London Dry Gin

Tasting J. Rose is like attending a premiere at La Scala.
On stage, an opera for nine prestigious botanists: each with their own voice, all in one harmony. An author's distillate, written for those few spectators capable of recognizing the hand that composed it beneath the elegance. The juniper dictates the time, as it should be. The others enter one at a time.
The nose is warm and decisive: the juniper in the foreground, then the bergamot and the mandarin peel lighten it in a citrus breath that softens its momentum and makes it silky.
In his mouth he keeps his word. The citrus fruit opens, the prickly pear flowers bounce from the nose to the palate leaving a fruity trail, and on the bottom the oak bark places the wood with toasted notes of hazelnut and walnut that finish long and warm.
Forty-three degrees hold the orchestra together: the structure that makes J. Rose a gin for important cocktails, without ever losing its composure. Nine voices, one work. And when the last note fades away, the desire to listen to it again remains.