Less malty than genever and more full-bodied than London dry, Old Tom gin bridges the gap between its 16th-century Dutch predecessor and the contemporary standard-bearer, both stylistically and chronologically. And though it’d all but disappeared by the mid-20th century, its early-aughts revival was met with enthusiasm from bartenders for good reason: Not only does this slightly sweet style better our understanding of classic gin cocktails, it’s also helped heal the image issue of one of the backbar’s most divisive spirits.
Though it would eventually become its own distinct style, Old Tom began its story as an unsavory offshoot of the widely popular genever. By the early 18th century, tighter government regulation—put in place to curb alcohol consumption during London’s Gin Craze—had driven distillers underground. With genuine genever in short supply, gin vendors resorted to cutting their product with turpentine, often masking its flavor with naturally sweet botanicals like licorice root, which resulted in a distinctly sweeter bootlegged product.
The era saw a number of steep licensing fees imposed on gin sellers, too, spurring a secretive workaround from which many suggest Old Tom takes its name. The practice, which supposedly began in 1736, was the brainchild of an Irish immigrant, Captain Dudley Bradstreet, who installed a painted sign above the window of his shop depicting a black cat—colloquially, a “Tom.” His idea, which was widely copied at similar establishments around London, was that in-the-know gin seekers would insert payment through the window and call “Puss,” at which point, if spirit was available, the seller might respond “Mew,” and dole out a serving of gin.
By the end of the century, the name had stuck, as had the sweeter style. (A turpentine-free version was first properly bottled and sold under the name Old Tom in 1800.) It wasn’t until much later in the century that the London dry style would become mainstream, aided initially by the 1830 advent of the Coffey still, which allowed distillers to produce spirits at a higher purity and with a lighter body.
Decades later, in 1897, The New York Herald noted drinkers’ changing tastes in an article describing the drinks list at the Waldorf-Astoria hotel: Though the Manhattan and the Martini (made with Italian vermouth and Old Tom gin) were the most popular of the lot, the article emphasized a new, drier drink, consisting of equal parts French vermouth and Plymouth gin. “The present demand is for the dry,” wrote the author. Prohibition dealt Old Tom its final blow: Not only was there little incentive to bootleg the style, there was even less to resurrect it by the time Repeal rolled around.
Old Tom wouldn’t officially be revived until 2007, when Hayman Distillers brought back a family recipe dating from 1870. But since then, it’s made a quick jump to the backbar, with bartenders eager to recreate the flavors of historic, pre-Prohibition-era cocktails that featured the spirit—notably, the Martinez, Tom Collins and Alaska. However, though it’s most commonly found in spirit-forward, stirred drinks, it can work well at the base of lighter drinks like a julep, as in David Boelte’s summery Honeysuckle Julep.
“Old Tom is a beautiful thing,” says Danny Shapiro, head bartender at Chicago’s Scofflaw, where guests are encouraged to enjoy the housemade Old Tom straight, out of a spent oyster shell. “I enjoy its versatility—it plays so well with so many things.” In Shapiro’s Brockton Navy, Old Tom acts as a counter to bittersweet Amargo-Vallet liqueur, which gets a citrusy kick from lemon and a touch of sweetness from orgeat.
Used in combination with other gins, Old Tom can add depth to drink bases. In Brian Miller’s Double Barrel Winchester, Old Tom is part of a four-gin blend, for example, while Al Sotack calls for two different Old Tom gins—one and a half ounces of Hayman’s, plus a half-ounce of Ransom—in his take on the Bronx. “The Ransom is such a weird, specific thing,” says Sotack, and it works best as an accent spirit.
At The Gin Joint in Charleston, South Carolina, beverage director James Bolt deploys the Old Tom in his Baboso to balance the bitter notes of two gentian-based aperitifs—Suze and Bonal—while rye, Cynar and Carpano Antica add a fall-friendly veneer to this full-bodied, stirred drink, garnished with a charred habanero. The modern drink is a far cry from the classics Old Tom is known for, and that’s by design. Bolt argues that the style is a uniquely approachable spirit: “Old Tom is a great gin to get non-gin drinkers to start enjoying gin,” he says.
