Gin from the very wonderful Cambridge Distillery, whose headline product we have already been enjoying this month. This is more of a digestif than a traditional gin, served neat over ice with a twist of orange. It’s delightful, the truffle taste and smell very prevalent yet blending perfectly with the botanicals. It’s lucky we’ve already had our lunch, otherwise we’d be a bit wobbly. Oh, silly me, we haven’t … damn. We later see on the Cambridge website that the Truffle Gin retails at £80 a bottle, enough to make your eyes water but a mere snip compared to their Anty Gin (£220) - which is actually made from red ants - or their Japanese-style Watenshi - at £2,000, surely the Big Daddy of very expensive premium craft gins.
Marco explains that craft distilleries such as Cambridge (founded eight years ago) shot to prominence only after the law was changed in 2013 to allow much smaller batches to be produced. This was a legacy of the Gin Law of 1736, passed as a vain attempt to curtail the profligacy introduced by Queen Anne. Although the draconian £50 licence fee levied on producers - a prohibitive sum in the 18th century - had long since ceased to be a barrier, the very high minimum production quantities enforced by Customs & Excise prevented more “boutique” distillers from entering a market long dominated by mass producers such as Gordon’s. Since 2013 - also encouraged by the parallel growth in craft beer - there has been an explosion in the number, variety and quality of small gin producers, not only in the UK but more widely. It’s a great time to be a gin drinker (hurrah).
I hold onto this thought as Marco informs us that our gin lesson is complete and our table is now ready for lunch. Disaster immediately strikes as a waiter starts clearing away our burgeoning collections of only partially consumed gin glasses. Devastated and bereft, we slouch across the restaurant to our table - only for our gins to make a welcome reappearance a few minutes later. The relief is palpable, as we hate to think of good gin going to waste, especially at this time of year. We have a nice window table too, with sweeping views of the river (and what would normally a sweeping view of my former employer’s enormous Embankment Place pile - except today it’s obscured by a random wigwam).
The lunch menu (normally £34 for three courses, but in our case £25 as part of the Virgin Experience offer) offers a decent choice between three dishes per course, plus ample sides as extras. Jayne chooses a Celtic combo of Scottish Gravlax and Cornish Cod, which is more or less what I’d have picked if she hadn’t got there first, so I order Roasted Ironbark Pumpkin Soup and Autumn Vegetable Curry. As it’s almost Christmas, we push the boat out with an extra side of sprouts garnished with bacon and chestnuts. It’s all well presented and tasty enough, without pretending to exceed expectations for its price point. For Central London and with a nice view though, I would say it’s decent value - particularly at the reduced “package deal” price. What’s more, we continue to enjoy our range of gins throughout lunch, so have no need to raid the wine list as well. At the end, we only need to settle up for the sprouts and the service charge (though, arguably, Virgin could make clearer that the latter is not already included in the experience price).
At £100 for two, including the gin tasting and a three course lunch, we would not hesitate to recommend this experience at Skylon. I did notice, however, that the offer on the Virgin Experiences website now includes only three gins in the tasting, rather than the four we enjoyed, so I imagine the “Super Premium” element of the Truffle Gin has now been axed. Despite this, the Skylon deal looks to be far better value for money than a competing gin tasting on level 68 of The Shard, which - for the same price - offers three gins, an amazing view, but - nothing to eat. In particular, our mixologist Marco was an excellent host, taking time to explain everything and add some of his own twists to the many historical insights. In summary, it’s a thoroughly enjoyable way to spend three hours while the kids are at school - as long as they don’t expect a lift home.
Acknowledgement: Thanks Annabel!
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