There are gins that sit politely on the shelf, and then there are gins that announce themselves with the confidence of a brewing revolution. Jim and Tonic's Kraft Hopped Grapefruit Gin belongs firmly in the latter camp — a London Dry that straddles the boundary between the gin world and the craft beer movement with a swagger that feels entirely intentional.
Where Hops Meet Juniper
The premise is beguilingly simple: take the crisp, juniper-led backbone of a London Dry and thread through it the aromatic complexity of two hop varieties — citra and hallertauer — alongside the bright, sun-bleached zest of grapefruit peel. It is a combination that reads like a love letter to the modern drinker, the sort of person who moves fluidly between a pint of hazy IPA and a well-made G&T without missing a beat. Jim and Tonic have built their reputation on this kind of crossover thinking, and at 42% ABV, this expression sits at a strength that allows those botanical layers to speak without shouting.
Citra hops, for the uninitiated, are the darlings of the American craft beer scene — tropical, resinous, bursting with citrus oil. Hallertauer, by contrast, is old-world elegance: floral, gently spiced, a hop that has anchored Bavarian brewing for centuries. To bring both into a London Dry framework is ambitious, and largely it works. The grapefruit peel acts as a bridge, its bittersweet character tying the hop aromatics to the piney heart of juniper that any proper London Dry demands.
A Gin for Beer Lovers
I find myself drawn to what this gin represents as much as to what it contains. It is part of a broader conversation about where spirits end and brewing begins, a dialogue that has produced some genuinely exciting bottles in recent years. At £36.95, it is pitched at a fair point — not entry-level, but not asking you to mortgage anything either. The 42% ABV gives it enough presence to hold its own in a mixed drink without overwhelming more delicate garnishes.
Where it falls just short of greatness is in the question of depth. Hopped gins can occasionally lean too heavily on their novelty, and I would have liked a slightly more complex botanical bill beneath the headline ingredients. That said, for what it sets out to do — deliver a hop-forward, citrus-bright London Dry with genuine crossover appeal — it delivers with style.
Best served long, with a dry tonic and a thick wheel of pink grapefruit, ideally somewhere with exposed brick and a playlist that cannot decide between jazz and lo-fi beats. This is a gin for the curious, for the drinker who wants one foot in the taproom and the other in the cocktail bar.
