Kyrö has built a reputation for doing things differently. A Finnish distillery best known for its rye whisky, they bring that same grain-forward thinking to their gin range. The Kyrö Pink Gin sits in the flavoured category — a space crowded with saccharine pretenders — but this bottle has more going on than most.
A Nordic Take on Pink
What sets this apart from the pink gin crowd is the botanical bill. Rather than leaning on generic berry flavourings, Kyrö works with strawberries, rhubarb, and foraged lingonberries. That last ingredient is the one that caught my attention. Lingonberries are a staple across Scandinavia and Finland — tart, bright, and deeply aromatic. If you have ever had lingonberry jam alongside Swedish meatballs, you already know the flavour territory. It is a berry that refuses to be sweet without earning it first.
The combination of those three fruits gives the gin its delicate pink colour. No artificial dyes, no theatrics — just honest fruit doing its job. At 38.2% ABV, this sits slightly below the standard 40% mark, which tells me Kyrö wants approachability here. This is a gin designed to be mixed long, served cold, and enjoyed without overthinking it.
Style and Character
Flavoured gins walk a fine line. Lean too far into the fruit and you lose the juniper backbone that makes gin, well, gin. Go too subtle and the flavouring feels like an afterthought. From what Kyrö has assembled here — the rhubarb adding tartness, the strawberry offering a softer sweetness, and the lingonberry threading a sharp Nordic acidity through the middle — this should land in a balanced, fruit-forward space that still respects the spirit underneath.
I appreciate that Kyrö has not chased sweetness for its own sake. The rhubarb and lingonberry are inherently tart botanicals, which suggests this pink gin has more structure than many of its competitors. At £31.75, the pricing is fair for a well-made flavoured gin with genuinely interesting ingredients.
Best Served
Skip the standard tonic-and-strawberry routine. I would pour this over ice with a dry Japanese yuzu tonic, a thin slice of fresh rhubarb, and a couple of freeze-dried lingonberries dropped in the glass. The yuzu lifts the Nordic berries into something brighter and more complex — a serve that nods to both Helsinki and Tokyo. For a cocktail twist, try it in a Clover Club, replacing the traditional raspberry syrup. The rhubarb tartness does the heavy lifting.
A 7.7 out of 10 for a flavoured gin that earns its colour honestly and brings something genuinely regional to the glass. Not groundbreaking, but refreshingly sincere.
