Woodruff is a plant of the forest floor, and it barely smells of anything until it dries, at which point it releases the hay-and-vanilla note that flavours May wine in half of Europe. It is one of five wildflowers on this list, and each was picked for its delicacy rather than its force. The Abbey of Maredsous distils it organically in Belgium at 40%.

The recipe reads like a herbalist's shelf rather than a distiller's. Poppy contributes a faint nutty greenness, hard to identify and impossible to confuse with anything else. Mallow is soft and mucilaginous, adding body more than flavour, the plant a herbalist reaches for to soothe rather than to season. St John's wort brings a light resinous bitterness, the only element here with any real edge to it. Primrose is the most delicate of the five, faintly sweet and barely floral. What the category requires sits underneath without appearing on the list at all. The aroma opens gently, the palate is smooth and rounded with a light vegetal character, and a restrained bitterness runs beneath the flowers holding them in place. Supple describes the texture, and the finish is calm rather than long.

Delicacy is the whole proposition and a heavy glass destroys it. A mild or floral tonic is what the producer suggests, which is unusual advice and correct here, since a sharp quinine would simply erase the primrose. Ice moderately, pour generously, and garnish with nothing at all if you can bear it. Light cocktails work provided nothing else is competing. A monastic herb tradition applied to gin produces something quieter than the market usually rewards. Choosing five plants that a pharmacist would recognise, and none that a distiller would, is a genuinely unusual brief. It closes floral, herbal and soft.