Hendrick's Gin Voyages Into The Unusual

On a drizzly, ordinary autumn evening in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, a select group of revelers were summoned to a fantastical, furtive fete at Skylight One Hanson, a spectacular event space in the former Williamsburgh Savings Bank Tower, one of the tallest four-sided clock-towers in the world and an official New York City landmark since 1977. Built in the late 1920s, most of the building's 37 stories have been converted to luxury condos or dentists' offices in the past decade, but the vestibule that housed the bank has remained an untouched architectural treasure, thanks to the preservation commission that helped to also convert this interior section to landmark status in 1996.

On This Harvest Mule Recipe | Traveler's Testament Recipe | Night of the Iguana Recipe

The 63-foot-high ceiling decorated with turquoise mosaic tiles depicting the zodiac, intricate details carved into Romanesque marble columns, and masterly metalwork from René Chambellan are just a few examples of what make Skylight One Hanson a venue that begs for dramatic flair and extravagance. This particular party had plenty of that, but the ambiance took a decidedly peculiar turn (in the best of ways) on a night that desperately needed an infusion of wonder.

Upon crossing the initial threshold, even the ornate archways, immense wrought-iron light fixtures, and Cosmatesque floor tiles couldn't keep everyone's eyes from darting directly toward a dazzling damsel dressed in a draping, scarlet and gold gown with a matching wide-brimmed hat. Ostentatious outfit aside, it was height that was her most discerning feature, as she literally towered over the crowd, standing one-third as tall as the entire expansive room, her attire literally creating a tent-like structure beneath her body. Despite the fact that I sauntered in arm-in-arm with my stunning woman, the brazen vixen stared us down and beckoned us over with the curl of her hand.

Even at over six-feet in stature, I had to crane my neck to meet her gaze, and it was impossible to hear a word from her mouth at twenty feet above with the cacophonous crowd combining with sounds of banjo, guitar, drums and stand-up bass blaring from a folk-rock band performing on stage up front. The flirt in red realized yelling was useless, and rightfully switched her approach to gesticulating toward the circular chamber the bottom of her dress created, as if to ask us in.

I pointed to my chest, looked up at her and mouthed "Us?" and she came back with the old shrug head-tilt combo move, then coyly put her palm over her mouth and batted her eyelashes like a vamp. We made our way over, hoping to get a peek of what was going on under all that fabric, but just as we were about to step into the Promised Land, we were met by a pair of diminutive yet burly men clad in velvet, maroon jackets and gilded masks with long, pointy beaks impeding our entry. We tried to walk around them, but wherever we went, they moved to block us. One of them put out his index finger and started wagging it up at us like a child scolding his schoolteacher. I leaned down close to hear him say:

"You have to be invited in. By one of us."

What the hell? I looked at my lady in disbelief as a couple of guys in black suits stepped out from the back end of the enormous ensemble and exchanged winks with the four-foot tall balls of hired muscle. But before we could get upset about the strange, confounding encounter, a dapper old gentleman dressed in a white collared shirt, burgundy vest and matching top hat, and a long, plaid coat came over and excitedly introduced himself as a "chemist." With an exaggerated British accent, he began going on about different roots, herbs, spices, and botanicals. Before he got carried away — which he seemed bent on doing — another man ambled over in a neat black vest and bowtie and handed us each an icy, carbonated cocktail.

"Hendrick's gin and tonic," he proclaimed. "Drink up!"

We clinked our glasses and swigged back the bubbly, cucumber spear-garnished beverages, toasting "to another crazy night." But we had no idea how nutty it would be.

The night in question was the latest installment in the made-for-the-YouTube Generation marketing masterpiece known as "Voyages into the Unusual," a series of curious theme gatherings that take you inside the bizarre world the Hendrick's brand has been developing since its inception in 1999. Attendees get to indulge in Hendrick's boutique gin in an assortment of expertly crafted libations, along with hors d'oeuvres (like "Greek salad" served in cucumber cups, cuke "Capreses," and shrimp "cocktail" where the shrimp is skewered onto a squeezable syringe of sauce) that pair with the flavor profiles of each drink.

