THREE-QUARTERS is a commanding share of the whole. It’s a grade A on your maths paper, the controlling share of a business, and more than enough seats to govern a country. It’s also the proportion of T in a G&T – but here three-quarters commands only a small fraction of attention.

When it comes to the gin quarter of the equation, punters have become particularly particular. They want a brand, a style, premium packaging and enough botanicals to arouse a hippy. Some are even reassured by a £30 price tag – but then off-set the damage with an own-brand tonic. Better that than the gin, remains the pervading view. 

In most pubs and bars, it’s not all that different. “Bombay and tonic,” says the punter. “Drowned in a mass-produced artificially-flavoured and sweetened tonic?” ought to be the reply. Except it isn’t, bartenders just unholster their bar gun and let the gin have it.

People say this is changing, that the few premium brands out there are bringing tonic into premium parity with gin. 

Charles Rolls and Tim Warrillow’s Fever-Tree was, of course, the forerunner of swanky tonic and, since it launched in 2005, has been since joined by the likes of Global Premium Brands’ 1724 and Fentimans’ tonics.  

Fever-Tree has offered the most stirring evidence that the premium message is getting through. Last year it sold 44 million of its 25cl bottles, which won’t be far short of 44 million G&Ts. 

A development not unnoticed by investors – in March 49% of Fever-Tree shares were bought by LDC for £48m in exchange for more funding. Hardly the stuff of artisanal production, but Warrillow disagrees that corners will be cut. “Our investors have a significant minority and we remain in control. They understand the provenance of Fever-Tree and they do not want to compromise,” he says.

Compromise comes in many flavours but the use of sodium saccharine or aspartame is the most widely committed sin. 

This is the route taken by the world’s biggest tonic brand, Schweppes, along with the likes of Britvic and supermarket own-brands (though not the UK’s Waitrose). According to Warrillow saccharine leaves a “nasty bitter back flavour” and is clear sign that brands are “more interested in cost engineering than flavour”.

There are also different philosophies on quinine, the necessary bitter taste we associate with tonic water. As apostle of provenance, Fever-Tree sources “the purest form of quinine in the world” from “just about the most lawless place in the world” in the eastern Congo. 

Meanwhile, 1724 has literally gone the extra mile to source its quinine, climbing the Inca Trail to 1,724m above sea level as it does. As for the mainstreamers, quinine tends to be ambiguously listed under ‘flavouring’.  G&J Greenall’s Joanne Moore is a good person to talk tonic. Not only does she make more gin than Bombay Sapphire would like to let on, she is based in the UK’s Warrington, where carbonated water was invented. 

She splits flavourings down into three types. “Infused, using the physical fruit [or ingredient]; natural flavourings, which are made of 95% from the named fruit [or ingredient]; and artificial flavours – which are synthesised in a lab.” We won’t match brand to process, but Moore does observe that Schweppes has a different image outside of the UK. “Schweppes is seen as more premium in Europe than in the UK. In Spain it has brought out Pink Peppercorn, Ginger & Cardamom and Orange Blossom & Lavender flavours. Spain is far more developed – it approaches G&Ts with the same curiosity as we do cocktails. I would like to think we could go that way. If we could find tonics that match the effort and creativity that we put into gins it would be great.”

The sister tonic to Gin Mare, 1724 reports a similar tale in its home market. “The restaurant or bar will have thought about which gin goes with which tonic and what garnish to use,” says David Relph, managing director of 10 Degrees C, the brand’s UK agent.  “They serve them in enormously large balloon glasses and fill them with good quality ice. Spain has been doing it for three to five years.” And Britvic? “Spain is the clear winner – gin & tonic is the hottest thing in the Spanish market right now,” says Simon Owen, general manager of Britvic International. 

“There can be more than 100 varieties of gin on offer and a host of tonics. The Spanish are very serious about the flavours and nuances of G&Ts, in the way that the French might be about their wines or the Scots about their whisky. “We’re seeing this trend creep into other countries, though there’s a long way to go in the UK market, which represents a great opportunity for Britvic and the spirits manufacturers to help shape this behaviour.”

The UK is busy watching its waistline, with more than half of tonic water reportedly in slim-line form. For Fever-Tree and Fentimans this means natural fruit sugars are substituted in – cutting calories by 50% and 30% respectively. 

But Fentimans’ Wright is not totally sold. “Slim-line has a different taste profile but people are prepared to compromise,” he says. “[Personally] I don’t understand slim-line tonic – if you are in an indulgent mood, treat yourself...” So far low-calorie tonics are a UK trend. As Wright neatly puts it: “Slim-line doesn’t even register in Europe.” 

