After opening the doors to our new Spirits Shop this spring, we pause to look back on a rich history of bottling spirits at Berry Bros. & Rudd.

If we cast our minds back in time, and think of spirits in England, images of Hogarth’s Gin Lane might spring to mind. Or perhaps, Cornish rum smugglers squirreling away their wares in a cove under darkness.

Our shop at No.3 St James’s Street has witnessed many great tumultuous changes over the centuries: thankfully the gin is much better these days, and you don’t have to solicit a smuggler for a weekend tipple –our new Spirits Shop at No.1 St James’s Street is, in fact, perfectly catered to such needs. As we open the doors to our new store this spring, it’s worth pausing to reflect on the journey up to this point. Let me take you on a bottled history, so to speak, of spirits at Berry Bros. & Rudd.

What do we know?

In February 1944, four German bombs fell between King Street and Pall Mall. Thankfully, our home at No.3 St James’s Street wasn’t destroyed but the impact shook the building (and its people) to the core. Sadly, many of our pre-war records were lost in the ensuing fire on the top floors, and there are many things we’ll never know.

Our earliest existing record referencing a commercial spirit comes from 1853. This is the date of the oldest known Berry Bros. & Rudd own-label cask bottling, relating to a bottle of Scotch whisky. This firmly places us as one of Britain’s oldest independent spirits bottlers, and we still bottle spirits to this day.

In 1854, one year after our first known bottling, George and Henry Berry took the reins at No.3 St James’s Street, after their father’s death. This is when we became “Berry Brothers & Co.”, a name we retained until the Second World War. The business was still very much a grocers at this point, with wine and spirit sales coming on slowly.

In 1896, the last stocks of groceries were sold for good.

As the Berry brothers fostered relationships with the great and good of the era, trading the much-quaffed wines and spirits of the day began to make obvious business sense.

1882

In 1882, the spirits offer was “pretty basic,” says Jon Newman, archivist at Berry Bros. & Rudd. “The annual stock book tells us a few quantities of Scotch and Irish whiskey were offered, but no detail given as to name or quality – except for one Islay. It also confirms that Berry Bros. & Rudd were holding whisky in both bottles and barrels at this date. That was until 1897 when a Glenavon is listed – which became ‘our Glenavon’ in 1902.” In the decades to come, the Berry brothers built a reputation for delectable liquids.

1903

In 1903, King Edward VII’s physician approached us with a task. He was concerned about the King getting cold and potentially ill while out driving his “horseless carriage” – one of his much-loved Daimlers – and wanted the brothers to concoct a warming remedy. Henry is credited with having created the brandy and ginger cordial which we still sell today as The King’s Ginger. Clearly, there was a mastery of spirits in the water at No.3 St James’s.

1907: The impact of Prohibition

By 1907, the market for spirits, particularly whiskies, was gaining significant traction. The company was now producing price lists for customers, like a catalogue of wares, to showcase the range of wines from far-flung places and unusual spirits on offer. Our price list from that year lists such illustrious names as the 1897 Macallan Glenlivet and an 1885 Talisker. Over a century later, we still work closely with both distilleries.

1914

In 1914, Hugh Rudd joined the company, taking the reins alongside Francis Berry (two generations down from the Berry brothers). Meanwhile, across the pond in the USA, the impact of Prohibition was being felt by its people. Smuggling and “whiskey running” were rife, capitalising on alcohol’s scarcity.

1921

In 1921, Francis visited Nassau in the Bahamas where “Berry Brothers” branded spirits were proving very popular. He decided to sell to agents in Nassau and the Berry and Rudd feet were now firmly in the door of the American market. And they knew just what to do next. Francis and Hugh decided the company should produce a light, blended Scotch whisky to cater to the preferences of the day. “It was originally referred to as ‘Scots’ rather than ‘Scotch’ whisky,” says Geordie Willis, our Creative Director, eighth-generation Berry and proud Scotsman.

1923

In 1923, over luncheon in the Parlour at No.3 St James’s Street, Francis and Hugh discussed the idea of a light blended whisky with Scottish artist James McBey, who suggested the name “Cutty Sark” – after the Scottish-built tea clipper. Not only did James conceive a name but he scribbled an illustration of the ship for the bottle’s label on a napkin, there and then. At the point of production, the napkin was sent to the label printers with a request that the final article should “look aged”. In an act of serendipitous error, the labels arrived in that widely recognised, vivid shade of yellow.

Cutty Sark whisky was favoured by Captain William McCoy, a trader working out of the Bahamas and shipping alcohol into international waters. Apocryphal sources have it that he is the eponymous “real McCoy”, and that his association with Cutty Sark led to his name being synonymous with authenticity and quality.

