Some advice for India’s gin industry… and a life lesson for me!

Three months ago I wrote an article titled “The Great Indian Craft Gin Scam”. Because to be honest, I’m not a fan of Indian Craft Gins. I don’t know if there is anyone who has drunk more craft gin than me in India (at least 300 types from at least 30-40 different countries and no I’m not an alcoholic) which gives me some perspective on what a good craft gin is. But a conversation I had with the founder of an Indian craft gin brand was a learning moment for me and made me decide to write a different piece and as you read on, you will see why. 

When I began collecting and evangelising craft gin a decade ago, I never imagined gin would explode as a category in India. Gin is still a very small part of the alcohol market in India but compared to a decade ago it is gigantic, having grown faster than any other alcohol category on a compounded basis.

Initially, most of this growth was driven by the commercial global brands owned by the likes of Pernod Ricard and Diageo. But about five years ago, we finally found entrepreneurs who starting distilling gins in India and making local (not craft) gins. Nao Spirits broke the market’s traditional pricing model, creating a whole new price category with the extraordinarily disruptive Greater Than, India’s first mass-premium gin brand. We also saw the rise of the first successful premium brands like Stranger and Sons and Hapusa as well as the underrated Jaisalmer. In fact, the recent fundraise of Stranger and Sons surprised me with the valuation because I really didn’t think that India’s premium gin market was large enough to justify such a high revenue multiple. But it is a fantastic product and as an early fan, I would love for them to continue to grow and succeed. It helps that these early brands seem to be making a concerted export effort. I recently saw Jaisalmer being sold at Windhoek airport and if you’re distributing that far and wide, then you’re clearly doing this very seriously. 

What troubles me though is the surfeit of new brands launched in the last three years calling themselves craft gins. I haven’t drunk every single one but I have drunk most and so far I have found only two are good. There are too many founders around who don’t have an understanding of gin, of distilling, of flavour, of what is “craft” but who do have a flair for branding, and who are raising funds for “premium craft gins”. This may be great for the entrepreneurs in the short term but I don’t think it helps the industry in the long term because we end up with ignorant customers without any real product understanding and brand loyalty who will move on to the next fad. More importantly we will end up with a lot of investors losing money because they are ignoring the macro-numbers. It is illogical to have over 50 crores of angel and seed investment in a category where the total market size (including incumbent brands and behemoths like Diageo and Pernod) is less than 400 cr. 

Craft Gin is in many ways the highest quality of gin you can find. Higher quality ingredients, small batch sizes for quality control, attention to detail, a lot of love and obsessiveness … all of these lead to gin that feels distinctive, with flavours that stand out whether they are on the robust or subtle end of the spectrum. A good craft gin doesn’t need a mixer, and even if you do add a mixer like tonic, you add just a little because you want to really embrace and understand the flavours and fragrances of the gin, not drown them in tonic until the individual elements blend into the sugar and quinine. It’s why I always say that if you want to taste the mixer, drink vodka. But if you want to taste and smell every element that goes into the spirit, drink gin. 

In India, however, most of the gins being made are undrinkable. I had to return one after two sips despite the beautiful packaging and bottling. There’s a really hyped new gin distilled in Goa that tastes like a vodka, not a gin, almost like the creators left out the most important parts of the distilling process. There’s another one I had recently in Panjim that tastes like some sort of industrial acid. Another varies across every batch (not in a good craft way with minor variations on a flavour profile but in an inconsistent “what the hell is this because it’s nothing like the last bottle” way). Even people who you think would know better, like India’s most famous single malt brand, have made a gin that I wouldn’t use to rinse my mouth. 

In the last 18 months I have drunk Samsara, Pumori, Seqer, Gin Gin, Tamras, Nilgiris, Tickle and Matinee among others, as well as the usual Hapusa, Greater Than, Stranger and Sons, Jaisalmer and limited editions like Perry Road. Very few of the Indian brands made me feel that there is something worth buying again and again. 

But if we are to make a success of Indian spirits we need to support the founders and products that genuinely deserve to be supported. It is important for India’s spirits community to stop falling for marketing. Whether it’s an ignorant media or hospitality retail, we need to stop pushing product that is genuinely bad. I look at these lists of “10 Great Indian Craft Gins you need to try now” and I cringe at the kind of research that passes for journalism in this sector. Don’t just swallow a press release and regurgitate it for a junket and a freebie. It’s embarrassing. 

