Disclaimer: I realize this whole entry makes me sound like a pretentious booze snob, but I don't rightly care, because I know it's not true. I'm not allowed into the Booze Snob Club since I've been known to chug champagne and drink Bud Light, so take all this with a couple of grains of salt, preferably with a lime and a shot of tequila.

I make no attempt to hide my love of gin. Gin, in my opinion, is truly the alcoholic beverage of the gods. It has history, it has variety; it has class and a depth that other liquors just don't have. It's the base for martinis, arguably the sexiest drink in existence — I mean, come on, James Bond drinks them. (As a martini purist, I believe a martini is made with gin and not vodka, and while James Bond's martinis contain vodka, he gets a free pass simply for being James Bond and that his martinis contain gin as well.) Humphrey Bogart famously asks why Ingrid Bergman had to walk into his gin joint in Casablanca.

My preferred gin when out on the town is Bombay Sapphire — it's light, easily enhanced by a squeeze of lime, and readily available. My only real complaint is a lack of overall complexity, and how easy it is to knock back one too many. The other most readily available gin in my area, Tanqueray, I could honestly do without. It always gives me the impression that it's trying too hard, like a teenager showing up in his father's tuxedo that is two sizes too big. It's good, but it's not that good. Not readily available, but certainly worth it's salt is Citadelle, a fine gin, focusing on citrus flavors that provide intensity and finesse to the spices.

But given the opportunity, it's Hendricks Gin every time. It comes at a premium, but damn is it ever worth it. Hendricks is special, incredibly unique in flavor, and possesses a complex combination of flavors usually reserved only for wine descriptions. Recently I introduced Chad P to Hendricks Gin with favorable results, and I get the feeling Chad is as serious about his gins as I am. If you give it a try, my only stipulation is that you hold the lime — I am absolutely serious on this point, no lime whatsoever — and use a slice of cucumber instead. You will not regret it, and it's unique flavor combination of rose and cucumber mash really shines through. It makes a mean martini, too.

Such are my gin credentials. If being a gin snob is wrong, I don't want to be right. Now, on to the review.

Some weeks ago I gave Juniper Green Organic Gin a try. This gin is uncommon in that it is the only organic gin produced in the world (possibly the universe). Gin is naturally a high proof alcohol, normally running between 80 proof/40% 96 proof/48%. As far as premium gins, Juniper Green runs at the low end of the spectrum — it's not a particularly high proof gin coming in at 86 proof/43%, lower than Hendricks (88 proof/44%) or Bombay Sapphire (94 proof/47%), but still higher than Seagram's Gin (80 proof/40%).

(Yes, I realize I am comparing "soft" American and Scottish gins with their harder British counterparts, that's an entry for another day.)

As for aroma, the "Christmas tree" smell is pungent. If you were illiterate or blind and unable to read the label, you could crack it open halfway and immediately know that you were about to imbibe in some gin (or if you're one of those people who dislikes gin, you'd probably think to yourself "Pine Sol", blasphemer). The smell is potent to say the least, and it made me even more excited to get on with the drinking.

In flavor, however, it fell short for me. I drank it in a traditional gin and tonic, a 50/50 mixture accompanied with a lime. It is definitely a complex gin, with a teasing combination of what I think was coriander along with the juniper in the front, but the savorier spices seemed musty and flat in the back, and a strange after taste that accompanies a feeling of the inside of my mouth being coated with a thin layer of film. To its credit, for a lower proof gin it packs one hell of a punch of that time-honored juniper taste, which immediately puts it leaps and bounds ahead of Tanqueray as far as I am concerned. It has a powerful mix of aroma and taste that is pleasingly bold in theory, but in practice just doesn't shine the way I assumed it would. I won't go so far as to say that I was disappointed, and I readily admit my expectations might have been too high — my love for Hendricks has most certainly set a lofty standard — but I expect a lot out of my gin, and rightfully so, particularly when it has been lauded as vocally as Juniper Green Organic Gin.

As far as premium gins, I definitely prefer it over Tanqueray, but would still opt for Bombay Sapphire (or Hendricks, given the option). I would most certainly drink it again if offered, but I don't plan on being a repeat buyer.