The 13 Best Gins, According to a UK Clubhouse Barman

A cold gin and tonic is my desert-island drink, and I am not remotely neutral about it. My two house gins, the bottles that live within arm’s reach and get replaced the fastest, are Hendrick’s and Roku. I should say that out loud before we go a step further, because it makes me biased, and a gin guide written by someone pretending to have no favourites is lying to you from the first sentence.

I came to gin properly during Covid, and I do mean properly. Stuck at home with time to fill, I fell for it the way other people fell for sourdough, except mine stuck. In fairness, the weather that first spring had us working through an alarming amount of pink gin, which I suspect I would not touch again if you paid me. But once the pink phase mercifully passed, the gin itself stayed, and a lockdown habit quietly hardened into a genuine obsession.

There is another confession baked into my gin shelf. At some point my friends quietly worked out that turning up with a £30 bottle of gin lands just as warmly as arriving with a fine wine or a bottle of vintage Champagne, and costs a fraction of the price. I have said nothing, because I am not an idiot, and because a good £25 to £40 gin is a genuinely lovely gift. The upshot is that my cupboard has slowly filled with far more than my two defaults.

It has gone far enough that my local cricket club, Stanmore CC, has named a drink after me. The Vim & Tonic has a strict, non-negotiable build: a glass packed with ice, a lime squeezed over the top, Hendrick’s rather than the Gordon’s everyone else settles for, and Fever-Tree slimline rather than the plastic-bottle Schweppes the rest of the bar makes do with. I did not request this honour. I have simply accepted it with the seriousness it plainly deserves.

So this is my actual gin cupboard, rebuilt from scratch, with one honest idea running underneath it: there is a best gin for me, there is probably a best gin for you, and they may not be the same bottle. Gin styles vary enormously. Somebody who wants a hard, piney London Dry is not chasing the same experience as somebody who loves Hendrick’s cucumber and rose, or Roku’s quiet Japanese botanicals. So take my winner as my winner, and use the rest to find yours.

Thirteen bottles, each with what it is, how it drinks in my slimline G&T, and who it is actually for. No scores out of ten, because a number would pretend this is more objective than it is.

1. Hendrick’s Original: my house gin

Scotland · 41.4% ABV · cucumber, Bulgarian rose and 11 more botanicals

Made by William Grant & Sons in Girvan, on Scotland’s west coast, Hendrick’s is the gin that turned “cucumber and rose” into a personality. It is distilled in two very different stills and finished with cucumber and rose essence, which is why it reads as soft, floral and unmistakably itself. In a slimline G&T it goes gentle, cool and perfumed, the juniper stepping back to let that cucumber-and-rose lift do the talking. Garnish with a slice of cucumber and it sings. It is not the gin for a juniper purist, and that is exactly why it is one of my two defaults: it is an easy, refreshing, crowd-pleasing pour. Biased? Completely. Its great rival in my house is below.

2. Roku: my other house gin

Japan · 43% ABV · six Japanese botanicals including yuzu, sakura and sansho pepper

Roku is the House of Suntory’s gin, made in Japan with six Japanese botanicals, sakura flower and leaf, yuzu peel, sencha and gyokuro tea, and sansho pepper, layered over eight traditional ones. The hexagonal bottle is a nod to “roku,” meaning six. In a slimline G&T it is delicate and precise, with a bright yuzu citrus lift and a faint peppery tingle of sansho on the finish that keeps it interesting. It rewards a slice of fresh ginger or a strip of grapefruit rather than a fistful of fruit. If Hendrick’s is the soft floral one, Roku is the crisp, aromatic, slightly nerdy one, and I go back and forth between them depending on the day.

>> you can read our in-depth Roku Review here.

3. No.3 London Dry: best classic London Dry

Made in Holland for Berry Bros. & Rudd · 46% ABV · six botanicals

If you want to know what a London Dry is supposed to taste like, this is the reference. Created by the centuries-old London wine and spirit merchant Berry Bros. & Rudd and distilled in the Netherlands, No.3 keeps it deliberately simple: just six botanicals, juniper, orange peel, grapefruit peel, angelica, coriander and cardamom, and it is unapologetically juniper-led. In a slimline G&T it is clean, dry and properly piney, with a citrus edge and a whisper of cardamom spice, and it holds its shape under tonic instead of disappearing. The critics agree emphatically: it was named Spirit of the Year at the 2026 London Spirits Competition and topped the Independent’s 2026 gin test. If Hendrick’s is my heart, No.3 is the bottle I hand a sceptic to prove what real gin tastes like.

4. Bombay Sapphire: best for beginners

England · 40% ABV · ten vapour-infused botanicals

Bombay Sapphire, made by Bacardi at the striking Laverstoke Mill in Hampshire, is the blue bottle everyone recognises, and it is genuinely a smart place to start. Its trick is vapour infusion: the spirit passes as vapour through a basket of ten botanicals rather than boiling with them, which gives a lighter, more delicate result. In a slimline G&T it is soft, approachable and gently citrus-floral, with the juniper present but never aggressive. That easy, unintimidating profile is exactly why it converts people who think they dislike gin. It is not the most characterful bottle here, but it is one of the most reliable, and it makes a faultless everyday G&T.

