Fresh lemon rather than dried peel is the decision that separates this from the London Dry beside it on the shelf. Drying concentrates citrus oil but flattens it; using the whole fresh fruit keeps a brightness that no dried material retains, and it costs more and complicates the distillation. Hofland has been made this way since Jacob Hofland founded the brand in 1923, and it is bottled at 40%.

Eight botanicals is a short list and the lemon dominates it in the best sense. The citrus is vivid and immediate, with none of the slightly stewed quality dried peel brings, and it holds its brightness right through the palate rather than fading after the aroma. Ginger is the second unusual choice, adding a fresh prickling warmth through the middle that meets the lemon on equal terms. Underneath, the classical structure does its work: juniper firm and green, coriander warm and faintly citric, angelica root supplying dry earth, orris root binding everything from below. Then the two softeners appear. Vanilla lays a warm creaminess at the base, and liquorice root stretches the close on a sweetness that never came from sugar. Water drawn from the Veluwe keeps the whole thing clean.

The producer names its own garnishes and they are the right ones: a slice of lemon or a piece of fresh ginger, depending which half of the recipe should be emphasised. Neutral tonic in a well-loaded glass is all that is needed beside them, and a Martini works equally well. Avoid flavoured mixers, which would only repeat the citrus already present. A silver at San Francisco in 2013 suggests the fresh fruit was noticed. A century of making the same gin the expensive way is its own kind of argument. It closes citric, warm and clean.