Alongside the UK and Spain, the US is the third of the triumvirate of gin markets, and therefore tonic markets. Fever-Tree’s Warrillow reports the new investment will allow the brand to expand beyond its 38 markets, and build in the US. “We are seeing rapid expansion in the US with growth of 80% year on year. We were the pioneers of the premium mixer category there – California and Manhattan took to Fever-Tree really early on and now the message is spreading. 

Fentimans, a brand that “brews” its botanicals and dresses in Victorian-themed packaging, reports it also has a licensing agreement in place in North America and is seeing growth in gin-friendly markets. “We’ve seen rapid expansion in Scandinavia, Holland, Belgium, Spain, Australia, Japan and Hong Kong,” says Wright.

The dream is for all markets to go the Spanish way. Certainly 1724 is not attempting to convince UK accounts to replace tonics but offer a better range. “If I was trying to replace Fever-Tree it would be hard. The rationale is to have a whole range of tonics to go along with spirits – a gin & tonic menu,” says Relph. “If they are stocking gins at twice the standard price then they should treat tonic in the same way.” 

A widened category that includes a range of qualities, styles and price points could be good news for all, even brands such as Schweppes and Britvic that have become somewhat of a habit for consumers.  “If people come back into long mixed drinks because of something new they’ve tried, that can only be a good thing,” says Britvic’s Owen. “With Britvic being such a widely distributed and recognised tonic brand, such a trend can only be positive.”

As gin continues its relentless march forward, there will be enough new pastures for tonic brands to feed from without the need to act cannibalistically. If Spain’s forensic approach to the G&T does indeed cross waters and borders, the attention on tonic will come from all quarters. 

The history of tonic water

Tonic water is named for its ability to cure and restore. Hamish Smith charts the background of this remarkable drink

Tonic water, as the name suggests, has helped and saved a great many lives. The first that we know about was the Spanish Countess of Cinchón who, in 1638, contracted malaria while stationed in Peru. As the story goes, her husband the Viceroy of Peru begged the native Quechua people to find a cure. Given the dubious form of the Spanish in the region over the centuries, it was probably less begged, more commanded, but nonetheless the Quechua obliged and prescribed a mixture of water, natural sweetener and ground bark of the Cinchona tree (as it would later be named).

The Countess was up and at it before long and soon word of the ‘Fever Tree’ (ah, that’s where they got the name from) and its quinine-rich bark had spread to Europe. 

Initially it was labelled ‘powder of the devil’ by some insightful religious people, and men known as ‘doctors’ duly rejected it, preferring their trusty fever cure of bleeding patients. However, by 1679, King Charles II of England and the son of King Louis XIV of France didn’t much fancy bleeding, went with the bark and were consequently cured of their ‘malaria fever’. Cinchona bark thrived in Europe as a panacea: used to treat malaria, fever, indigestion, mouth and throat diseases and cancer, though with probably varying success. 

In what could be an early example of appellation control, Cinchona trees were only allowed to be grown in their native region around the northern Andes – seeds and saplings were outlawed from export. So, as quinine’s pharmaceutical reputation grew and worldwide demand spiralled over the next hundred or so years, the Peruvian and Bolivian economies flourished.

Slavery, war and colonialism were all good fare in those days but stealing some seeds was an unthinkable act. Not until the mid 19th century did the Dutch and British work up the nerve to trouser some and smuggle them cross-border. The British pilferers planted theirs in their colonies of the British Raj (India) and Cylon (Sri Lanka), unsuccessfully, while the Dutch, ever the horticultural devotees (Tulip Mania etc) became the monopolists by the 20th century, having successfully propagated Cinchona in Java, in the Dutch East Indies. Bolivia and Peru’s economies, meanwhile, collapsed, though civil, cross-border and independence wars played a part.

The Japanese occupation of Java during World War II meant Cinchona plantations had fallen behind enemy lines. With scarcity and heightened demand through conflict in malaria-infested regions, American and European scientists set about synthesising quinine. The man-made version wasn’t as effective in combating malaria and other ills, but with the passing of time drugs were developed in its place and anyway, tropical diseases didn’t really trouble G&T drinkers. 

Very low levels of quinine became the norm in modern tonic waters, with big brands emerging, utilising the artificial version to great commercial effect. Sources suggest the 83 quinine parts per million is the threshold enforced in the US – today it is 0.5% of the level of early tonics. Indeed, to fight malaria to any effect with a modern day G&T, some say it would take around 10 glasses per day. Some may find this harder than others.

The history of the gin and tonic

In 1825, the British India Company made a discovery (not for the first time: Indian Pale Ale was also theirs). In attempt to muzzle the mauling bitterness of the quinine soldiers took to ward off malaria, soda water, sugar and gin were added. Up against the quinine, possibly the sugar was a more important embellishment in this equation but there wasn’t much the British didn’t like to add gin to and thus the Gin & Tonic cocktail was born.