When we talk about flavour saturation, we’re referring to the intensity of taste or aroma that each botanical ingredient contributes to a gin. It’s from the perspective of the drinker rather than actual chemical saturation.
Distillers calculate their botanical dosage to design their gin’s unique flavour profile. That’s a given. But there’s a threshold to be considered that ought to be discussed more openly and far more often. At what point does the overall flavour quantity go from being a delight, adding depth and complexity to any drink, to becoming an unwelcome distraction that can’t be tamed?
That’s subjective, sure. But the objective numbers show that it’s been slipping into the overwhelming zone quite a lot in recent times.
Let’s use a comparison to illustrate this. Imagine standing at the heart of a grand concert hall. You are enveloped by the sounds from a symphony orchestra in full flow. The delicate trill of a flute, the deep resonance of a cello etc. all interwoven into a melodious masterpiece. Now imagine this. What would happen if every musician played as loudly and as persistently as possible?
Even if they are still all in time, committed to the melody and tempo – the resulting cacophony would be far from pleasant. Rather than music, it would be an either indecipherable wall of sound or, at best, an assault on your ears.
This auditory saturation mirrors a critical concept in when making gin: the notion of flavour saturation. Gin requires the correct balance of botanicals to create a harmonious flavour. Each needs to be dialled in to balance. But the overall amount of everything, all in, also needs to be checked…
Flavour saturation in gin
Just as it does for music – in gin, an oversaturated mix of botanicals overwhelms the palate, annihilates individual botanical clarity and confuses the overall coherency of the flavours. It turns what could have been a nuanced flavour journey into an indistinguishable burst of tastes.
There have been so many gins that have favoured boldness over balance. In doing so, they have drowned out the subtleties they conceptualised and worked so hard to source ingredients for. They’ve also made it impossible for drinkers to want to have a second drink too…
Where it all started is hard to pin-point, but it’s not a new phenomenon. It’s been a noticeable trend to see recipes creeping up from the likes of 15-20g per LPA (overall, for the entire botanical bill) in 2012 to heady figures of 55-65g per LPA for a one-shot gin in 2023. Some gin makers have even reformulated their gin to be bolder to keep up with the trend.
There are many reasons for this too, chief amongst them is the desire to stand out in the glass. There is a desperation to be noticed, and to be remembered.
It’s not all ego and sharpening elbows though.
There’s been an increase in flavoured mixers to contend with, as well as trend to simplify the message in liquid form when dealing with Contemporary and Flavoured Gins. For example – the label says it’s a fruity and fresh gin, so to taste it’s huge on citrus and raspberry.
Another more practical influence has been the use of fresh botanicals as opposed to dried. Put bluntly, moisture weighs.
Regardless of why, flavour saturation is real and it has created many average gins. The reason for their lack of brilliance is simple. The mentality of loud = better and taking a sledge hammer approach to making sure the signature botanicals palpable, is counterproductive to making good gin.
Grams creep up, results go down
It’s not just personal opinion either. The most frequently stated advice from judges at international spirits competitions is that the gin they are tasting is “overburdened”.
Often feedback will state that it is another case of a multi-shot recipe that hasn’t been stretched out. That’s industry parlance for having an oversaturated flavour profile.
They say this because the flavour of these gins tend to be dense. The spirit presents a confused profile. In every botanical’s desperate clamour to reach the top of the perceived flavour notes – it doesn’t leave any chance for anything to shine. It’s a reference that describes a gin where the flavours needed more space to breathe.
The idea is that by adding more Neutral Spirit after the distillation, the grams per LPA would have dropped to a reasonable ratio (see One Shot vs Multishot article for more). This would allow a flavour sequence to unfurl and room for each note to be discernible.
Of course, the easier solution to this isn’t to adopt a multi-shot process retrospectively, it’s to proportionately reduce the grams in the starting recipe.
Literal saturation vs perceived saturation
We’ve covered not allowing for individual botanical clarity or the semblance of a flavour journey. Two other factors that are a consequence of overburdened recipes are the physical limits of saturation and louching.
Much like the concept of saturation in chemistry, where there is a maximum amount of substance that can be dissolved in a solvent, the same is true for flavour compounds being extracted in spirit.
