Gin Lane

Ransom!

2011-07-05T21:55:00.003+01:00

The note delivered under cover of darkness, smelling of rum and cheap cigarettes.

Let it Sloe! Let it Sloe! Let it Sloe!

2010-12-21T21:15:00.000Z

Oh the weather outside is frightful,

But the gin is so delightful,

And since we've no place to go,

Let It Sloe! Let It Sloe! Let It Sloe!

It doesn't show signs of stopping,

And we've bought some pills for popping,

The lights are turned way down low,

Let It Sloe! Let It Sloe! Let It Sloe!

When we finally get pissed tonight,

How we'll hate going out in the storm!

But if you'll stop us getting in a fight,

All the way home we'll be on form.

Our livers are slowly dying,

And, dear readers, we're still blog writing,

But as long as you love us so,

Let It Sloe! Let It Sloe! Let It Sloe!

Art appreciation

2010-10-10T18:17:00.000+01:00

It's October again, a particularly arty time of year - you'll remember artache from last year; this year different boy, same issues. Getting boys trashed on gin every time you see them doesn't work apparently...

Anyway we'll be ~~propping up the bar~~ pausing to stare meaningfully* at artworks at Frieze on Wednesday, but at least one day this week we suggest forgoing Frieze for Sunday Fair where artists will be producing limited edition cocktails for a mere £50. Cocktails are now artworks. 'We're not hungover, we just bought too much art last night.'

Speaking of art buying, we Gin Lane Ladies don't know much about art but we know what we like. At the launch last week of an online art store there was something about this print that caught our eye.

Art is very subjective and we don't want to force our interpretation on you, as everyone gets a different meaning from art, but something about the juxtaposition of lettering just feels like there is a depth, a 'call to action' if you will.

See you on the other side of Frieze Art Fair, not to mention London Cocktail Week. If you see us at the bar the next round of art is on us.

*We would suggest around 3.40 minutes as the optimum amount of time in front of an artwork to suggest to those around you that you have both fully appreciated and understood it.

A pint of Negroni and a fishfinger sandwich

2010-08-17T21:44:00.001+01:00

"The bitters are excellent for your liver, the gin is bad for you. They balance each other."

Orson Welles

We at Gin Lane have been showing our appreciation to this year’s balmy summer weather. Let’s be honest, it has been somewhat splendid, and naturally, gin is quite the perfect spirit for such a summer. Rehydration can come in no finer disguise than a cold, sturdy gin and tonic.

But in the interests of equal gin rights, we of course are obliged to look further afield to many of the other fine gin drinks. I for one am on the Gin Lane Bitters Committee, and have been busily compiling a paper* on Aperol – the oft overlooked little cousin of Campari – and as such have been conducting some highly scientific, late-night experiments at Gin Towers with the neon booze juice.

In the past I have used my treasured bottled-sunset Aperol sparingly, having successfully brought it home with me from Venice, where I spent three days dachshund-spotting and drinking obscene quantities of Spritz (fyi: Prosecco, Apreol, soda water, orange and/or olive). This was until I realised how absurdly easy it is to make a Negroni.

Oh the Negroni. Is there a more beautiful drink? If it is on the cocktail menu – as it is at Purl and Caravan - I will be ordering it. No matter, as was the case with my last Caravan visit, if it is to accompany my breakfast. It is the ultimate democratic gin-based drink. Elegant enough for a lady, and yet weighty enough for a chap, it is as fine a drink for summery outdoors drinking as it is for Saturday-night-saddo solo boozing. According to most reports, it was invented (read: ordered) in Florence, 1919, by a certain Count Camillo Negroni, who wanted a stronger version of his favoured Americano cocktail. Thusly, gin replaced the soda water in the Americano, and the drink become the Negroni we know and love today.

Of course, we spend most of our time mingling amongst London’s most upstanding of citizens and the finest of palettes. However, in the interests of research, this lady recently spent a Saturday night in at her Shoreditch abode making Negronis and fishfinger sandwiches. Borne from a mere four ingredients, the Negroni is the ultimate DIY cocktail. Not only is the list of ingredients concise, but the making is a doddle, even for the most inebriated of ladies. Consisting of equal parts gin, Campari (or Aperol) and sweet vermouth with an orange twist, it also lends itself wonderfully to making in large quantities… like, say, pints. Count Camillo himself put 'Antico Negroni 1919' into production as a readymade version

So, next time you find yourself without a Saturday night plan, just take the cat off the hook, ask the neighbours to look after the phone and make yourself a pint of Negroni – it’s Orson Welles / Gin Lane approved.

* due to be released within the next 2 months, on the back of a packet of Marlboro Light Menthols

The OriGINal Rebrand

2010-08-01T15:21:00.003+01:00

Gin in fancy dress

The Gin Lane Ladies were fortunate to be given a faded parchment which documents the first ever marketing meeting, back when people actually went to market and didn't think about stuff so much. We reprint it here, in its full, dramatised for Radio 4 version.

Scene: 1823, a dark study in the home counties. A faint smell of fish lingers in the air. A man is sitting with his back to us.

Tarquinine enters, he has a rather impressive moustache, "James! How's the oyster business going?"

He turns, "Ah Tarquinine - good to see you. The oysters are selling very well. Commuting is something of a problem as Waterloo, King's Cross and Paddington haven't been built yet, but one mustn't grumble...although..."

"What is it James?"

"It's the gin they drink with the oysters Tarquinine!"

"The gin?!"

"Well the thing is people don't... well they don't really like it! I mean obviously it is medicinal but it's got a bit of tang to it..and the reputation is terrible. Women selling babies clothes and whatnot."

"You're right James - but at least it takes away the taste of those bloody oysters..."

"Well there is that. But we need a way of selling gin so even people who don't like it will drink it..."

"You could...I don't know...disguise it!"

"Disguise it Tarquinine? Maybe I should shave off that moustache of yours and disguise it with that. Haw haw haw!"

"Haw haw haw!" Tarquinine lets out a loud snort, "What I meant dear fellow is just pop along to Covent Garden and buy some of those fruit and vegetables and shove them in the gin..."

"Fruit and vegetables! Are you mad?"

A few days later James wanders round the market. His hand hovers over a potato and a banana. Then he snatches up an orange, a lemon, a cucumber, some strawberries and a fistful of mint. This is ridiculous he thinks. Stupid Tarquinine! Later that afternoon Tarquinine pops into James' oyster bar, customers are quaffing gin with enormous amounts of fruit and vegetables in. Sales have tripled.

"How are you James?"

"Well hello! This was a great idea of mine...the customers are very much enjoying my new drink. I just need massive jugs and a name for it so people don't know it is gin...I might even call it after myself. JAMES!"

Tarquinine is speechless.

"No wait, it shouldn't be James..." Tarquinine looks hopeful. "It should be the family name...I'll call it Pimm's!"

So now you know. Ladies and gentlemen who profess not to like gin at all are actually consuming by the jugful as soon as there is the slightest whiff of sunshine. We rest our case.*

*It's not just Pimm's either, many other household names also disguise their gin origins including Branston Pickle, Coco Pops and PG Tips. A good clue is to look for the Royal warrant as we all know they like a gin or two.

Drinking Etiquette with Mr Dogg.