1961: Cutty Sark’s unstoppable voyage

This superlative whisky fuelled Berry Bros. & Rudd’s successes for over 90 years. When Prohibition was repealed, 80,000 cases were exported within the next three years.

In 1961, it became the first Scotch to sell over 12 million bottles in the US market in one year. “Cutty Sark features strongly in our archives, as befits our most successful spirits brand,” says Jon Newman. “Perhaps the most interesting records are a small selection of films of the Cutty Sark Tall Ships Race that we sponsored through the 1970s and ’80s, and some period television adverts made in the ’70s for our international market.”

The secret of Cutty Sark’s domestic and international success has often been put down to its smooth, light body and its lack of peat or smoke on the finish – making it perfect to enjoy before dinner with its accompanying Claret.

In 2010, it was sold to our friends at The Edrington Group, where for many years, it sat proudly alongside another famous brand of ours, The Glenrothes. Since then, it has been sold to La Martiniquaise.

2008: The turn of the millennium

With the advent of the new millennium, the gin boom arrived. Far from being a renaissance of the Hogarth-ian days of “mother’s ruin” and anarchy in the streets, it was a revival of the Martini and a new dawn for the elegant, botanical spirit. And we couldn’t let a piece of the gin pie pass us by.

In 2008, then-Chairman Simon Berry challenged the Spirits Team at Berry Bros. & Rudd to create “the world’s best gin”. Our No.3 Gin was born. Made for us by De Kuyper distillery near Rotterdam, it is crafted to be enjoyed in a cocktail, particularly the classic Martini. Since then, it has won top awards at the International Spirits Challenge no fewer than four times.

More recently, we have launched our Own Selection flavoured gins, our Classic Range of spirits (including whiskies and rums) and our Perspective Series of exclusive Scotch whisky bottlings. We work with some of the world’s most innovative distilleries and creators and seek out those well-hidden gems.

2024

In 2024, as we open the doors of our first dedicated Spirits Shop at No.1 St James’s Street, a new age of collecting and enjoying spirits is upon us. “It is the piece of the jigsaw that completes our property, and a statement on how seriously we take fine spirits,” Geordie tells me. He has been involved with the project throughout, working with architects Mowat & Co, interior decorators Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler and the building firm EC1. Of Mowat & Co, Geordie says, “They’re a fantastic team and were also behind our wine shop at 63 Pall Mall, which opened its doors in 2017. It’s never straightforward working with historic buildings, but our intention has always been to work with the site rather than against it. It’s been great fun.”

We look forward to introducing new collectors to the magic of spirits, and sharing our centuries of knowledge on all things spiritous. From No.3 St James’s Street to No.1, by way of Scotland, the Bahamas and Dutch gin producers – where will this adventure lead us to next?

It’s time to change the narrative on Bordeaux, says Nick Kemball from our Events team. Life as a sommelier almost turned Nick away from the region, though a recent trip there reminded him what he was missing.  

My iPhone’s Memories function recently presented me with a picture of a 1982 Château La Mission Haut-Brion. I often take pictures of food, so I’m usually asked to reminisce over sandwiches of days gone by, but this photo was momentous. It was one of those particularly impactful bottles, demonstrating that wine could be much more than a drink; it could be an experience. And eight years later, I still remember exactly how it tasted. 

Wine enthusiasts will usually be very happy to tell you about their “gateway” wine, the one pivotal bottle that hooked them. It doesn’t have to be Bordeaux, of course, but very often, it is. Mature Bordeaux, when it really gets it right, hits every Pavlovian receptor with precision. This bottle was no exception: dense black fruit, defined aromas of cedar and graphite, all framed nicely in assertive but sensible oak. It was served at a harvest dinner by a friend of mine, a Canadian winemaker. In that magical way that wine sometimes does, it perfectly fit the occasion, lifting not only the food but the entire afternoon into something unforgettable. Wine sometimes resonates at its perfect frequency. 

Shunning Bordeaux

In my career progression from pastry chef to vagrant winemaker’s assistant to sommelier, I discovered that the region I so enjoyed drinking was, in fact, decidedly antiquated. Younger people in the wine trade often view Bordeaux as old-fashioned, commercial, or lacking that elusive “sense of place”.

Peer pressure must have gotten the better of me, as I had a rebellious adolescence as a sommelier, during which I stopped drinking the classics and sought out the obscure and esoteric. If there was a rare, indigenous grape from some far-flung corner of the world, I wanted to be drinking it. I made many great discoveries in the process, I should add. But it wasn’t long before I began to view Bordeaux with the same scepticism as my peers.  

