Water mint grows with its feet in the river, and it is not the mint that grows in a garden: coarser, more peppery, and considerably less sweet. Le Gin de Namur uses it as the herbal centre of a recipe assembled in 2021 by three friends from the region, drawing on what grows along the Sambre and the Meuse, at 40%.

The herbal half is built from three plants that nobody would call obvious. Mentha aquatica leads, green and peppery rather than cooling. Nettle works beside it with a dark mineral flatness, the vegetal weight that only a plant of that kind provides. Poppy lays a faint nutty greenness above them both, and myrtle contributes a dry aromatic depth underneath. Together they produce something at once woody and floral, a peppery undertone running through it, which is an unusual place for a gin to sit. Then the fruit arrives from the Hesbaye orchards and softens the whole arrangement: blueberry, raspberry and blackcurrant, three berries chosen for sweetness rather than tartness, and they take the centre, which the herbs would otherwise leave austere. The colour is a pale turquoise, a reference to the river on a clear day.

Herbs and berries in one glass need a mixer that adds nothing. Neutral tonic, ice without stinting, and a pour that lets the mint through. A few fresh berries repeat the fruit half; a mint sprig follows the herbal half and is the livelier pick. Sweetened mixers push the berries too far and lose the mint entirely. The snail on the bottle is the emblem of Namur, and the whole thing is as local as its label claims. Three friends and one valley is a narrow brief, and narrow briefs produce recipes nobody else could copy. It ends herbal, fruity and peppery.