2010-07-27T10:21:00.000+01:00

Snoop drinking gin in his usual understated manner

The Ladies of the Lane are delighted to say we gained exclusive access to the Doggfather while he was in the UK for Glastonbury. Would we lie to you?* What with hitting 50 and declaring that he has watched Coronation Street for the past 11 years, we're wondering if Snoop still has it and what our good pal** can tell us about gin? Here is the unabridged*** interview script when we ventured inside Snoop's trailer.

Gin Lane 'Ho': Yo Snoop! We like gin and we hear it's your tipple of choice - any favourite gins?

Snoop: I got me some Seagram's gin

GL: Racey! Would that have anything to do with Miss July?! Any particular drinking gripes?

Snoop: Everybody got they cups, but they ain't chipped in

GL: Round buying; it is an issue. We would never go to a party and expect to drink for free. Some people have no manners. Apart from Seagram's what do you and your friends drink?

Snoop: My homey Dr. Dre came through with a gang of Tanqueray.

GL: Would that have anything to do with Tanqueray rhyming with his own name?

At this point in the interview there is a stony silence so we change the subject.

GL: Favourite mixer Snoop?

Snoop: Tanqueray and chronic

Tonic surely?! Best not to argue at this stage...

GL: Interesting...

Snoop: Get your ice, get your cups, straight up.

GL: So you're a Martini kind of a man then? Any other tips for our readers?

Snoop: I hit a corner and make sure my drink don't spill.

At this point the interview comes to a close; we are reliably informed Snoop does in fact practice road safety and wasn't driving and was most definitely wearing a seatbelt.

So that's all motherf**kers.

* Yes we most certainly would. Sorry.

** Never met him

*** We obviously took out all references to bitches, hos and and funky ass shit as we don't think swearing is big or clever

Just my ima-gin-ation

2010-07-13T22:09:00.001+01:00

It was a normal kind of evening with this lady and her gentleman friend. We meandered a stretch of the ancient Roman road Watling Street to take in a view privée of intriguing artworks by an artist whose kaleidoscopic influences apparently include Mallarmé's poetry, British zombie movies and 19th century French millitary painting. Topped off with a few bottles of freebie(r) and a Yemeni supper. As I said, a normal sort of evening.

We started about the long walk back east-central, pondering the eating habits of Jack Bauer when this lady's well-trained eye was fish-hooked at twenty paces by a certain unmistakable 11-point type word: gin.

Ladies and gentlemen, Mansfield Cryogenics have moved - this is Purl. A newly opened Victoriana-infused cocktail den nestled a safe distance from the Chardonnay-thirsty hoardes of the City and the Mojito-swigging trendos of the East. In fact, the only reason I have ever been in this part of town with booze-thirst before, was on another very normal evening of viewing miniature-man-suits in an old fire station, as one does. My gentleman friend allowed me the honour of buying the drinks, as it was a Tuesday and it was 10pm and and I could sense that he was, in his head, already watching re-runs of 24. The cocktail menu regularly changes in this joint, as the leaves from the booze tree fall, but on this balmy June eve I plumped for a Negroni and a Clover Club - both masterfully created with two of the fine array of gins available, with ice carved before my very eyes from a glacier (ok ok, a really big block). We listened to bizarre Charleston-tinged remixes, sat in the bowels of this Marylebone underworld in a little cave all of our own.

The Gin Lane Ladies don't do reviews (not least because other people are, like, well better - see: Yet Another Gin and that naughty Gin Monkey), but if we did, we'd tell you to go to Purl. And to order the Foul Moudames at The Queen of Sheba.

Statement of Witness: Deliver us from (G)innocence

2010-05-17T14:36:00.002+01:00

The Tasting Session's Flickr Photostream / Jacqueline Chang Photography

SHOREDITCH POLICE DEPARTMENT: TRANSCRIPT OF STATEMENT

Statement of: Gin Lane Ladies

Age: Erm, twenty-something (honest)

Date: 11/05/2010

Location: Shoreditch Town Hall

Lady 1: Look, all I remember is this. I took the 78 bus to Shoreditch Town Hall, where I met one of my trusted Gin Lane companions and entered. No, not via the main entrance, it was the basement.

Lady 2: We were in this room and the clocks and the pictures on the walls were all sideways, and there were eggs filled with asparagus and duck on sticks and Cazadores Tequila everywhere.

L1: And even a chocolate with a shot of tequila embedded in it.

L2: Yeah that was amazing… but then it got weirder. A funny hairy chap appeared, maybe he was a centaur... Anyway he was holding two apples and babbling about an angry queen. He convinced us to follow him through a cabinet in the wall into a wintery wonderland where we drank the finest Appleton Estate Rum and ate teenie tiny rum-spiked ice creams. Then the hairy fellow led us further into the darkness where we were met Snow White…

L1: Well technically Mr. Snow White. He showed us how not to make apple pies but how to eat the most perfect whiskey chocolates and gave us all a shot of the oakiest whiskey that's ever passed our lips.

L2: As if this weren't enough, next we were led to a room where a wolf kissed a girl and we all drank Meantime beer. Then we were led into an enchanted forest where gin flavoured chocolates grew in cages from a literary apple tree.

L1: She's right, there was gin everywhere, but not normal gin... this gin was made from apples from the organic cider apples from the fields of Chase Distillery and made the most marvellous mini martinis, and boozy-jelly-worms.

L2: The last thing I remember is snorting some sort of (chocolate) powder in the toilets. I think there was a Big Brother contestant there.

L1: We didn’t want to do it, but they convinced us. It was peer pressure. And I suppose maybe we wanted to look cool. Look, we're sorry. Please don't tell our mothers.

L2: I'm sorry officer but we promise we’re telling the truth. Honestly, it was something called the Tasting Sessions: Deliver us from Innocence, cooked up by the ladies who were behind Towards A Fluid State, it’s their fault.

L1: Yeah, and Damian Allsop is the man responsible for all of the chocolates

L2: You should check The Tasting Sessions' website for the next session if you don't believe us.

GIN PARTY MANIFESTO

2010-05-06T13:20:00.002+01:00

IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO VOTE!

(ps. Thank you to that German chap Karl who let us use his template thing)

A Broadcast on behalf of the Gin Party

2010-05-01T21:39:00.002+01:00

Transparent expenses from the Gin Party

So over the last couple of weeks we've been hearing about all these parties and wondered why no one had invited us! We love parties! How dare they? Then we realised - we don't need them - we'll have our own!

Anyway this is our party broadcast. We think there might be a word missing from that statement but we're too drunk to know or care.

We say vote Gin Party. Yes, we hear you, oh cynical voters. You're thinking you haven't heard from the Gin Lane Ladies for a while. You'd be right. We were undercover. We were, you know, trying to be more like politicians. You don't hear from them and then a week before the election they start bombarding you with leaflets and promises. So here we are.

Our policies? Um. Drink gin. Um, that's it. We'll worry about the small stuff like the economy once you vote us in. We love a live debate though and promise to turn our mikes off when we slag off vodka. And the ~~drinking in~~ canvassing in pubs and bars has begun in earnest. Oh and if there happened to be a hung parliament we might align ourselves with Churchill pre 1924 as he liked a Martini or two. Then again we might not. Never discuss politics we say. But if you did want to vote for your favourite gin below why not?

