A vine flowers for a matter of days, once, in early summer, and the window closes whether or not anyone has prepared for it. Harvesting that flower by hand is therefore a scheduling problem before it is a distilling one, and it is the constraint the entire recipe is organised around. Maison Villevert makes Floraison on a grape spirit rather than grain, at 40%.

Deliberate restraint is what lets the flower be heard. Juniper is present and correct but held well back, which is unusual enough to define the style, and the space it leaves is filled by delicacy rather than by another loud botanical. Vine flower opens the nose, soft and green-floral, and linden flower works beside it with a honeyed, almost tea-like sweetness that no other blossom quite matches. Lime brings a thread of citrus without sharpening anything. Ginger adds a gentle warmth low down, and the spice comes from cardamom, cool and camphorous, with cubeb pepper behind it supplying a peppery lift that stays light. The grape base ties it together: rounder and silkier than grain would be, and the texture matters as much as the aroma here.

Finesse rather than intensity is the stated aim, and it dictates the glass. Neutral tonic, ice generously, a normal measure, and a simple citrus twist above; a flavoured mixer would trample the flower in one move. It performs elegantly in stirred drinks where texture counts, and a Martini made with it is markedly softer than the classic version. A few days a year is a narrow supply chain to build a flagship on. Doing it anyway, year after year, is what separates a signature botanical from a decorative one, and it is why the flower is still the first thing the glass says. It closes floral, citric and silky.