Pine blossom, not pine needle, is the distinction that matters here. Filliers works Scots pine blossoms into a Belgian dry gin at 42.6% ABV alongside juniper and coriander, and the flower behaves quite differently from the resinous green note a needle would give: softer, sweeter, closer to pollen than to sap. Three botanicals is an unusually short list, which leaves the blossom nowhere to hide and makes the whole bottle depend on whether that one ingredient is interesting enough to carry it.

The aroma is floral and woody at the same time, an unusual combination that the blossom manages on its own. Underneath it there is a dry earthiness, faintly resinous, that connects naturally to the juniper without either one taking over. Coriander is the only other voice, warm and lightly spiced, and it sits between the flower and the berry to stop the two separating. The palate follows the same shape: floral at the front, woody and earthy through the middle, with a gentle spiced warmth that adds depth toward the end. It tastes like a pine forest in the way a forest actually smells, resin and soil and something in flower, rather than like a cleaning product borrowing the same word.

A gin this specific deserves a plain build. Use a tonic with no botanical additions of its own, since anything herbal or floral will simply compete with the blossom. A narrow strip of lemon peel lifts the aroma without redirecting it, and a small sprig of rosemary is the one herb that genuinely belongs in the glass. Avoid citrus wheels and berries alike, since both add water or sugar where neither is wanted. It ends balanced and elegant, the wood and the flower fading together rather than one after the other.