Come Gin With Me

2010-03-29T20:39:00.001+01:00

Feeling a bit 70s this week. Not in our seventies, as though we ladies are ageing we still have the occasional delight of being asked for our identification when buying gin. It really is the elixir of youth. Under no circumstances tell anyone we have perfected a shifty walk and lack of eye contact as we approach the till.

So in fact back to the 1970s for us. We swung by Trailer Happiness on Thursday for a delicious gin and champagne cocktail amongst nests of tables and graphic printed curtains, but it was Saturday night when we truly went retro.

An Abigail's Party themed dinner. Jumpsuits donned, hair flicked, blue eye shadow applied we hot footed it Kensington way for a supper that began with the Queen Mum's favourite and 70's classic Gin and Dubonnet which our hosts mixed with a dash of bitter lemon. Apparently bitter lemon the mixer of favour in the late 60's early 70's favourite is becoming harder to find, patronise it now before it is too late!

The G&B was accompanied by a delightful array of suburban snacks; a foil hedgehog with cheese and pineapple, twiglets and oh so sophisticated pimento olives in a bowl. Our hosts were most certainly folks of a certain class! We sat down for dinner with a range of Afro wearing gents; sorry boys the question on everyone's lips was were they were more Jackson 5 or Kevin Keegan? Dinner consisted of a melon boat starter, paella, creme caramel and a soundtrack worthy of Studio 54 lit by a lava lamp. A 2am cab ride home, the score was a reassuring 9/10.

When it is our turn to host we're wondering if we can get away without serving food at all.

Stop your sobbing

2010-03-03T16:21:00.001Z

I've been meaning to finish this entry for some time. You may recall a certain emotional week for the ladies shortly before Christmas - "the missing week" - during which an astonishing amount of the ladies' favourite was consumed with particular gusto. At the end of who knows which of these nights this lady stumbled home scribbling an angered, teary blog post on the back of an expired pack of Camel Lights.

Photograph by Sam Perry & Jennifer Smit

As seen on the cover of the excellent 125 Magazine - Issue 6

So why does gin have such a reputation for making our womenfolk cry? And why, I hear you scream, are you revisiting such nonsense? Let me explain.

To answer the first question, this myth could be some way explained by gin's popularity amongst the female poor of 18th century London. 'Gin' here, however, describes the bathtub variety produced from the cheapest possible grain and diluted with sugar, fruit, old boots, anything to disguise the abhorrent taste. As for its female-heavy demographic, well, gin was available to purchase on the street and in corner shops. Beer, then virtuous by comparison, was confined to ale houses which were of course male-only territories. Gin thus became associated with good old-fashioned female desperation, not that we know of such things...

Of course, being well-versed in Lady's Eye-water's fabled teary history, this lady isn't one to be fooled by such twaddle. I know perfectly well, as do my cohorts (here comes the science, brace yourselves) that all types of alcohol are depressants; drugs which slow activity in the brain (we rarely feel such effects thanks to our incalculable intellect / Big Giant Brains) by increasing the production of gamma-amino butyric acid, an amino acid that eventually promotes sleep in the central nervous system.

Why am I revisiting such nonsense? Well. It was a normal sort of evening; a private view followed by a delightful dinner with the Ladies of the Lane, where we spoke of important matters such as gin and dresses. All very lovely as I'm sure you can imagine. So it was with much surprise that, come 2am this lady found herself storming out of her gentleman friend's abode in tears. How embarrassing! How uncouth! Dear reader, white wine should never precede gin. Nor should such vast quantities of the aforementioned combination follow a particularly upsetting week.

In any case, our official party line is this: Stick with the science - never, ever drink white wine.

A rather rum party

2010-02-28T22:53:00.002Z

Hello Sailor! No not that one.... Sailor Jerry of course. Thanks to an invitation from Madame Frou-Frou, the blonde half of DJ duo Hell Kittie Kittie Gin Lane was once again caught up in the world of rum. We see no harm in occasionally mixing our drinks after all. The occasion was the relaunch of Sailor Jerry rum as a cocktail mixer; we danced to the Paris Riots in the City Arts & Music Project whilst working our way through endless rum cocktails served up in jam jars. We always wondered why Granny insisted on keeping so many. Now we know. She predicted there'd be growing market of East London bars bored of traditional glassware. Good on you Granny.

We digress. What did we drink you ask? The classic Jerry and Ginger was followed by Death or Glory (no glory holes tonight thank the lord) and Vanilla Mojitos. The only near gin experience came when a Very Drunk Young Man asked this lady to name her favourite drink. After shouting GIN at him several times it became clear he a) wanted to buy her a drink in a free bar situation b) Alcohol in excess had apparently rendered him deaf and c) he was probably a bit of an idiot. The trays of drinks kept coming and for a Tuesday it all got a bit much. I woke up to a tattoo of an anchor on my arm. A transfer. Rock and roll.

On smell alone...

2010-02-17T13:42:00.003Z

The most unfortunate of Ladies has spent the last 11 days (go on, count them) in a most disturbingly dry state. Due to a run in with a dentist resulting in an unexpected extraction, this Lady has been on The Drugs (not the good kind) and therefore not on The Drink for really far too long. Suffice to say that I was therefore inclined to feel not a little sorry for myself on the night in question when, as per our invitation, we visited one of our number At Home on the Isle of Dogs.

And imagine my further woe when a bottle of a certain recently discovered gin was brought out, tonic was procured and lemon arrived at the table, for the bottle was beauteous. Greenall's Bloom.

As winner of the 2009 Drinks International Design and Packaging Gold Medal and not one but two Gold Stars for Luxury Product and Designer of the Year, one would expect nothing less. And then – you can image the torture, lesser Ladies would have fallen – I leant in for a whiff. O! What delicate fragrance was this? Not just the camomile, pomelo (that weird and wonderful fruit, provider of an aroma of citrusy loveliness) and honeysuckle of their advertising blah, but another taste… could it be… quinine? Like a G&T but just G, which, I would imagine (having not had a drop, I swear it), would slip down the throat with great ease. How fabulous. Perhaps the anti-inflammatory qualities of aforementioned alkaloid might help with me tooth ache…

Gordon's Makes Us Drunk

2010-02-10T23:24:00.003Z

Gordon's makes us very drunk too. And with Valentine's Day around the corner, for one of the ladies at least the only thing for it is to get very drunk. But before she does, she just wanted to share this delightful homage to Gordon's Gin by artists Gilbert and George. A love story indeed.

Going Gin in Hồ Chí Minh

2010-02-05T11:04:00.001Z

As you will know, one of our number has been travelling the globe at some not inconsiderable distance – presumably you’ve read my co-Lady’s post about Cuba so you ought to have gathered that this is the one about Vietnam.

As I travelled the length and breadth of Vietnam with my current beau (soaking up the sun in Saigon, having a high time in Hanoi… ok ok, here endeth the awful alliteration) it became apparent to me that we had seen only Gordon’s throughout Vietnam. It might even have been the super strength version that they’re allowed outside this country in the big wide world… the one with red and yellow branding… yeah.

As fabulous as Gordon’s is, it was with some significant relief that we arrived in Hồ Chí Minh and went for a little cocktail at the Sheraton Hotel. Of the eight restaurants, drinking holes and lounges at the Sheraton we opted for the rooftop bar where we drank several delightful Bombay Sapphire’s with tonic, and lime, I was pleased to note. As we looked out over the twinkling lights of Hồ Chí Minh there really was nothing more a Lady could ask for... Apart from another round.

