Plymouth gin reminds me of my childhood. But not because I was a functioning pre-school alcoholic. I just remember family members drinking it, like my dad and grandpa.

The gathering of family at the end of the day for a gin has always had a ceremonial element to it, something that gave closure to the day and acted as a focal point for family to get together and socialise. It brought together the eldest and youngest members of the family. Children were taught how to behave, grandparents remained included in family life and everyone took time out of their day to relax and just be together. Not only was it enjoyable, it was also very important.

I specifically remember grandpa saying that at the back of the Plymouth gin label was a monk. When his feet were dry (i.e. when the level of gin has fallen below them) it was time to buy a new bottle.

I think they’ve altered the label though because when I was younger I’m sure the monk was bigger and the feet were much higher.

However, whatever the label and whatever the poison, if there was ever a time in my life I could go back to, even for a short while, it would be this time. I would love the chance to talk to some of those relatives again over a martini.