5. Tanqueray London Dry: best all-round G&T and best value

Distilled in Scotland by Diageo · 43.1% ABV (UK) · four botanicals

Tanqueray does an enormous amount with almost nothing. It leans on just four botanicals, juniper, coriander, angelica and liquorice, and the result is one of the most singular, confident juniper notes in all of gin. In a slimline G&T it is crisp, dry and assertive, cutting cleanly through the tonic the way a classic London Dry should, and at its usual mid-£20s price it is arguably the best pound-for-pound gin on the shelf. This is the bottle I recommend when someone wants one gin that does everything well and does not want to think about it. It is the workhorse that never lets you down.

6. Beefeater London Dry: best value classic and best for a Negroni

London · 40% ABV (UK) · nine botanicals, 24-hour steep

Beefeater is one of the last major gins still distilled inside London, made by Pernod Ricard in Kennington, and it punches absurdly above its modest price. Its botanicals steep for a full 24 hours before distillation, which gives it a bold, bright, citrus-and-juniper backbone. In a slimline G&T it is fresh and zesty with real juniper spine, but its natural home is a Negroni: it has the sheer backbone to stand up to Campari and sweet vermouth without being flattened, which is where a softer gin falls apart. If you want one bottle for cocktails that costs less than a cinema ticket, this is it.

7. Tanqueray No. Ten: best for a Martini

Scotland · 47.3% ABV · fresh whole citrus and chamomile

The upmarket sibling of standard Tanqueray, No. Ten is distilled in a small still nicknamed “Tiny Ten” using fresh whole grapefruit, oranges and limes plus chamomile flowers, and it shows. It is brighter, rounder and more citrus-forward than the original, and at 47.3% it has the weight to carry a drink. This is my pick for a Martini: cold, stirred, barely kissed with vermouth, a twist of grapefruit, and that fresh-citrus lift makes it glorious. It earned a top Gold Outstanding medal at the 2026 IWSC, and it is the bottle to reach for when you want something that feels like an occasion.

8. Plymouth Gin: the soft, easygoing one

Plymouth, England · 41.2% ABV · seven botanicals

Plymouth is its own protected style, made only at the Black Friars Distillery in Plymouth, and it sits a half-step softer and earthier than a London Dry. With seven botanicals and a higher share of roots, it is slightly sweeter, rounder and less austere, which makes it wonderfully easy to drink. In a slimline G&T it is smooth and mellow, with a gentle earthiness under the juniper and none of the sharp edges some people flinch at. Bon Appetit named it their best overall gin in a 2026 blind tasting, and I understand why: it is a gin almost nobody dislikes.

9. Sipsmith London Dry: the modern London classic

Chiswick, London · 41.6% ABV · copper pot distilled

Sipsmith helped kick off London’s craft-gin revival back in 2009, distilling in copper pot stills in Chiswick, and it remains a beautifully made, textbook London Dry. In a slimline G&T it is balanced and classic, juniper and citrus in easy harmony, with a clean, slightly creamy weight that feels a cut above its price. It is the gin I recommend to someone who wants a proper, grown-up London Dry with a genuine craft story behind it rather than a marketing department. Nothing flashy, everything right.

10. Fords Gin: the cocktail workhorse

London (Thames Distillers) · 45% ABV · nine botanicals

Fords was designed, quite deliberately, by drinks veteran Simon Ford with master distiller Charles Maxwell to be the ultimate mixing gin, and it does that job better than almost anything. Nine botanicals give it a citrus-and-floral character with a lick of jasmine and grapefruit, and at 45% it has the strength to hold up when you build a drink on it. In a slimline G&T it is bright and easy, but its real gift is versatility: it slots into a G&T, a Negroni, a Collins or a Martini without ever fighting you. If you make cocktails at home, this is the bottle to buy by the litre.

11. Gin Mare: best savoury gin

Spain · 42.7% ABV · Mediterranean botanicals

Gin Mare is the outlier here, and gloriously so. Made near the Spanish coast, it swaps the usual sweet-and-citrus playbook for savoury Mediterranean botanicals, Arbequina olive, rosemary, thyme and basil, each distilled separately and then blended. The result tastes like a herb garden by the sea. In a slimline G&T it is herbaceous, briny and savoury in a way no other gin here comes close to, and it is spectacular with a sprig of rosemary and food alongside. It will not be to everyone’s taste, which is precisely the point: if you are bored of gin, this is the bottle that reminds you how wide the category really is.

12. Isle of Harris: best British craft

Outer Hebrides, Scotland · 45% ABV · nine botanicals including sugar kelp

From a distillery that opened in 2015 to bring jobs to a remote Hebridean island, Isle of Harris is craft gin with genuine soul. Its signature is hand-harvested sugar kelp, alongside Macedonian juniper, citrus and warm spice, and it gives the gin a subtle dry, maritime, almost coastal note you do not find anywhere else. In a slimline G&T it is aromatic and complex, juniper and citrus up front, that faint sea-air minerality underneath. It is a beautiful bottle, a beautiful liquid and a proper story, which is exactly what British craft gin should be.