Onwards, from Hồ Chí Minh to the tropical island of Phu Quoc where dined on the beach every night and slept in a delightfully simple wooden hut (amidst the quite frankly terrifying noises of the jungle I hasten to add) – and this is where the splendid game of gin rummy was discovered. If you haven’t opened your mind to this brilliantly named game already you must down tools immediately and follow these instructions to learn it. I discovered that I have a natural penchant for the game, and when there’s gin involved… well, I don’t even need to elaborate. Several rounds in things were getting a bit messy, at which point my handsome companion (yes, still the same one) called me obstreperous (someone can’t handle their gin) and I proceeded to ‘go gin’ – the point at when a player achieves the best possible outcome of the game – a bonus of 25 points. But then, us ladies always win when we 'go gin'.

The Ginternet Movie Database

2010-02-02T22:42:00.004Z

The Ladies of The Lane have, as ever, fully immersed themselves in Awards season. We were of course delighted to be invited to the Golden Globes (this is a fib) - it was a wonderful night - and we are very much looking forward to attending the Oscars (this is too). Our vintage Valentino couture gowns have been steamed to within an inch of their lives, and we've had the help polish our Chopard diamonds special like.

All that's left is to sit back and await the big night. This lead us to thinking about gin, of course, but gin in Hollywood, so we've compiled a list of our favourite Hollywood gin references for you. We'd like to thank our families, Miller's, Hendrick's, Bombay Sapphire, and of course the Academy.

I'm No Angel (1933)

Mae West's character Tira is caught up in an elaborate thievery plot, "Like an olive in a dry martini".

The Thin Man (1934)

Nominated for 4 Oscars

According to Nick Charles (played by William Powell), "a dry martini you always shake to Waltz time."

After Office Hours (1935)

A gratuitous excuse to mention the glorious Clark Gable and Constance Bennett, who spend a fabulous proportion of the movie drinking dry martinis with one olive.

Every Day's A Holiday (1937)

Nominated for 1 Oscar

Another Mae West film, here Charles Butterworth tells Charles Winninger, "You ought to get out of those wet clothes and into a dry martini." This famous phrase was repeated in 'The Major and The Minor' (1942) - when Robert Benchley asks Ginger Rogers, "why don't you get out of that wet coat and into a dry martini".

Dark Victory (1939)

Nominated for 3 Oscars

Bette Davis favours the 'Pink Gin' cocktail in this film. Here's how to drink like Bette:

1. Swish 3 dashes of Agnostura Bitters around a chilled martini glass.

2. Pour in 2 measures of chilled gin.

3. Drink.

Casablanca (1942)

Winner of 3 Oscars, Nominated for a further 5 Oscars

Rick (Humphrey Bogart): "Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine."

Dr. No (1962)

Winner of 1 Golden Globe

You knew it was coming - Bond, James Bond. The classic "Shaken, not stirred" line was first mentioned in 1962's 'Dr. No', but not ordered by Bond himself until 'Goldfinger' in 1964. Of course we all know that this 'ere is a vodka martini - two words which shouldn't really be placed together, in our opinion.

Withnail & I (1987)

Withnail (Richard E Grant): "Two large gins, two pints of cider. Ice in the cider."

Vanilla Sky (2001)

Nominated for 1 Oscar, 2 Golden Globes, and 1 Grammy

Sofia (Penelope Cruz): "I think she's the saddest girl to ever hold a martini."

Our Lady in Havana

2010-01-23T17:34:00.001Z

Heading optimistically for Cuba, a nation of rum drinkers, this lady felt like a modern day crusader. By the end of her secret mission the locals would be drinking gin. Armed with a few key Spanish phrases - Si, Ginebra, Gin-Tonic and 'Te pido disculpas por mi comportamiento de anoche' she was feeling pretty confident.

A trip to the Museo del Ron in Havana confirmed suspicions, we were about as likely to stumble out and find a branch of Starbucks as to discover that gin had overtaken rum in popularity. But when in Rum...a tour followed in this heavily branded Havana Club 'museum' (looked like a bar to us) and attached shop and we felt it our duty to try Havana Club 7 anejos . Not one for mojitos, this is a feisty sort to be sipped straight and savoured.

I hopped into the back of a 1955 Blue Plymouth and was whisked across town to Hotel Nacional. Sipping a G&T on the lawn I reflected this Communist lark wasn't all bad. Good intentions followed and a trip to the local shop proved there is a small demand for gin. An assortment of lesser known brands and only one bottle of Beefeater left...

I stumbled into a bar to contemplate this evidence of an underground gin drinking network. I perused the cocktail menu. It would appear that mojitos cost around £1.50 while a gin was around a fiver. The ladies of the lane are nothing if not frugal. A two week fiesta followed, memories of salsa, thick cigar smoke and the smell of fresh mint - Gin darling, it was just the once and I was thinking about you all the time.

P.S. If you are heading there soon, bring us gals back a Cohiba each and a bottle of Havana Club Barrel Proof. Just for research purposes of course.

Me, my gin and I

2010-01-06T21:12:00.002Z

Abandoned. This seems the only real way to describe my present situation. How dare the other two ladies go on holiday? I could perhaps bear the pain if I knew they were having a dreadful time, holed up in some primitive lean-to at a budget Butlins spin-off. Alas no, Vietnam and Cuba I'm sure are wholly fabulous. Well whoop-dee-doo.

I miss them so, it's quite difficult to avoid imagining one's life as a teary montage, with Celine Dion's 'All By Myself' on repeat. Of course, this could be an opportunity to explore a life outside of the Gin Lane bubble, to amuse oneself in the company of others... so to speak (damn those ginnuendos). But no, I am an independent lady, not in a Beyonce way, but independent nonetheless. Let's do this properly.

In my kitchen has been sat a bottle of Miller's Westbourne Strength gin for quite some time. To this point, I've been apprehensive to try it. One of only a handful of 'super premium' gins on the market - those with an ABV of over 45% - Miller's Westbourne Strength sits patiently, safe in its 45.2% ABV knowledge that it will most certainly get me entirely titted. Tanqueray No. 10, a rival at a staggering 47.3% ABV, knows this too. It's seen me, holding desperately to the edge of bars, in the all-consuming fear that my face will soon be swiftly and inelegantly introduced to the floor.

But look. There are no bars here, nor are there people. The potential embarrassment of disgracing oneself in a drunken way is all but completely removed when drinking at home, is it not? And, I can wear my Christmas slippers to boot. The perfect opportunity - the ladies will wish they had stayed.

Miller's Westbourne is the big brother to the much loved Miller's Gin - itself a delightful premium gin, most excellently suited to a Martini, FYI - and the the little brother of the cripplingly strong Miller's Gin 10th Anniversary Strength (54% ABV!) which was rated the best gin in the world no less, by the Beverage Tasting Institute. On first sniff, Miller's Westbourne is a rich, rooty specimen, not so much screaming 'GIN' at you, but rather singing it in a deep, manly baritone voice. You'd like Miller's Westbourne to be in a musical. It'd scoop you up in its big, strong arms and carry you off into the sunset in the final scene. Miller's Gin, in comparison, is far more citrussy, more of a tenor of a man. He'd probably just send you an email or something.

