Finding cinnamon in a dry gin is rare, since the warm spice in that style is usually cassia or nothing at all, and its presence on a four-botanical list gives this Belgian bottle a character its classification would not predict. Hertekamp has been working with spirits since 1894, and it builds this one on a grain base with juniper, coriander seeds, cinnamon and lemon zest, bottled at the unusually precise strength of 43.7%.

Four botanicals leaves each one exposed, and the balance depends on where the cinnamon sits. Juniper leads with a firm resinous pine that the higher strength pushes forward rather than softening. Lemon zest answers immediately above it, bright and clean, and it does the work of keeping the aroma lifted. Coriander seed occupies the middle with a warm spice carrying a citric edge that acts as a hinge between the citrus and everything below. Then the cinnamon arrives, and it is the piece that changes the shape: sweet-smelling but not sweet-tasting, it lays a warmth across the back of the palate that a dry gin does not usually carry, and it reads as peppery as much as sweet. Subtle floral notes appear around it without any flower being named on the list, which happens when coriander and cinnamon are read together.

Robust is the word for the result, and it takes a mixer well because of it. Unflavoured tonic, ice to the top of the glass, and a proper measure of spirit so the cinnamon is not washed out. Lemon peel is the obvious garnish, repeating what is already inside; a short cinnamon stick suits anyone wanting the spice pushed forward, and it looks better than it sounds. It also holds up in a Negroni, where the warmth meets the bitterness. Over a century of practice tends to show. It closes warm, citric and dry.