Orris root is usually a fixative, the quiet ingredient that binds a recipe from below and is never noticed. Here it does that job and one more: the pale blue tint this gin carries comes from the root itself, with nothing added to produce it. Magellan runs eleven botanicals in France at 44%, named for the navigator and built around the cargo he was sailing for.

Six warm spices is a large proportion of eleven, and the balance between them is the whole exercise. Cinnamon and cassia bark cover the same territory from two directions, cassia the coarser and more assertive of the pair. Cloves bring a dark, penetrating sweetness, nutmeg a softer and woodier warmth, and cardamom a cooling camphorous edge that keeps the group from becoming heavy. Grains of paradise add the pepper, sharp and bright rather than dusty. Coriander seed sits among them as the connective spice, and orange peel supplies a measured citrus lift over the top, the only fresh note anywhere on the list. Liquorice root rounds the palate, sweet without a grain of sugar, and juniper holds the base firm.

Spice this concentrated needs volume rather than complication. Neutral tonic, ice packed in, and a firm pour at 44%; the aroma will fill a long glass without help. Orange peel follows the only citrus in the recipe. A wide-bowled glass shows the colour, which is worth seeing at least once. It also carries a Negroni comfortably. Building a gin around the goods a voyage was undertaken for is a tidier idea than most tributes manage. The colour is a side effect rather than the object of the recipe, which is the correct order of priorities for a thing that eye-catching, and the spice list would justify the bottle without it. It closes spiced, floral and long.