It is in a gin and tonic (two parts tonic to one part gin, please) that Miller's Westbourne triumphs. Mixed, as I did, with Fever Tree tonic, and a good chunk of lime, it has a richness that many gins lack. Gone is the hairsprayish twang present in so many gins, replaced by a velvety thickness that demands you have another and kick off your festive slippers.

A perfect gin to drink alone, if needs must. And I only played Celine ONCE. Or twice...

END OF DECADE DISPATCH (STOP)

2009-12-31T21:57:00.001Z

Brockmans: Make mine a big one

2009-12-16T10:35:00.002Z

Phwoar..

Us ladies adore receiving the odd surprise through our letterbox, and we were simply overcome one morning when we came across a bottle of Brockmans standing erect, awaiting us in all its slick-bottled glory.

Brockmans has had a bit of a pounding by the gin purists. Kevan Crosthwaite, the big daddy of Brockmans, believed he could create an edgy gin that could be enjoyed long and late into the night with friends. As you can imagine such late night debauchery is quite a departure for ladies like we, so in order to rise to the occasion I called upon the services of one of the most upstanding gentlemen of the east London scene, a certain Mr Russ Tannen, and thrust myself into his care.

It was getting late and so we got down to business. I poured slowly, we were both enraptured as we watched the smooth aromatic gin flow down into the nether regions of our highballs, mingling with the ice and ripe lime wedges. Next it was the tonic which, aided by Russ’ firm yet gentle touch, gushed forth into my receptacle.

He had a stiff one, I had a wet one. We both noted the ripe burst of blueberry and blackberry this cheeky little gin offered up in olfactory foreplay. We could barely ignore it. Not a London Dry, Brockmans feels more like an Old Tom. It’s sweet, fruity even, and we experimented. Straight up, over ice, this way, that way... The later it got the more insatiable we became.

The morning after, and the air was still thick with the heady mix of Brockmans and Marlboro Reds. We arose. We looked at each other nervously. Was it all just a dream? I asked him to fill me in. He couldn’t. I blushed, removed the ash from my hair, delicately inserted myself onto a 149 bus and journeyed home, 6 limes lighter.

Brockmans is available at TheDrinksShop.com. The Ladies advise practicing safe drinking - Always wear stomach protection.

Under the Ginfluence

2009-12-14T21:11:00.003Z

There has been something resembling a three week delay on this post due to rather a run of bad luck for the ladies. Doctor's prescription for the gloom: Gin by mouth.

That is our half hearted attempt at saying better late than never as we proceed to tell you about the gin ladies' "missing week".

Under the good ginfluence of Craig Harper and his friend Emma (rum and gin expert) we went on a bar hop round town; quick cocktails at Just St. James, then on to the infinitely better Dukes. An institution. A warm welcome from Alessandro, what followed can only be described as effortless magician style mixing and the consumption of delicious, giant martinis on empty stomachs. Ian Fleming discovered the martini here apparently. We discovered a cashew shaped like a penis. Ladies and gentlemen we can only apologise. These things find us. However, if you enjoy that type of smut we can highly recommend the Knoblog. Less said about that the better, back to gin.

Next stop was a party for gin doyenne Geraldine Coates. She launched her new book The Mixellany Guide to Gin which proves to be a great little gincylopedia of brands, history, botanicals and recipes. The great and good of the gin world were out in force, the location was the beautiful Georgian cellars of Berry Bros & Rudd and most importantly we drank the soon to be launched No 3 St James London Dry Gin a Berry Bros own brand. When Geraldine says this is a classic, we think she's right. 46% ABV ourselves by this point, we stumbled, signed books in hand, to an unnamed pub. Unnamed only because things were a little hazy at this point.

We scooped up the dapper cocktail expert Jay Hepburn and headed for more cocktails at Quo Vadis alongside a spot of light pool playing. As we're ladies we won't say who won, but in a private joke sort of a way - Craig and Jay there is a promise never to mention the f-word in your most excellent company and promise to selves to eat something before drinking 8 gins next time round...

Race you to the deep end!

2009-12-10T13:30:00.007Z

And so: to 33 Portland Place for the Ladies of the Lane, the temporary and extraordinary home of the Courvoisier Architectural Punchbowl. Created by the brilliantly bonkers Bompas & Parr, the Punchbowl is a drinkable installation – the very best kind, I believe. So overwhelmed were we by the idea of 4,000 litres of Booze that we didn’t really mind the plastic aprons or hairnets…

A rare glimpse at the true identities of the Ladies of the Lane as we titted about in hairnets

The Emperor’s Shrub is indeed a fine cocktail, created by Joe McCanta of Saf, with assistance from the really very lovely Alex James, Punch Sampler, sorry ‘Taste Consultant’ Extraordinaire (how does one get a job like that? I know some Ladies who would be perfect.) Always health conscious, we were delighted to find actual fruit in our drinks, plus a delicate spice that was positively Christmassy (just 15 days to go until the biggest annual excuse to get totally titted).

And as to the experience itself? Well. If you could avoid the presence of the inevitable Slutty Slutbag who managed to position herself ever so delicately on the orange float within the bowl whilst many men took pictures (you know there’s always one), it was really rather fun. None of the Ladies were brave enough to board the orange float itself (it looked slightly precarious, and one must preserve one’s modesty at all costs), but we had a jolly nice chat with a rather handsome barman sat on the side of the bowl itself, and entertained ourselves by willing someone to fall in. I won’t dwell on the less than salubrious stuck-in-the-80’s hotel that the Ladies went on to for a double Tanqueray and tonic, but suffice it to say that it was late when we got home and the night bus was frightful.

The whole thing is also rather virtuous as proceeds go to charity AND it has real historic precedent: in 1694, a gargantuan punchbowl was created by a true innovator with booze, Admiral Edward Russell, complete with serving boy in a boat. Admiral, we salute you (and will overlook the fact that you married your own cousin. Ho hum).

We do applaud the Bompas & Parr approach to the alcoholic beverage – it’s not so much about drinking it as submersing oneself in it – becoming One With The Booze if you will. Their Alcoholic Architecture project with Hendrick's saw the first ‘walk-in’ drink – a vaporised gin and tonic no less. Now why don’t they bottle that and sell it complete with nose-bag? I’d buy one.

For all these good things, Bompas, Parr, we think that you are very clever indeed and would like to be invited to all your parties please.

Towards a Drunken State

2009-12-07T19:44:00.001Z

We've seen the future, and the future is in Dalston.

Well, at least for one night this weekend it was anyhow. Off up the Kingsland Road we ventured on Saturday night to Towards a Fluid State; a food and drink experience held in an ex-motor something or other, complete with exposed brickwork, slightly frightening alley entrance and a glorious feel of the unfinished which we ladies find so very appealing.

In its essence, Towards a Fluid State is a trade fair, but this is a far from accurate description. Are you welcomed to The Good Food Show by 6'5" harajuku-style drag queens? Do you have the pleasure of watching rather niche, semi-naked performance art at Taste London? No, of course not. And that's because to draw comparisons between these fluorescent-lit-forty-something-fests and Towards a Fluid State is ridiculous.

As you wander through the venue, you can stop off at various points of your journey for a 'fluid encounter' - which, by the way, we feel is a charming new term for getting off one's tits. These encounters were each based around matching a boozy drink (sake, cognac, wine, whiskey and GIN) with taster-sized morsels of the highest quality foods, from foodmongers such as Saf, La Fromagerie and Bacchus to name but a few.