Returning to my wine studies, I find myself revisiting the classics, both figuratively and literally. Last October, I visited Bordeaux. And although this was to be for pleasure, not business, a few concessions were made for producer visits. I am glad, because these visits ended up reshaping some views I had formed about Bordeaux. 

More than meets the eye 

First, there’s the notion that Bordeaux is rarely an artisanal wine. I can see why one might believe this. At Château d’Yquem, the entrance feels not unlike the lobby of a luxury hotel. No expense has been spared in bringing gold accents to almost every interior fixture you can think of. In a particularly resplendent bathroom, every square inch dazzles with gold, from the mosaicked walls to the mirrors (and, if memory serves, even the hand dryers). 

I digress. Sauternes is an impressive place, and Yquem, situated at its highest point, makes it seem even more so. There is a vastness to it, and the sky feels bigger here. Looking out over the stretch from the château’s garden to the Garonne, our guide etched out on the horizon its 113 hectares with a finger. It was hard to fathom that this entire expanse is scoured for botrytised grapes every autumn – by 200 pickers, in as many as 10 passes through the vineyard. In the cellar, there is surprisingly little to see besides the barrels in which Yquem ferments and matures. Yquem is the definition of a wine made in the vineyard. 

The second realisation I have made is that Bordeaux is not stuck in a rut of conventional agriculture, as many claim it to be. Discussing who’s experimenting with organics or biodynamics has become almost trite; nearly every Classified Growth is exploring these practices nowadays.  

If that sounds suspiciously like a fad, one only needs to listen to Thomas Duroux, CEO at Château Palmer, to hear someone completely devoted to the cause. Duroux sees the shift to better farming practices as a necessity. His commitment to being a custodian of Bordelais terroir and the people working within it is admirable.  

It is encouraging to see so many châteaux asking important questions, such as what sustainability should encompass beyond the treatments used in the vineyard. Estates like Château Montrose are revitalising ecosystems, capturing carbon from fermentation and implementing wastewater management systems. These initiatives may not roll off the tongue with the same lyrical quality as “dynamised water” or “lunar cycles”. But looking at the larger picture is what sustainability should be all about: preserving the Bordeaux of tomorrow – the wines, the land and the people who work it. 

An accusation often levelled against Bordeaux is that its wines are homogenous and there isn’t enough diversity. This view is slightly anachronistic.  

There have been times when wines across Bordeaux were made in a plump, extracted style to please influential critics. But there has been a welcome change in recent years. Guillaume Pouthier at Château Les Carmes Haut-Brion is leading this shift, steering the wines in a fantastic new direction with lighter extraction and whole-bunch fermentation – winemaking techniques more akin to Burgundy or the Northern Rhône. The results are truly outstanding: lifted and fragrant wines with buoyant fruitiness and acidity. Their excellent-value second wine, Le C des Carmes Haut-Brion, could be considered a vin de soif (a thirst-quencher) by any measure. 

Finally, I had always assumed that drinking fine Bordeaux was beyond my means. I’ve since discovered a great deal of drinking pleasure in white Bordeaux, second wines and a number of overperforming Classified Growths – Château Grand-Puy-Lacoste, I’m looking at you. Granted, these are not wines with prices that justify weekday drinking, but in the context of wines for special occasions, I’ve started to realise that, in fact, Bordeaux can offer great value for money. 

Changing the narrative 

In my time as a sommelier, I’ve changed my mind about many things. Much like musical tastes, my preferences in wine have shifted constantly over the years. Notably, I’ve come full circle on Bordeaux. My first taste of La Mission Haut-Brion revealed the unquestionable truth that this region produces some of the greatest wines on the planet. It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that Bordeaux and its wines remain unchanged for generations, but a closer look presents a very different picture: things are constantly evolving in Bordeaux, to ensure its continuity. 

I’m left feeling that it’s time to change the narrative. Calling Bordeaux old-fashioned is a cliché in and of itself. Hopefully, young sommeliers will start to view the region for what it is: a complex and dynamic region where old meets new. Bordeaux may not be considered “cool”, but it isn’t trying to be. And, just like people, what could be more alluring than a region that is confidently aware of its own identity?

Browse our range of Bordeaux to drink now.

This summer, we’re taking you on a tour of some of our favourite wine regions via their cultural riches. For the last stop on our journey, we head to California, to venture through its sun-kissed beaches, dive into its melting-pot of cuisine, and enjoy a delicious Chardonnay in the sun.