This isn’t craft gin. Some of this product isn’t even gin. And I guarantee that five years from now, most of them will not exist and we will be left with a bunch of disgruntled investors who will have burnt their fingers in the category. And the only people who will lose out are the people who actually believe in quality, in craft. 

Which is what brings me to the conversation I had three months ago. The piece I wrote then was an angry rant. It painted the whole industry in a sweeping, broad brushstroke. It wasn’t constructive. I sounded like a bitchy, gossipy, angry Bombay journalist working for Vogue or Mumbai Mirror. But just after I wrote the piece I met Lavanya, one of the founders of Matinee through common friends at a dinner event in Delhi. The friend had told her about this piece I had just written and she was curious to know more about my thoughts. Strangely (for me), she took what I said and discussed it with thoughtful consideration and an open mind. She also asked me if I had tried Matinee. I lied and said I hadn’t because to be honest I hadn’t liked some aspects of it and I chickened out of telling her the truth. 

I did say that I would share feedback so after a few weeks, I hesitatingly sent her my thoughts on what worked for me and what didn’t, as well as areas for improvement. Now I know I write about food and drink but that’s not my job. I make my money investing in startups and mentoring founders and I’ve learnt not to share negative feedback with founders unless I have equity because not too many founders have the thick skin and emotional maturity to separate themselves from their brands and not take criticism personally. 

Lavanya responded to the message thanking me enthusiastically, saying that as a young founding team they were grateful that I took the time to actually think about their product and share specific feedback. She talked about how hard it is to get feedback that is actionable and knowledgeable, and how it is difficult to improve without such input. She reminded me how many iterations it took for Monkey 47 (one of my favourite gins) to get to the product we now love, and said that she and her partner were determined to keep improving with every batch, to work hard every day to make a better product however long it took. 

I have a better annualised rate of return on my investments than any VC firm in India that I know of because I back people. I back founders that show intelligence, resilience, empathy, a lack of arrogance, curiosity, the ability to understand things structurally, and who demonstrate execution discipline and a long term perspective. If you have those qualities, you will figure the business out more often than not. In her interaction with me, Lavanya epitomised so many of these qualities that it really made me look at the article I had written and question what I was hoping to achieve with it.

In my life I have tried to practice kindness as a daily habit. It know that it is easier to criticise than construct, and how hard it is to try and build a business. I have been an entrepreneur and have found extraordinary success and been lauded as someone who transformed an industry. But I have also faced the burden of pressure, fear, doubt until I had a complete mental breakdown and tried to kill myself because I was unable to cope with the stress and my expectations of myself that came with the job. In my article, I was behaving like an asshole, making sweeping generalisations, demonstrating a lack of empathy and practising the opposite of kindness. In the process, I was negating the efforts of so many individuals who are simply pursuing their dreams and passions, trying to do their best, just trying to be better.

So while I will continue to be honest and call it as I see it, my conversation with Lavanya served as a reminder that I need to choose the better, kinder, more constructive option. So if you make a gin or a craft spirit, don’t hesitate to reach out to me. If it’s not good, I will tell you the truth. Whether it’s flavour or packaging or marketing or whatever parameter. But I will also make the time to help you figure what you can do to make it better. Whether it’s financing or distribution or product, if I feel that you are a founder who has the right intent, who is building a brand and a business with the right intent, with honesty and with sincerity, I will do all I can to help you, starting with Matinee. And yes, I will help even if I am not investing. And no, I will not charge a fee for my advice. 

I’ll do it because I am passionate about food and drink. I’ll do it because I was this country’s first craft gin evangelist. I’ll do it because I love helping founders because I know how much I wish I had someone to help or guide me when I started out and had neither the money nor the access to get advice.

Most of all, I’ll do it because I met a founder who reminded me through her words and actions that in life there are no absolute truths when it comes to matters of opinion and narrative… just ordinary people working hard to live the lives they dream of. And if I am in a position where I can help people find what they dream of, that is a position of privilege and it is the least I can do.