Now, I wish I could tell you much, much more about the standard of the sake or the credibility of the cognac, but truth be told as soon as the words 'gin room' hit my eardrums that was where I was. And what better place to spend an evening, surrounded by a good old-fashioned feast prepared by Bacchus (pork belly stuffed with black pudding, roast chicken, roast potatoes, meat-in-meat-in-meat), being ladled glasses of Hot Gin Punch by the wonderful Sam from Sipsmith while the air was gently filled with baroque loveliness from live harp and flute. This was all followed by a 'Reverse Gimlet' using Haymans' new 1820 Gin Liqueur, and a superb molecular gin cocktail made by none other than JJ Goodman of London Cocktail Club, which used Williams Chase Distillery's brand new apple based gin, which launched that very day!

Towards a Fluid State is the brainchild of Hayley Sudbury and Angella Newell of The Tasting Sessions, and we certainly cannot wait for what they come up with next.

Streamlining in high spirits

2009-12-04T12:23:00.003Z

Tatty Devine Gilbert & George Gin Cufflinks - available at culturelabel.com

Fresh from our travels we Ladies have proven that we will happily travel great distances, to the other side of the world and back if need be, in search of a fine gin. That said, we of course welcome the prospect of a shorter commute, and when we were kindly invited along to Bibulous last week we were delighted at the prospect of stomping the sodden streets of SE1 with one of our chums from the CultureLabel gang... a little closer to home than Gin Gin.

Sponsored by The Drinks Shop, billed as ‘The Drinks Experience’ and held within one of the spaces of the sprawling Vinopolis, Bibulous was a pop-up paradise of alcoholic delight. Without teetering more than 10 metres in any one direction we were afforded the luxury of sampling exceptional wines, whiskeys, rums, vodkas and tequilas alike. The clear highlight of course was the Gin Tasting Masterclass held by the Grande Dame of gin, and the lady behind the exceptional Gin Time, Geraldine Coates.

In the spirit of streamlining one’s activities, The Drink Shop and CultureLabel will be the only places we venture this side of Christmas. The Drink Shop stocks a mouth-watering array of gins (yes yes, and other spirits, but with 71 gins on offer who needs anything else?!), and why mix with the riff-raff on Oxford Street when you can purchase the most cultural of gifts at the click of a button on CultureLabel?

All that’s left to do now is to sit back with a cold Martini and bask in the warm glow of our own virtuousness. It is ruddy cold out there after all.

Gin Garden...ing Leave

2009-11-30T07:44:00.003Z

Feeling confident after our surprise Australian gin discovery, we used our best research techniques and typed the words 'gin' and 'Sydney' into Google. You know, just to see what would happen. The result was far better than expected. While there is no bar in London (as far as we know) that is proud enough to call itself a gin bar, in Sydney we stumbled off the flight and straight into the Gin Garden. A veritable oasis with tall bamboos, exposed bricks, classical columns and, what's this? The Australian Bombay Sapphire Design Discovery Awards entries displayed around the bar. Bombay Sapphire, we simply must stop bumping into each other like this, people will think there is something going on!

We pride ourselves on our noses for gin, and we're pretty good at sniffing out a party too - we'd turned up on the evening of the awards dinner where the winner was being announced by Maarten Baas. By this point my companion had retired to bed... a lady alone in a gin bar? There was only one thing for it.

First step was to meet the utterly charming barman Pete. This is also getting slightly absurd, are 9 out of 10 barmen who prefer gin called Pete? He proved knowledgeable, a dab hand with a cocktail shaker, and we kicked off with a Gimlet to break the ice. Pete's favourite cocktail is the Martini, but rather enjoys making the 'Aviation' and his favourite gin is Martin Millers.

This lady returned to a table with a good view of the design and was soon joined by a small group of Aussies, including one lady whose Surrey accent returned on speaking to another Pom, a producer chap, and a lady who I was reliably informed used to be the stunt double for Xena Warrior Princess...

I digress.. The winner was announced shortly after - Peppered Sunlight by Rohan Nicol. To celebrate, a Blush was demolished, then a Tom Collins and then this lady was forced to wend her way home via a certain takeaway which put the kybosh on her original plan to have a late night sophisticated Collins Clover cocktail in Zeta Bar, who serve speciality vintage cocktails in vintage glassware! We also love the sound of their vintage cocktail nights and their Heston-inspired experimental cocktails!

Next time, next time...

More Moore's please barkeep

2009-11-22T22:12:00.002Z

Arriving in Airlie Beach this particular lady was described as looking a little bit like "Anna Wintour entering a crack house" by her traveling companion. Expected beach bars, gentle candlelight, seafood and cocktails she was greeted by something more like Ibiza Uncovered. Kebab shops; check. Loud music from the nineties; check. Boozed up Brits; check. The breakfast cafes even committed the unforgivable sin of mentioning the H word... Hangovers should neither be seen nor heard and if you must have one it should be managed discreetly with a headscarf, large sunglasses and pleasant company.

Heading for the infamous Rum Bar we resisted the temptation to work our way though over 90 rums and against all the odds we were in luck! The bar had run out of the house gin so we were treated to an Australian concoction - Moore's Vintage Dry Gin.

Yes, the barman made it rocket-fuel strength, but this was a delicious gin flavoured with Australian botanicals, many from New South Wales where this gin is distilled. Juniper of course, combined with lemon, lime and more unusually plum and myrtle. And because we're gin geeks we like the fact Distiller Philip Moore is a herb expert and worked his way through 250 herbs before he settled on these 7. We tried it with tonic, and if we hadn't been nudged the wrong side of tipsy by the sun and the strength, we definitely would have gone on to try a Moore's Martini.

This gin is truly scrumptious, and we made our way back to Sydney with a bottle for the road.

(and for the final instalment - our Lady in Oz travels back to Sydney to prop up the bar at the Bombay Sapphire Design Discovery Awards!)

The Long Road to Gin Gin

2009-11-16T12:35:00.003Z

Is there anywhere the intrepid Ladies of the Lane won't go in search of gin? This time Australia beckoned, and as well as the usual hot sunny beaches, the chucking of shrimps on barbies and messing about on boats, one lady spent a significant amount of time on the hunt for gin.

Gin round-up-down-under? Well.

Gordon's on the plane, Gordon's in the hotel bar (truthfully, the only novelty here was the fondly remembered old red and yellow packaging last seen in the UK many moons ago), Tanqueray and Hendrick's available in most bars, a worrying trend toward pre-mixed Gordon's in bottles. Sorry Gordon's, we love you, but this tasted more like a Jif and Tonic...

The perfect Martini sipping opportunity arose whilst watching a silent Three Musketeers in The Majestic - a glorious 1920s theatre in isolated Pomona. Alas, this Lady had learned her lesson and refused a pre-mixed can of G&T, but if the wonderful Ron who played the accompanying organ is reading this; we'd love vintage cocktails next time.

And finally, was a trip to the temptingly named Gin Gin necessary? Saved by Google we discovered Gin Gin wasn't the town of dreams with gin pouring from the taps like water, but an Aboriginal term for thick red soil. Nasty soil and tonic situation averted, and the search for gin continued further north...