It’s important to note that the point of a drinker’s flavour saturation limit — when the botanicals have contributed too much to the flavour to a gin they just can’t see past it — is reached far sooner than the point of actual saturation, where no more extraction is possible.
For those making one shot, London Dry Gins it’s worth questioning the sensitivity of the intended drinkers. You may have a high tolerance for something and can look beyond it – but can they? Vis versa, something might seem pungent to you, but subtle to them…
It pays to have a broad spectrum of people tasting a proposed gin and cross check sensitivity. Cardamom and lavender are two botanicals that some are sensitive to in micro amounts, yet others tolerate readily. Sage is an example of a herb that some people can be entirely blind too, while others recoil immediately.
Different markets will have different sensitivities. Cultural upbringings will pre-dispose some drinkers to ignore certain flavours as background noise, while others will pick up on the alien note they can’t quite understand. Look at the world of perfume for how this plays out as their is a direct similarity. Not only are certain scent notes preferred by certain demographics and in different geographies, the preference of intensity in how the perfume is applied overall is also culturally / demographically different.
Practicalities when making botanical distillates –
Meanwhile for those making individual distillates there is a pragmatic question to ask.
At the point of distillation, each botanical has a maximum amount of flavour that can be extracted, irrespective of the distillation method or length of time used. Beyond this point, no further flavour can be extracted, and any additional botanical is effectively wasted.
Check your process and question how long your maceration times are, and how much you’ve committed to each batch. You may achieve some savings in both time and ingredient costs. You may be able to make some savings in alcohol loss too, as some ingredients will literally thieve ABV (cherries, apricots and strawberries for example).
This brings us to the second factor, louching.
Louching is a term derived from the French word ‘louche’, meaning shady or cloudy. It occurs when certain compounds, usually oils derived from botanicals, fall out of suspension in the spirit. This causes it to become cloudy.
This can happen when gin is diluted or cooled, as the decrease in alcohol concentration or temperature can make it harder for these compounds to remain dissolved.
Louching is a somewhat contentious issue in the gin world. Some consider it a fault, indicative of flavour saturation and an over-indulged recipe. Others see it as a mark of authenticity and a sign that the gin has a high concentration of aromatic oils.
To return to the musical analogy – it’s like the acoustic feedback from an amplifier. Some see it as an annoying noise to be eliminated, others as an inherent part of the live music experience to be embraced.
Flavour saturation is the death of longevity, at home and in the on-trade.
A flavour bomb with no subtlety may be what a (mistaken) distiller thinks is ideal. It may well be what drinker find easiest to understand, but it’s not what bartenders like to work with. It’s not what those who buy bottles that they want to drink most nights gravitate to either.
Most gin is consumed in cocktails and most bartenders work with complex spirits that have multifaceted profiles. If you’ve made a singular noted gin, or one that just can’t be tamed irrespective of the combination, you’ll find your bottle being passed over for something with more nuance and allows both the bartender to express what they wanted to and keep drinkers wanting to have a second.
Even if your bottle by-asses the bar. Home drinkers get bored of single noted gins quickly. Look at the brands who have been in the hamster wheel cycle of Flavoured Gin NPD, with each variant louder and more singular than the last. Most are passed over soon enough. If you want a gin to stick around, and become a house pour, either at home or in a bar, find both a botanical balance and a intensity that satisfies and doesn’t overwhelm.
Be confident in your voice
So there’s the gauntlet laid before you. Great gin recipes do not extract every last bit of flavour from every botanical. They are not a flavour bomb hidden within clear spirit.
Gin distillation is about careful curation and calibration, not brute force extraction.
It’s about building a balanced, enjoyable flavour profile that respects each botanical’s unique contribution, not about cramming in as much flavour as physically possible. It’s about a harmonious effect overall.
Start by dialling in and dialling down what you have in front of you. Be confident in leaving room for each botanical to be noticed and confident in the story you are telling. Let the voice that the ingredients have speak. Let them tell the story you are trying to convey. Make sure they speak loud enough to not be drowned out by the usual mixers, but remember, no story with any real resonance or longevity has ever had to shout to be heard.
