Truffle in a gin sounds like a provocation, and the surprise is how restrained it turns out to be. Grand Nez uses summer truffle, the milder of the culinary truffles, which brings an earthy, faintly nutty aroma rather than the overwhelming perfume of its winter relative, and that choice is what makes the limited edition drinkable rather than merely startling.

The truffle sits in the aroma before it reaches the palate. It reads as damp earth and something close to hazelnut, and it hangs above the glass without ever taking over, which is precisely what the summer variety allows. Underneath, the recipe is classical and organic throughout: organic wheat spirit, organic juniper holding a clean pine centre, organic coriander seed adding warm spice, organic citrus lifting the top. Lemon verbena is the botanical that makes the pairing work, since its bright lemony freshness comes with a herbal, slightly grassy edge, and that green sharpness cuts through the truffle's earthiness instead of being smothered by it. The palate moves in that order, citrus and herbs first, truffle depth behind, and the finish is clean and long with the earthy note fading last.

The producer suggests neat drinking or gastronomic cocktails, and both make sense. Served neat and barely chilled, the truffle is at its clearest. Mixed, keep everything else out of the way: a plain tonic, a heavily iced glass, and either no garnish at all or a strip of lemon peel, since anything sweet or floral fights the earth directly. It also belongs near food more comfortably than most gins do. Distillers usually reach for truffle in order to be noticed, and keeping it this quiet is the harder decision. Nothing else on the list draws attention to itself, which is what leaves the room. It ends earthy, citric and elegant.