(stay tuned for the further adventures of our Lady in Oz...)

Martin Miller, Agatha Christie and Roger Moore walked into a bar...

2009-11-05T23:25:00.002Z

The Ladies of the Lane left their usual East End haunts and headed 'up West' on Wednesday to make their debut appearance into the wonderful world of Martin Miller's Gin, at the breathtaking Miller's Residence. Martinis were of course the order of the day at this masterclass led by the charming and insanely knowledgeable Craig Harper, and we proceeded to enjoy a taster menu of Martinis through the ages. Martin Miller himself popped in to welcome us, and explain a little about the 10-year story of his very own gin.

It felt a lot like the start of a house party in an Agatha Christie, and the cast included a classic English gent in tweed, The 'Reverend' Rum, a Roger Moore (Bond years!) look-a-like and some impossibly pretty French girls. We took our seats at the huge dining table and were immediately presented with Martini number one - a 'Martini De Lux' - which demonstrated the somewhat divine ratio of seven parts Martin Miller's gin to one part Noilly Prat dry vermouth.

Craig was assisted in his cocktail making by members of the party, and one of the Ladies, though slightly flustered, was delighted to be taught how to make a 'Harry's Dry Martini' (Martin Miller's, Noilly Prat dry, Peychaud bitters, Curacao), although her 'dash' technique left little to be desired.

Now, after Mr Wynd offered his penis up for perusal earlier this week, we had hoped to avoid any further impropriety. However, the Ladies seem to attract this sort of naughtiness and sure enough a gentleman to our right took advantage of a silence and asked poor Mr Harper what his views were on 'rimming'. Of course he meant running a lime around the top of the glass, but the ladies could not quite look him in the eye for the rest of the evening. Our desire to remain composed was not aided at this point by impending squiffiness and a growing propensity toward uncontrolled giggling.

We ended the evening with a 'Super Dry Martini Doble'. Alas, this heady, double-measure gin and absinthe mixture proved, ultimately, to be the murder weapon.

(Pst.. Book yourself on to one of these masterclasses AT ONCE! Visit Martin's website for more info...)

Spirit forces at work at the Hendrick's Quarterly Seance

2009-11-02T23:11:00.006Z

Is anybody there? We're getting a name. It's, it's... it's Hendrick's. We never miss the chance to channel spirits, so earlier this very evening the Ladies were in attendance at the Hendrick's Quarterly Seance, held at the Little Shop of Horrors, the Last Tuesday Society's bonkers headquarters in east London.

You may recall our last brush with the cross-dressing, cucumber-wielding, glory-holed Last Tuesday Society bunch at the Hendrick's masked ball back in September. This encounter was no less strange, held in the esteemed Viktor Wynd's showroom; a jumble of mutilated soft toys, animal skeletons, mummified penises and other such glorious tat. All available to purchase, for that perfect stocking filler for Nan.

After a warm greeting from Mr Wynd himself, and a generous offer to see his penis (see 'mummified' above, thank heavens), we were led into a back room by Professor Richard Wiseman and swiftly transported, via a double Hendrick's and tonic, to a reenactment of a Victorian seance. Sat in total darkness, guided only by little glow-in-the-dark stickers on the incongruous selection of objects scattered on the table, we marveled as our new spirit friend 'Marie' touched the bell (snigger), moved the maracas (chortle) and had a good old play with the ball (snort).

Keep your eye out for more loony goings-on on the Last Tuesday Society website. Reckon we might stick to the alcoholic spirits from now on though.

Artache at the Art Fairs

2009-10-23T17:12:00.001+01:00

That Liara, she’s a right bitch. She stole the summer romance sailor man from the arms of one of the Ladies, and appears not to be returning him any time soon. It has been a week of quite considerable heartache for the Ladies. We’ve already lost warm evenings, al fresco drinking and skirts with no tights. Losing the sailor was the last straw. Add the booziest week in the London art calendar, a fistful of private view invites and a voracious appetite for alcohol to this melancholy mix and it should be quite apparent why we’ve only risen from the fug a week later.

Of course, there are many fine reviews available for your consumption, whether Zoo does it for you or it’s Frieze that floats your boat (sob). Art is all fine and lovely, but what could we drink? Not gin, apparently.

At Frieze we got ourselves into an awful lot of trouble consuming approximately 47 Makers Mark cocktails between three of us. One Lady needed convincing that casual glassware theft would not be the best idea of the evening, while another perfected her stumbling technique with new addition of the ’100 meter shoe fling’. The Whitechapel Gallery was all Tovaritch Vodka cocktails, then at Zoo we hung out in a super cool way with our super cool artist friend Jason Wallis-Johnson and quaffed Perrier-Jouët Champagne. By this point more than 48 hours had passed by without so much as a sniff of mother’s ruin, so we were forced to visit the bar and BUY (imagine!) a few G&Ts to ease the pain.

Gin brands, where are you all? Save us from this whiskey and vodka absurdity!

Wet Martinis and Dark Arts at Hawksmoor

2009-10-16T17:12:00.004+01:00

We don’t need to tell you about Hawksmoor. We don’t need to tell you that they serve up life-changing, mind-bogglingly good steak. Steak so good, in fact, that one of the Ladies of the Lane, who describes herself as ‘practically vegetarian’ broke her life-long no-red-meat rule on the premises. No, we don’t need to tell you any of that. Although the temptation remains to re-brand immediately as Beef Lane, we want to tell you about gin.

Hawksmoor is one of the many fine establishments which participated in the Beefeater 24 & Time Out London promotion back in September. Tap your details in and get two free Beefeater 24 cocktails you say? Oh, go on then. The cocktail list at the unassuming bar tucked to the side of the equally unassuming restaurant is the equivalent of Gin Drinker’s porn, with a considerable lean toward the classics – gin, brandy and rum.

It was difficult to know where to begin, but when one finds oneself in such demanding situations, one must bravely soldier on. A quiet Thursday night cocktail soon turned into an impromptu masterclass, and we were gallantly helped every step/stagger of the way by the dashing barman Pete (vital gintistics: height - 6’4”; favourite gin - Beefeater 24, of course).

Particular favourites included the French 75 (gin, lemon, sugar, Champagne) which was dubbed ‘the perfect cocktail for getting engaged to a billionaire’ by one newly-carnivorous Lady, and a wet 24 Martini, which was borne from the challenge ‘make me the perfect Martini’, and skilfully created through the mixture of Beefeater 24 gin, orange bitters and Noilly Prat Ambre, finished with grapefruit and I’m fairly certain some form of actual magic. The roll-call of cocktails consumed also included; Aviation, Hawksmoor Fizz, Martinez, Lambeth Lemonade and then, we fear, some shots, some macaroni cheese, and, you know, some Chateaubriand. And after that we can’t remember.

Go there at once and order a Wet 24 Martini. And a medium-rare, 900g Chateaubriand on the side.

Does my Bombay Sapphire look big in this?

2009-09-30T23:59:00.002+01:00

Another schizophrenic week for the Ladies of the Lane, as we lord it about London in our various guises. Last week saw us embracing world-class design - it was London Design Festival after all - at the Bombay Sapphire Designer Glass competition awards. Gin and culture are two of our favourite things, and when the two combine, quite frankly we don't know what to do with ourselves.