13. Monkey 47: best premium splurge

Black Forest, Germany · 47% ABV · 47 botanicals

Monkey 47 is the show-off of the shelf, and it earns it. Made in Germany’s Black Forest from a barely believable 47 botanicals, including local lingonberries, spruce and forest herbs, over a molasses base, it is easily the most complex gin here. In a slimline G&T it is dense, layered and faintly wild, juniper and citrus tangled up with pine, berry and herb notes that keep shifting. It comes in a small bottle at a big price, so it is a treat rather than a daily driver, and a few purists grumble that all that complexity buries the juniper. They are not entirely wrong. But as an occasional “look what gin can do” bottle, nothing else is quite like it.

These are my defaults, so let me be useful about why. Hendrick’s is the soft one: cucumber and rose, floral and cooling, the G&T you hand someone on a warm evening who wants something easy and a little bit fancy. Garnish it with cucumber, never lime, and it is close to perfect for what it is.

Roku is the sharper, more aromatic one. The Japanese botanicals give it a yuzu brightness and that faint sansho-pepper prickle, so it feels crisper and more precise where Hendrick’s feels plush. When I want refreshing and gentle, I reach for Hendrick’s. When I want something with a bit more edge and lift, it is Roku. Neither is objectively better, which is the whole lesson of this article in two bottles. They scratch different itches, and I am lucky enough to keep both open at once.

Legally, gin is not complicated: it is a juniper-flavoured spirit, and by definition juniper has to be the dominant note. A London Dry is the strictest version, all botanicals natural and added during distillation, nothing artificial and effectively no added sugar. Beyond that you get distilled gin, softer contemporary styles like Hendrick’s and Roku, sweetened Old Tom, high-strength Navy, flavoured gins and sloe gin, plus a whole world of non-alcoholic gin if you want the ritual without the units. The big competitions judge these as separate categories for a reason, and the IWSC even runs a dedicated gin-and-tonic award, because a gin that shines neat can behave completely differently under tonic. There is no single throne.

What separates a good bottle from a forgettable one is not the number of botanicals or the size of the price tag. It is balance and definition. Is the juniper actually there, or has it been buried under citrus and flowers? Do the botanicals read clearly or turn to mud? Is the alcohol woven in smoothly or does it sting? And, the test I care about most, does it hold its shape when you drown it in tonic and ice, or does it vanish? A gin with fifty botanicals that collapses under Fever-Tree is worse, for my money, than a four-botanical Tanqueray that stands up and salutes. More is not better. Clear is better.

Since this is the only way I drink gin, and probably the way you drink most of yours, it deserves more than a throwaway line. A great G&T is mostly about respecting a few boring rules.

Get the ratio right. Somewhere between one part gin to two parts tonic and one to three is the sweet spot. Too little tonic and it is harsh; too much and the gin drowns. Use far more ice than feels reasonable. A glass packed with ice actually melts more slowly and keeps the drink cold and lively, whereas two sad cubes melt fast and water it down. Keep the tonic cold and fresh. Flat, warm tonic is the single most common way a good gin gets murdered at home, so open it fresh and keep it in the fridge.

Two more things I feel strongly about. Do not let an aggressively flavoured tonic bulldoze a subtle gin. I drink Fever-Tree slimline precisely because it is clean and lets the gin lead; a heavily flavoured tonic can obliterate something delicate like Roku or Hendrick’s, which rather defeats the point of buying them. And go easy on the garnish. One considered garnish that complements the gin, cucumber for Hendrick’s, grapefruit for No. Ten, rosemary for Gin Mare, does far more than turning the glass into a fruit salad. You are seasoning the drink, not making a trifle.

Sometimes, and not nearly as often as the price tags imply. Monkey 47 costs a small fortune and genuinely delivers something you cannot get cheaply: real, dizzying complexity. That is a case where the money buys something. But then look at Beefeater and Tanqueray, both of which sit in the high teens to mid-£20s and both of which are, by any honest measure, superb gins that professional bartenders reach for constantly. Even the supermarket own-labels have quietly got good, as our look at Lidl’s gin makes plain. Neither is trying to be a luxury object. They are just very good.

What extra money tends to buy in gin is complexity, unusual botanicals, small-batch production and a nicer bottle, not necessarily a better G&T. A £40 gin is not automatically twice as enjoyable as a £20 one, and in a tall glass full of tonic and ice, plenty of the subtlety you paid for gets diluted anyway. My honest position: own one splurge bottle for when you want to pay attention, and let your everyday G&T be something excellent and affordable. The glass does not know what you spent.

If you want a cupboard that covers almost any craving without twenty bottles gathering dust, here is how I would spend the money.

That is five bottles that will handle a lazy G&T, a serious Martini, a proper Negroni, a night you want to show off and a night you want something familiar. Everything else is happy expansion.