Audrey Saunders Talks Gin
An Interview With the OG Gin Goddess of the Cocktail Revival. Plus Gin Round-Up #2.
Welcome to day two of “Gin Week” at The Mix. Today, we talk to Audrey Saunders, one of the preeminent gin experts in the world. In the aughts and 2010s, if you were a bartender or reporter or enthusiast thirsty for gin knowledge, you cut a path to her trailblazing New York cocktail bar, Pegu Club.
That the bar was named Pegu Club—a pre-Prohibition gin cocktail named after the British officers club of the same name in then-Rangoon—gave you an idea of just how important gin was to Saunders. Her menu dedicated considerable real estate to other gin cocktions, both old and new. Her own creations tended to be of the gin variety, including the Gin-Gin Mule, French Pearl and Early Grey MarTEAni.
Being a gin evangelist was tough work in those early days of the cocktail renaissance. Most customers still wanted their usual vodka and soda, vodka rocks or Vodka Martini. But Saunders and her well-trained bartenders converted them all, one 50-50 gin Martini at a time.
Today, four years after Pegu Club closed its doors, Saunders remains a staunch gin advocate, with as exacting standards for her favorite spirit. We caught up with her to get her views on on the current state of gin, as well as some memories of how the gin revival all began. The interview follows.
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THE MIX: What caused you to first get interested in gin?
Audrey Saunders: It was more so being forced to become reacquainted. A bottle of gin was pretty much standard stock in many home bars on the northern shores of Long Island during the 1960s and ‘70s, and in our particular neck of the woods folks were drinking G&T’s and Martinis. As a teenager (legal drinking age was 18 back then) my palate was still pretty immature, so when I began taking my first sips of alcohol I gravitated toward sweeter drinks. One night, my friend threw a house party and his girlfriend (like most teens, had no experience mixing drinks) mixed me up a pint glass of Gin & Juice. The ratio was no joke—90% gin & 10% juice. Since I was pretty clueless with regards to the meaning of ratios, I just watched her prepare it without any understanding whatsoever of what I was about to experience. Next thing I remember was waking up on the bathroom floor in the wee hours of the morning, and at that point I swore off gin for good. Whenever my folks would mix up gin cocktails, I had to walk away, I couldn’t bear the smell it. Flash forward to 1995 when I began bartending at the Waterfront Ale House [in Brooklyn], I was put in the position of having to work with the stuff whenever I got a call for it, but certainly wasn’t going out of my way to experiment with it. Then in 1999 when Dale [DeGroff] hired me to work behind the bar with him at Blackbird, I noticed that he had a good number of gin-based drinks on the cocktail menu as well as his extended list. There was no avoiding them, and I knew that at the end of the day I was there to learn—so I decided to keep an open mind, and dive back in. In doing so I was rewarded—having the opportunity to experience a myriad of gin cocktails prepared expertly by Dale opened my eyes to the potential of what a great gin cocktail could be. They were delicious and had a depth and complexity which I had never experienced before. Mind blown. I was hooked.
THE MIX: What were your favorite gins when you first began running bars in the 1990s and aughts; and what are your favorite gins today?
AS: In my early career at The Ale House, Blackbird and Beacon restaurant, I had access to all the standard classic London Drys—Tanqueray, Beefeater, Boodles, Gordon’s, Bombay and Sapphire. I’ve always been a big fan of them as their recipes had stood the test of time, were perfectly-balanced, consistent in production, and at their core tasted great. They brought a lot to the table.
When I took the job as Beverage Director for the Tonic Restaurant downtown, I saw it as an opportunity to be able to expand upon that lineup a bit and quietly begin evangelizing. So I brought on Junipero Gin, which I really liked, and had also come across a fairly odd-looking one called Mercury Gin—it came in a gimmicky, frosted royal blue beaker-shaped bottle, but as tacky as that bottle was I remember it had a bright, fresh, juniper-forward profile which I thought was well-structured. I was given a sample of another London Dry import which newish to the U.S. It was called Broker’s Gin. I thought was an excellent gin, but in the same breath as a female I was offended by their marketing promo which I felt was low-class and against the current of a spirits category I was attempting to elevate. The bottle top was a British Bowler’s hat, and in keeping with their slogan (“You can leave your hat on”) it was accompanied by a condom. Really? Given that level of tackiness, I had no idea if they were going to expand on that marketing angle or not so I parked it on the sidelines for a good, long while. After they toned down their marketing campaign, I brought it into inventory.
In another corner I took a chance on a quiet little gin which I had never heard of before named Plymouth (this is when Coates was still an independent distillery, years before Pernod Ricard bought them), and I fell hard for it’s gauzy yet well-knitted botanical structure. I can distinctly remember being paid a visit at the bar by a tall, strapping British gent by the name of Nick Blacknell a few months after ordering it. He sat down, introduced himself and as he shook my hand he said, “I want to thank you.” I asked why, and he said, “Because you are our very first account in New York City.” I thought it was an outstanding gin and Nick was authentic, gracious and very passionate about Plymouth’s rich history and production methods. It was like an oasis to meet another person so passionate about gin. Given that, I was very happy to support and remember that milestone fondly to this day. On the next representative visit by Plymouth, Nick sent someone in his place—a young guy by the name of Simon Ford, who also shared the same passion for gin, and we quickly became comrades at arms. After befriending both Nick and Simon and experiencing their zealousness for all things gin, I knew I needed to get to the UK to experience more. That dream came to life in the form of an invitation from Simon to visit the Plymouth Distillery. I would eventually also come to meet both Sean Harrison (Plymouth’s Master Distiller) and Desmond Payne, Beefeater’s Master Distiller. We all spent countless hours in conversation together, and they supported me with whatever I needed in my quest to evangelize gin. Those were some of the very best of times, and those four wonderful gents became both mentors and family to me.