It got too much for one of the Ladies, who packed her bags and jetted off to Roma. Yours truly, however, managed to keep composed long enough to toddle on down to The Blue Rooms to take a peek at the short-listed designs and research (ahem) some cocktails.

The venue is a portion of the vast underbelly of Vinopolis on Stoney Street, bathed in that unmistakable sapphire blue. Hypnotically so. Ten minutes in and I began to wonder if I had missed the memo, and I should in fact have worn something a little more on-brand. Not letting this minor outfit mishap faze me, I systematically worked through all four of the delicious Bombay Sapphire cocktails on offer (most notably an excellent Sapphire Collins, and a 'Vine'), before the clock struck nine and my (tube) carriage awaited me.

The prestigious award went to German designer Bruno Everling, and his mesmerising 'Liquid Sapphire' glass. And deservedly so - we'd be more than happy to sip our Bombay Sapphire from such a thing of beauty. Or, you know, a plastic cup. As long as it holds gin, really.

Masks obligatory, clothes optional, Hendrick's essential

2009-09-20T16:29:00.033+01:00

Burlesque, bondage, feathers, cross-dressing, glory holes, taxidermy, cucumbers and cheeseboards - words not commonly associated with a Saturday night in the Square Mile. Thankfully the only cucumbers were in our Hendrick's and tonics, but the rest were in abundance, as was the gin, at the Hendrick's September Masked Ball at Stonehorse Paper Cow.

Thrown by The Last Tuesday Society, which is headed up by the mysterious masters of the ball Viktor Wynd and Suzette Field, we partied alongside a curious demographic of bemasked Londoners from the sublime to the ridiculous. Flapper girls and tweed-suited horses, 7-foot-tall ladies and semi-naked gentlemen alike made their way to the Bishopsgate venue to show off their skills, mask-making or otherwise.

The Ladies took it all in their stride - debauchery is a theme not uncommon in our world. Nonetheless, ladies we are, so we stuck to the G&Ts, set about demolishing the cheeseboard in earnest, and at the end of the night walked (ok, maybe staggered a little) away with our dignity and clothing intact. Although, a vague memory lingers of a potentially embarassing mise en scene involving a stuffed cheetah, an Italian male model and a bunch of grapes that we'd really rather forget. Good job we purchased the jpegs, huh?

From Dusk ‘til Dawn (well, quite late, for a school night)…

2009-09-12T23:23:00.018+01:00

The Ladies of the Lane spent a most enjoyable evening of gin based debauchery at Bombay Sapphire’s Dusk Bar, Somerset House this week. Though a tad dubious at the prospect of being taught about drinking gin (which has always come naturally I must say), I was pleasantly persuaded by the first cocktail of the evening – a Collins. Followed swiftly by a dry Martini or three, mixed by the Ladies themselves (taught by the VERY entertaining barman Sam), and then a Cinnamon Swirl to finish.

No less than five gin cocktails, snacks to soak up a little booze and a party bag full of beautiful blue cocktail tat is well worth an investment of just twenty English pounds to my mind, not to mention the large bottle of (yes, you've guessed it) Bombay Sapphire we won in the competition.

We probably didn’t need the last two cocktails of the evening but what the hey, we weren’t counting. And it seemed rude not to quite frankly.

Strong or not-too-strong? That is the question.

2009-08-24T09:57:00.006+01:00

I'm writing from the beautiful Cretan town of Hania, or Χανιά to be precise. This, apparently, roughly translates as 'free-pour' in English, and today I was presented with the strongest gin and tonic I have ever experienced.

Naturally, my eyes lit up upon realising that the barman practically had time to smoke the majority of his cigarette before returning the humble bottle of Gordon's to its vertical home. However, on first sip, I must admit that a strong G&T does not make for a good G&T. The pleasure of a good G&T lies mainly in its drinkability. A single shot, a small bottle of tonic (not slimline, don't be silly) and a good chunk of lime - maybe lemon - is all that is necessary for the creation of this much loved drink. If this divine ratio is tipped off balance, the drink is ruined.

As was I. Gin-zilla lasted a staggering 45 minutes before a particularly flamboyant episode of gesticulation on my part sent the glass, and its contents, to an early grave. Thank goodness. Beware the quadruple G&T!

Size does matter

2009-08-18T12:42:00.007+01:00

Marks & Sparks the grand dame of the high street is selling ping pong sized lemons from South Africa perfectly formed to fit into your G&T. We’re off to stock up – four for a pound at your local M&S! Although we've never had a problem with using a large lemon up...

Health Warning: Gin and Dubonnet may cause you to live to 101

2009-08-14T09:58:00.009+01:00

What's the perfect mixer for gin? Tonic? Why dilute the alcohol we say! Try Dubonnet and why not use the Queen Mum's recipe of 30% gin, 70% Dubonnet with a slice of lemon under the ice? She once noted before a trip, "... I think that I will take two small bottles of Dubonnet and gin with me this morning, in case it is needed..."

Ma'am, we salute you!

Handbags and Hayman's

2009-08-11T23:15:00.008+01:00

Hayman's London Dry Gin
http://www.haymansgin.com/

I often find myself at the bar with my good friend Tallulah Von Tramp - one time Paris showgirl, with the face of an angel and the mouth of a sailor. She’s been on my case since discovering I’m involved somewhat with the ladies of Gin Lane. I’ve explained many a time that this kind of scientific approach to the study of gin in its many guises requires patience, poise and restraint. Tallulah told me to ‘fuck off’, threw her cocktail at her face, complained loudly that there wasn’t enough Vodka in it, and ordered a pint of house white.

We were in a confusingly named bar in Islington. Upstairs was dark wood, low leather sofas, and felt a little like you might be in Barcelona provided you were running a temperature and squinted your eyes. Downstairs was a cavernous, semi-club affair, which involved loud electro and no people. As it was a Wednesday I opted for the only sensible choice – a Martini – featuring Hayman’s London Dry Gin in the starring role, with lead support from Noilly Prat vermouth and three green olives.

Whilst not necessarily a household name, the Hayman family is a stalwart of the gin world. The Hayman Distillers was founded in the nineteenth century by none other than James Burrough; the creator of the world famous Beefeater Gin and great Grandfather of Christopher Hayman, the current Chairman of Hayman’s. The family name has continued distilling fine gin to the present day under this name, while Beefeater Gin and James Burrough Limited were sold to Whitbread in 1987.

Hayman’s is a fine example of a London Dry Gin, and held up well against the oakiness of what many consider the Rolls Royce of vermouths. True to description, Hayman’s was light and pleasantly citrusy; a good, reliable choice for a mid-week Martini, and it would have leant itself well to tonic water and a hunk of lime. I would have obliged this urge had I not noticed my companion had inhaled her Eastern European Chardonnay and was now busily giving another girl’s shoes the evils…

Drunk for a penny, dead drunk for twopence

2009-08-06T12:59:00.001+01:00

(that rascal William Hogarth's 1751 print Gin Lane)

What is this wretched propaganda? We faithful gin drinkers know nothing of such debauched desparation. Only once have we sold an infant's clothes for a tipple, and we certainly don't make a habit of lifting our skirts on too frequent a basis.

So begone, you naysayers! Gin has class, as do the ladies and gents wot drink it. The ladies of Gin Lane are here to share with you our fabulous world, and perhaps invite you to a soiree or two.. Chin chin, darlings, see you at the bar.