On top that that, skilled actors don elaborate costumes and interact with as many guests as possible, talking up Hendrick's, explaining what goes into its "oddly made" gin, and performing unexpected feats of magic and mystery. There's no telling what to expect, other than the unexpected, of course.  Be prepared for surprises galore and an array of "oddities" you just have to see. (Make sure your iPhone is charged to 100%; you're going to want to take tons of photos and videos, and you'll probably want to do some real-time Tweeting and posting to Facebook.)

The downtown Brooklyn venue at 1 Hanson Place played the perfect backdrop for the apothecary-meets-Alice in Wonderland-inspired party, that, at times, felt like a Dali interpretation of a Dickens novel. The band sounded like something you'd hear at a Prohibition era speakeasy, and it was obvious that guests were enjoying the feeling of being transported to a totally different world. An event like this could only be orchestrated by a company that has managed to master the rare art of not taking themselves too seriously and taking that whimsical attitude as seriously as possible. (This becomes ever more apparent when you visit the Hendrick's website and start reading the LOL-worthy copywriting that's come to play a defining role in the brand, as well.)

As we proceeded to the right side of the room, a waiter walked by with a tray of mini cheeseburgers, so "mini," in fact, they were the size of ping-pong balls. Beyond him, a bar served an assortment of "tipples" made with Hendrick's gin and its latest product, Quinetum, a unique quinine-based cordial that's crafted to blend ideally with Hendrick's gin that's supposed to take the place of tonic. Aside from its interesting taste, derived from extracts of orange blossom, wormwood and holy thistle, the underlying beauty of Quinetum is that it's 4% alcohol, giving your typical gin and tonic a deceptively stronger edge than usual.

Speaking of unusual, how about being served a drink from an arm that pops out of a hole in a wall? That was just the start of the odd occurrences that followed at Voyages. Our chemist friend strode by, theatrically calling attention to himself as guests were marveling at the wall passing out heady gin-based potions and Hendrick's-themed playing cards. "Look here and I'll show you all a trick," he cried, removing a rose from his inside pocket and placing it on the tip of his nose as he tilted his head back. Keeping it steady with two fingers, he finally released his grip and began shifting back and forth, so as to keep the flower upright, which he was able to do for longer than anyone seemed to expect. "My balance improves drastically after a couple of bevvies!" he cackled, fixing the spectacles that had shifted down his face after his show of agility.

Crazy concoctions were being mixed at three distinct bars set up on each side and the center of the massive room, some sweet, others surprisingly savory. Since Hendrick's is infused with rosewater and cucumber, the company's master distiller, Leslie Gracie, gives the nod to the phallic green salad fruit over lime as her go-to garnish for most Hendrick's cocktails. She also encourages the use of unexpected mixers — like celery salt, lavender, ginger syrup and different types of teas — to bring out the flavor from the eleven different botanicals that go into her gin. On top of these special additions, the entire process of how Hendrick's makes its gin is baffling to those who abide by old-school, mass-production methodologies, as it is severely limited by its equipment in terms of how much gin it can produce. But this is all by choice.

The final product you find in Hendrick's apothecary-style bottles is actually the combination of two gins produced in completely different stills in totally different ways. I'd go into detail about it, but it's better if you read about it directly on the Hendrick's website. While there, you'll delight in the witty wordplay that peppers its pages, painting the picture of what the eccentric Scottish brand is trying to represent.

It's refreshing when you discover unabashedly unconventional companies that make exceptional products, and in the case of Hendrick's, they go light-years beyond the status-quo of liquor companies with these elaborate Voyages into the Unusual celebrations. I wish I could tell you when and where you can expect Hendrick's to throw their next Voyages extravaganza, but the company is quite secretive and has yet to unveil specifics for any future bashes. If you're intrigued and would like to keep abreast of the quirky company's latest promotions, consider signing up for the Society of the Unusual, a co-ed fraternity for Hendrick's aficionados. Perks include "absurdly advanced notice" of their "various functions and undertakings" (a la Voyages), VIP-status and a free drink at all Hendrick's events, and it's free to join, save for disclosing some personal info.

In the meantime, get into drinking more gin when you hit the bars. Hendrick's and other distillers are making a major comeback, and the tastes you can create with such a complex spirit as the base are worth exploring. I'll leave you with a few inspired drink recipes, courtesy of Hendrick's, that I discovered at this memorable soiree.

Click here for the On This Harvest Mule Recipe

Click here for the Traveler's Testament Recipe

Click here for the Night of the Iguana Recipe