California. Home to Hollywood, with its star-filled hills and palm-lined boulevards; of the bustling hubbubs of San Francisco, Venice Beach and Silicon Valley; and of acres of rolling vineyards across Napa Valley, Santa Barbara County, and beyond.

As a disclaimer: I have never been to California. The extent of my across-the-pond explorations were limited to the rather less sun-dappled cities of the East Coast and Mid West. And yet – without having set foot in the place – California’s culture has become so definable, so well-known through TV shows, films and music, that it feels almost like an old friend.

With the UK summer finally deigning to make an extended appearance this week, it’s time to round off our global explorations, and settle down to enjoy the sun at home. What better way for us to end than to head to the balmy beaches and mellow vibes of California?

What to listen to

The first thing you’ll notice on this particular escape from the UK is the music. As you relax in the sun, gently drifting towards you come the unmistakable, mellifluous sounds of The Beach Boys.

This Southern Californian five-piece had one of the most distinctive sounds of the 1960s, thanks to their mesh of vocal harmonies and twists on classic rock. Aside from gracing the world with gems like “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” and “God Only Knows”, they were also the origin of the “California Sound” – a genre inspired by the sunlight days of the California youth. As Harry Sumrall put it, in his book Pioneers of Rock and Roll: 100 Artists Who Changed The Face Of Rock, “They virtually defined the image of surfers, hot rods, sun, beaches, girls, and fun, fun, fun.”

This image – of dream-like, sun-kissed, easy-living California – persists to this day, and just a snippet of a Beach Boys song will transport you straight to the coasts of the Orange County. Good vibrations, indeed.

What to drink

There was a time when California was known for big, bold styles of wine. Made with a hefty amount of oak, these had enough butter and tannins to frighten even the bravest among us. Things are, generally, a little different today; the region’s producers still pack an exceptional amount of power and personality into each glass, but now strive for a more restrained, elegant character.

We’ll be giving the punchier styles of old a wide berth here. It is summer, after all, and I personally like a limited tannin count with my sunshine. I’m opting instead for a sunny-dispositioned white: the Wild Boy Chardonnay from Au Bon Climat.

Au Bon Climat may be a famous name to Californian wine devotees. Founder Jim Clenenden was, prior to his untimely death in 2021, one of the state’s most charismatic and influential characters. Jim is missed. Yet, his approach – using French clones and cooler vineyards to ensure elegance – lives on. It’s something that really shines through in the Wild Boy Chardonnay. Here, there’s all the buttered toast and ripe tropical fruit you’d expect from a Californian Chardonnay, tempered by a delicious backbone of citrussy freshness and stony, mineral notes that are almost Burgundian in style.

What to eat

California is an absolute melting pot of cultures and ethnicities; over a quarter of its population was born outside the USA. It’s hardly a surprise, then, that its cuisine has become defined by one word: fusion.

Fusion cuisine’s success comes thanks to the rise of the food truck in the 2000s. Cheaper to run than a restaurant, and certainly easier to move around, this gave Californians a greater ability to share and try food from other cultures than ever before. Chefs began to experiment, bringing flavours, formats, spices and styles together – taking advantage of the enormous range of fresh ingredients grown in the state.

Now, a long list of fusion dishes credit California as their birthplace: chop suey and General Tso’s chicken (Chinese-American), bibimbap tacos (Korean-Mexican), tiradito (Japanese-Peruvian); there’s even a “Californian pizza”, which starts with a crisp Italian base, and tops it with vegetables and sauces from any cuisine you can think of.

Yet one of the best known, and certainly one of the most influential, is the humble California roll. Combining traditional Japanese techniques with fresh Californian crab and avocado, this sushi roll was first mentioned in the Los Angeles Times in 1979. Since then, it’s become incredibly popular, even making its way back to restaurants in Tokyo. Further iterations and adaptations have followed, and it’s widely said to have spurred on sushi’s global popularity – plus, its fresh and delicate flavours pair perfectly with our ripe, creamy Wild Boy Chardonnay. Cheers to that.

What to read

For many who have been pulled through the British school system, there’s one name and one name alone that will spring to mind as a suggestion here. Who, after all, can forget having to sit through GCSE English classes as a teenager, trying desperately to hide any sign of emotion (desperately uncool, after all) from your classmates, as you reached the final pages of Of Mice and Men?

George and Lennie’s devastating ending aside – few writers have offered a snapshot into Californian history like John Steinbeck. Through the pages of The Grapes of Wrath and East of Eden, we find a different state to the glossy Orange Coast of TV: this is a land filled with opportunity and out-of-reach dreams; a land of industrialisation, determination, and grit. It’s a less idyllic picture than the one created by The Beach Boys, to be sure – but an important one to peruse, while winding down the evening.

