In Defense of the Gin and Tonic
No offense to Snoop, but I think he could do better than Seagram's gin.
Snoop Dogg was wrong. It’s hard for me to write that sentence. After typing it out I immediately wanted to delete it, using the backspace key to send it into the cyber-beyond. But, being the bold and brave person that I am, I kept it in. Just because something is scary doesn’t mean it’s not true. So, after all that preamble, what the hell do I mean when I say, “Snoop Dogg was wrong?” Can’t let my readers down by not putting forth a clear and concise thesis. A simple, but powerful statement about one of rap’s pioneers. Wouldn’t want to waste their precious time with unnecessary filler, an unwieldly preface, or ungraceful phrasing. So, I’ll just add an extra clause to my opening sentence. Snoop Dogg was wrong, gin and juice isn’t that great.
Of course, after dropping that bombshell, I’m going to want to cover some of my bases. So, let me state this clearly. There is much wisdom contained in the song “Gin & Juice.” I do not wish to refute it completely. Who am I to try and do such a thing? No, I simply wish to rebut the idea that the best gin-based drink is the proverbial “Gin and Juice.” In fact, with apologies to The Doggfather, the best gin-based cocktail is the simple, the wonderful, the beautiful, the fresh, “Gin and Tonic.”
I don’t particularly remember when I had my first gin and tonic. Probably in college. I won’t investigate my memories any further as both my parents read this and there’s no need to trouble their pretty little minds about whether or not I was twenty-one years of age when I first consumed said cocktail. Hello, mother and father. What I am sure of is that the gin in said G&T was certainly some sort of bottom-shelf rot gut that would be better used as a juniper scented cleaning solution than something a human would willingly put into their system. But I was *21* so who knew what I was thinking. I used to eat upwards of 21 chicken strips when it was “Chicken Strip” night in the cafeteria. I was very dumb in college is what I’m trying to explain.
Even though my alcohol consumption habits, and purchasing power, have changed since college, my love of gin and tonics has not left me. In many ways it’s the perfect drink. Multi-seasonal, simple, and endlessly adaptable, it’s hard to find a better cocktail. Of course, I don’t want to pretend like I’m some sort of Bon Appetit-hired cocktail connoisseur here. I don’t even own martini glasses. Though I do have four Moscow mule cups. Which is the second-best cocktail, but that’s neither here nor there. No, I am just a simple man with a Substack newsletter that some people read who has Opinions About Things. So, take all of this with a grain of margarita salt.
One of the main reasons why I enjoy gin and tonics is that they are incredibly easy to order. Every bar, from the dirtiest dive to your boogie West Loop mixology place, does a dang G&T. Most of ‘em even put a little lime in it for you. With a fair number of other drinks, it’s always a bit of risk. Will they have so-and-so ingredient? Does the bartender know how to make it? Is there a regional name that I need to refer to it as so that I don’t look like a tourist? Does this bar have their own “twist” on it that absolutely ruins the drink? Just too many variables to take into account when ordering a drink. Fortunately, that’s not a problem for gin and tonics. The simplicity also transfers to being at home. No need to buy a thing of Angostura bitters that you’ll use once and forget about. No need for a fancy highball glass. Don’t even need a dang shaker. This isn’t about being lazy. I enjoy a complicated drink as much as the next person. But when there’s a pandemic on I don’t feel like going to four different specialty stores searching for fruit shrub syrup or whatever.
Gin and tonic is also a perfectly reasonable drink to have at any type of year. Whether you’re sitting by a fire in the middle of winter reading Chaucer, or on a patio during the height of summer, it hits the spot. Unlike a hot toddy, which only a nihilist would drink during the summer, or an Aperol spritz, which only the gauchest of gauche would consume outside of the spring/summer, drinking a G&T rings no alarms no matter the season. As someone who often lets their taste be dictated entirely by internet fads, this is a boon for me, as I hate being untrendy. The G&T will always be on trend.
The adaptability of the G&T is another one of its benefits. When it comes to food Dang Dude is nothing if not in support of the people getting exactly what they want. Just read what I wrote about pancakes. The Gin and Tonic, while certainly having a flavor profile all of its own, provides a wonderful palette to create your own version of the drink. Want to be more like Snoop? Splash a little cranberry juice in there. Want to zhuzh up your drink? Add some of those bitters sitting in the back of your cabinet. Use a La Croix if you want. A peach-pear one would go pretty well with a nice gin, I’d imagine. If you managed to find some of that fruit shrub syrup you could even add a splash or two of that to a G&T and it’d make a great drink. Quick side note, try saying “shrub” a bunch of times in a row. It loses meaning pretty quickly.
Thus, ends my defense of the Gin and Tonic. It probably wasn’t clamoring for one, but true stans stand by their man, even when it’s not needed. I just remembered one thing I forgot to say. It’s also a perfect airplane drink. If you happen to find yourself with the extra cash needed to purchase a drink on a plane, there’s no better choice than a G and T. And that’s the Dang Dude promise.
Yet another very entertaining one, Mr. Dude, but inquiring minds demand more! After chastising Snoop—and correctly I might add—for his questionable taste in not only mixer but brand of gin, we need to your go-to choice...