“A good gin needs to achieve a balance of all the flavors together as a whole, provide depth, complexity, as well as a nice, crisp, long finish like a Babe Ruth home run that got knocked out of the park.”—Audrey Saunders
In 2024, I still gravitate to many of those same gins that I began with, although getting into the game before the cocktail renaissance began has been something of a private hell. Over the years I’ve noticed profile changes in a number of them, and not necessarily for the better, which has been pretty soul-crushing for me. My motto for over a decade now has been, “Beware the package change”—it strikes me as more of a distraction from the recipe alteration of the actual distillate. Anytime I become aware of one I immediately pick up a new bottle and taste it alongside its former predecessor. Sure enough, nine times out of ten I can detect a formula change. If it happens to be a personal favorite, I then find myself running from store to store on a lunatic’s quest to seek out the old packaging, and I grab up as much of it as I can find. Because once it’s gone, it’s gone, and you’ll never have the pleasure of being able to taste that old fave again.
When the formula changes, it’s obviously going to extend into a cocktail spec, and that REALLY SUCKS. Because now, that drink is simply never, ever going to taste the same anymore, regardless of umpteen attempts at a workaround. And it’s much more dramatic and pronounced, though, with gin, as the very core and soul of its flavor profile depends entirely on the distiller’s particular blend of botanicals. Take for instance, lemon peel. Aside from lemon’s other characteristics as a botanical, it also contributes dryness and length of finish on the palate. So, then what happens when a distiller reduces the degree of lemon in a formula? It might not provide the degree of intensity (i.e., a crisp, lingering finish) that it once did. Yet you can remember the particular magic it brought to a drink, and that’s where the heartache lies. Your palate feels shortchanged.
In cooking, think of brands that offer both regular sodium and “low sodium” options. Big difference, right? Wish it were easy enough to remedy by simply adding some salt, but it’s not. The first time I experienced it I was sitting at a table at Pegu catching up with an old friend of mine. We had a new bartender in service, and I ordered a couple of gin cocktails for both of us. When the drinks landed tableside, I took one sip and immediately noticed how “off” it tasted. I went into the service well, and it had nothing to do with that new bartender, they had made it exactly to spec. Then I noticed the bottle, and remembered it had gone through a fairly recent package change. Fast forward to an event I attended where I happened to see the distiller of that particular gin. I made the decision to ask them about it, and that person responded with, “When did you notice it?” I said after xyz package change.
And while I was saddened by the confirmation, I had to appreciate their candor when they said, “You are the only person that I’ve spoken with who actually noticed it.”
That said, it’s not just gin. I’ve personally experienced a number of fairly dramatic formula changes across all categories of spirits over the last 15 years. At this point I’d say probably 85+% of the Pegu’s entire spirits inventory has changed.
I still work with a number of those old London Drys, along with Junipero and even Broker’s. I also like Sipsmith, Ford’s and [Beefeater] 24 very much; a lot of thought and care went into them and they have not changed.
THE MIX: Where do you think the gin world stands today, as opposed to, say, 2005, where you opened Pegu Club?
AS: All these years later, gin has finally earned its rightful place in the Bartender’s toolbox. After what we had to endure to actually get people to even try it, who would have thought that we’d ever even see the day. That everyone now takes it for granted gives me a great deal of quiet satisfaction. I’m very, very, VERY content knowing that the category has finally taken permanent root and is here to stay.
THE MIX: What do you think of such recent phenomenons as pink gins and citrus gins?
AS: The only Pink Gin I’d ever acknowledge is the British Royal Navy’s recipe. We’re old friends.
As far as citrus gin goes, I think it depends on who’s behind it. I haven’t had it in a few years now but I remember when Jared Brown first tasted me on a new bottling he had just released—Sipsmith’s Lemon Drizzle—it was so good that I was in danger of revisiting my house party moment.
THE MIX: What does a gin need to be/do in order to earn a place in your home bar?
AS: It needs to be a good, clean distillate and contain a thoughtful selection of botanicals which all have an affinity for one another. The botanicals need to well-structured—they need to work together in harmony, they need to have a synchronicity between them. And it can’t stop there… while a particular bottling can have a great botanical selection, too much of this or not enough of that can leave the gin out of whack and short of the mark. A good gin needs to achieve a balance of all the flavors together as a whole, provide depth, complexity, as well as a nice, crisp, long finish like a Babe Ruth home run that got knocked out of the park. These factors will allow it to play well with others. That is just happens to be delicious is a given, and its ability to exalt a cocktail is, of course, expected.
A favorite clip of Saunders’ from the 1976 comedy “Spanish Fly,” starring Terry-Thomas.
And now for today’s round-up of Gin Reviews: