I used to hate gin. In the darkness of dingy student bars around Dundee and Glasgow, my nose could identify Guy's Gin and Tonic from my Vodka Seven in nanoseconds. "Ugh, how can you drink that stuff?" I used to say. Then, during a long, hot summer slinging G ‘n T’s with great repetition, my olfactory senses began to subconciously equate thirst quenching with G ‘n T’s. I started rounding out my evenings with a couple in the converted church beer garden down the street. My favorite is Hendrick's and not just because it's Scottish.