What to watch

The opportunities are truly endless. As the home of Hollywood, it’s impossible to pick just one film that encapsulates California’s character. But, perhaps, for the wine lovers amongst us – one that will fully transport you to wine country, immerse you in the rolling hills of Napa Valley, and bring California’s vineyards to life, is Sideways. Just – maybe – skip this suggestion if you’re a fan of Merlot.  

On Friday 31st July 1970, a centuries-old British naval tradition was brought to an abrupt end. Here, Alexandra Gray de Walden explores the origins of Black Tot Rum.

The last day of July represents a dark day in British naval history – a “black” day, you might say. Since the 17th century, sailors onboard British warships had been issued with a daily ration of alcohol. It started as “small beer”, a much weaker incarnation of the beers we know today, coming in at less than one percent alcohol-by-volume (ABV). As with most traditions from the British Armed Forces, this was for a purely practical rather than romantic reason – the beer would keep better and for longer than water.

Small beers soon evolved into harder spirits which were even better at retaining freshness due to the high alcohol content. The Admiralty had originally chosen brandy but with ever-increasing naval conflicts with France, it was decided it was a poor show of patriotism to continue with that French spirit.

It is widely considered that 1655 is the year in which brandy was swapped out for rum as the Navy’s daily “tot” of choice. Around this time, Britain was extending its reach into the Caribbean. Without wishing to diminish them, the ramifications of colonialism are beyond the scope of this article. But one result of this period, for all its horrors, is the introduction of rum. This local spirit became an obvious choice for daily rations due to its accessibility – and better yet, it had nothing to do with the French.

A sailor’s daily tot had, previously, not been quantified or codified and had been known to reach as much as a gallon a day. Unsurprisingly, this meant regular incidents of inebriated sailors no doubt tripping over anchor lines and hoisting the wrong semaphore flags. Thus, in 1740, an official “recipe” and allocation was created. Each sailor was issued with a quarter-pint of diluted rum per day, issued in two parts. This was instigated by Admiral Edward Vernon, who became affectionately known in the Navy as “Old Grog” due to his grogram (silk and mohair or wool mix) coat. Shortly, these daily rations became known as “grog” and to feel “groggy” followed soon after.

While the daily tot was beginning to die out for certain ranks as early as the 1880s, the Second World War was to signal yet further prohibition on board. These regulations were not issued officially by the Admiralty but instead, instigated in-house by certain Navy branches. For instance, Navy aircrews insisted on a four-hour break “from bottle to throttle”.

Eventually, after being debated in the House of Commons, it was agreed (fairly swiftly) that the days of the Navy tot were over. On Friday 31st July 1970, the last tots were issued and First Sea Lord and Admiral of the Fleet, Michael Le Fanu, marked this black day with a special signal (a written memo, rather like a telegram). “Most farewell messages try, to jerk a tear from the eye. But I say to you lot, ‘Very sad about the tot’ but thank you, good luck and goodbye.” This swansong was made all the more poignant as Le Fanu was terminally ill at this point and died before the end of the year.

Due to the speed at which this ruling had been made, the Navy had a fairly healthy stock of rum flagons remaining. Enter whisky afficionado and entrepreneur Sukhinder Singh. After having the opportunity to taste one of these ex-Navy flagons, he then bought all the remaining ones he could find. He then decided, even more astutely, to bottle them as “Black Tot Last Consignment” – a blend of some of these flagons, bottled to commemorate the 40th anniversary of Black Tot Day in 2010.  

This incredibly limited rum delights with treacle and dark chocolate notes. Despite the age of its component liquids, there are still flavours of ripe black fruits which descend into dark depths of muscovado sugar and walnuts on the palate. A drop of water wakes up bruised banana and liquorice from their slumber.

In 2011, Sukhinder went one better and founded the Black Tot Rum brand. Far from being reliant on one, finite, source of liquid, Black Tot Rum has endeavoured to lead “the evolution of rum blends” and become something of an expert bottler. The 2024 Master Blender’s Reserve is a concoction of some of those famous flagons with a pick of the rum world’s rarest casks. The 2024 release includes a 22-year-old Mount Gay (Barbados), a 26-year-old Caroni (Trinidad) and a 17-year-old Foursquare (Barbados). The result is a decidedly fruit-forward rum with delightful, tropical notes of pineapple, lime and ginger. This is a deft blend of elegantly aged rums with an enticing, treacle-like mouthfeel.

Instead of lamenting the loss of a Royal Navy tradition, we should look instead to the expertise, revival and unbridled passion for rum that the day has brought us in the form of Black Tot Rum.