On London’s quaint and endearingly buzzy Portobello Road, The Distillery’s deep navy awnings serve as a beacon for what lies inside, though what lies inside can hardly be contained by the singularity of its name. There is indeed a full-blown subterranean distillery installed, but alongside it is a school of sorts (“The Ginstitute”) dedicated to educating the inquisitive “ginophile” on gin’s rich and extensive history. Above it, the ground floor restaurant serves as a watering hole for passersby and gin-lovers alike. The airy, Prussian-blue hued third floor is home to GinTonica, an ode to Basque cuisine and, more specifically, the Copa de Balón, wherein the bar’s G&Ts are served over heaping scoops of ice, spanning the spectrum from classic to inventive and incorporating a vast selection of curated gins from around the world. And last but most certainly not least, on the building’s fourth and unassuming final floor are three guest rooms, one of which served as my home for the night.
I touched down at Heathrow in the late afternoon and was in a cab bound for The Distillery moments later, weary and most definitely insufficiently hydrated, though I could think of nothing I could possibly want more than a cold gin and tonic. I spent the ride stalking the hotel’s Instagram and perusing the menu to map out my first moves. Upon arrival, my bags were whisked up to my room at the informal check-in, which seemed to also be the host desk for The Resting Room. I was warmly welcomed to sit at a table and before I knew it, I had a cappuccino on one side and a G&T on the other. I was racing the clock with just under 60 minutes until my 7 pm class at The Ginstitute, which arrived in the blink of an eye.
Four cocktails and several hundred years’ worth of gin history later, I found myself in full science mode intermittently tasting various botanicals and taking notes on the rigorous blending process for making one’s own Portobello Road gin, which I must say was one of the highlights of The Ginstitute experience. My bergamot-forward concoction (meticulously recorded for future ordering) and I retired to my room upon the conclusion of the class, ready for more gin-fueled adventures come morning.
The sun shone brightly into my room early the next day, and in daylight I could properly assess my surroundings. To my left was a direct view onto the Portobello Road market and to my right, an impeccably stocked and arranged minibar — quite possibly the most extensive I’ve ever seen, though of course, the only spirit was gin (and lots of it). A heaping bowl of citrus sat atop the glass enclosed credenza alongside shiny barware essentials. Across from the bar was an old-school writing desk, and next to it a mini fridge containing snacks, tonic, and a few bottled cocktails. I’d get to that later, but coffee felt more appropriate. Back to The Resting Room for breakfast (and by “breakfast” I mean sipping hot beverages for two hours until GinTonica opened).
The clock struck noon and I made my move. Upstairs, GinTonica’s sunny dining room awaited, the aroma of its wood-fired grill beckoning. I took a seat at the bar and ordered a few small plates and of course, a G&T, taking full advantage of the ample natural light and photogenic surfaces. I was on a cloud inside a spotless snowglobe, except the snow was crystal-clear 1 x 1 ice cubes and the cloud a mass of minuscule gin droplets. Being a perfect place to work, my laptop battery dwindled along with the liquid in my glass and finally died as the sun faded to grey, ready to be recharged and do it all again the next day, just like me.
