Old Tom gin occupies an interesting space in the gin timeline — historically, it sits between the malty richness of genever and the austere clarity of London Dry. In practical terms, it's a slightly sweetened gin, and Hayman's version has become the benchmark against which all modern Old Toms are measured. That's partly because the Hayman family has been making it since the Victorian era, and partly because it's simply very good.
The sweetening in Hayman's Old Tom is subtle — it's not a sugary gin, and anyone expecting something akin to a liqueur will be disappointed. Instead, there's a gentle roundness that softens the spirit's edges and allows certain botanicals to express themselves differently than they would in a bone-dry London Dry context.
On the Nose
The nose opens with juniper, but it's juniper wearing its Sunday best — polished, slightly sweet, less aggressive than in the family's London Dry expression. Citrus follows, leaning towards candied lemon peel rather than fresh fruit. There's a distinct botanical sweetness that's hard to pin down — it could be the liquorice in the botanical bill, or it could be the added sugar working in concert with the aromatics. Either way, it's appealing and inviting.
The Palate
The palate is where Old Tom's character truly reveals itself. The entry is softer and rounder than any London Dry — there's an immediate impression of warmth and approachability. The juniper is present but gentle, and the sweetness provides a cushion that allows the other botanicals to come forward. I pick up liquorice, a touch of almond, and a warm cinnamon note that wasn't obvious on the nose. The texture is fuller than expected at 40% ABV, almost creamy.
The Finish
The finish is medium, warm, and gently sweet. The juniper fades first, leaving a pleasant spiciness and a lingering sweetness that's clean rather than cloying. It's a finish that says "have another" rather than "that's enough."
Where It Shines
The real case for Old Tom gin lies in cocktails. The Tom Collins — the drink that was literally invented for this style — is the obvious starting point. Made with Hayman's Old Tom (60ml), fresh lemon juice (25ml), and soda, it's a different drink entirely from a Collins made with London Dry. The gin's sweetness means you need less (or no) sugar syrup, and the flavour profile is richer and more complex.
But the revelation for me was in a Martinez — the proto-Martini that preceded the dry version we know today. Equal parts Old Tom and sweet vermouth, a dash of maraschino, a dash of Angostura bitters: it's a cocktail of extraordinary depth and elegance, and it makes the case for Old Tom more persuasively than any tasting note ever could.
Hayman's Old Tom is not trying to be exciting or innovative. It's trying to be authentic — to faithfully represent a style that was the dominant form of gin for over a century before London Dry took the crown. In that mission, it succeeds completely. If you care about gin history, or if you simply enjoy cocktails that taste like they've been perfected over generations, this bottle belongs on your shelf.
