There are gins that belong to a place, and then there are gins that belong to a moment in time — a particular convergence of tradition and curiosity that produces something quietly revolutionary. Beefeater 24 is, I believe, one of the latter. Born from the same Kennington distillery that has been turning out London Dry since 1863, it carries the full weight of James Burrough's legacy while reaching, with genuine elegance, toward something altogether more contemporary.
Where East Meets Kennington
The story of Beefeater 24 is really the story of Master Distiller Desmond Payne's restless palate. The twelve botanicals read like a journey in themselves — the familiar London Dry architecture of juniper, coriander, angelica root and seed, orris root, and liquorice, shored up by almond and the bright citrus trinity of lemon peel, orange peel, and grapefruit peel. So far, so classical. But then the departure: Japanese sencha tea and Chinese green tea, steeped alongside the botanicals for a full twenty-four hours before distillation. It is this patient maceration — that unhurried day of infusion — that gives the gin both its name and its distinguishing character.
At 45% ABV, Beefeater 24 sits at a strength that commands respect without overwhelming the delicate tea-leaf botanicals. The London Dry method demands that all flavour comes from redistillation — nothing added after the still has done its work — and that discipline is precisely what makes the integration of those Eastern teas so impressive. One would expect such unusual additions to sit awkwardly against juniper's resinous backbone, yet the result is a gin of remarkable coherence, where the vegetal, almost floral softness of sencha meets the bright, pithy citrus and the earthy anchor of angelica and orris.
A London Dry With Wanderlust
What elevates Beefeater 24 beyond a clever botanical experiment is its sense of balance. The grapefruit peel lifts what the tea leaves soften. The liquorice and almond lend a quiet sweetness that rounds the juniper rather than competing with it. It is unmistakably a London Dry — structured, clean, forthright — yet it possesses a sophistication and a layered complexity that rewards slow attention. At around £32, it represents genuinely excellent value for a gin of this calibre and ambition.
I have returned to this bottle more times than I care to admit, and each pour reminds me why it endures. It bridges worlds without losing its footing in either. An 8.5 out of 10 feels right — a gin that honours its heritage while proving that even the most storied distilleries still have something new to say.
Best served in a wide-bowled copa glass with a premium Indian tonic, a wheel of pink grapefruit, and perhaps a single sencha tea leaf floated on the surface — ideally on a still afternoon when you have nowhere particular to be.
