I really only have one requirement for ginger beer. I have to feel it.

To wit: "...the ginger beer has to sting, burn, and fire up the back of your throat. You have to feel it in your nose and down your gullet."

I found such a ginger beer in Boston -- made by Goya -- and we used it in all our Black Gosling Dark and Stormys. It was spicy, opaque perfection. Once we moved out here and couldn't find hide nor hair of Goya, I quested for the perfect ginger beer. Nothing served. Not Bundaberg, not Blenheim, not anything you can possibly name. Believe me. I've tried them. ALL of them.

In Andronico's British food section, I finally found a ginger beer made by Belvoir, and it was good. It burned my nose and tingled my throat, and I was so happy with that sought-after sensation that I ignored the slight tinge of chlorine in the taste that became decidedly pronounced the more I drank.

When I met Tim Warilow of Fever-Tree to sample his newest flavors, I pestered him about ginger beer. Fever-Tree, I argued, was the ideal company to make my favorite type of ginger beer. (Because it's all about me, right?) Tim just smiled and talked up the merits of their ginger ale. (And, as I've noted before, he ain't just whistling dixie on that one. Fever-Tree makes a killer ginger ale.)

However, a year later, Fever-Tree is now making ginger beer. I got two precious sample bottles in the mail and chilled them both immediately. One I drank as soon as it was cold, but the other is in safekeeping for another month.

In order to best appreciate it, I sipped it neat and not as a mixer. I've come to realize that the best mixers are the ones that can be fully enjoyed without alcohol or other things tarting it up. Fever-Tree's ginger beer is perfection. With each luscious swallow, I feel it trace a satisfyingly fiery path up my nose and down my throat.

And the flavor? Well, it was just ginger. I'm not denigrating the flavor with my "just," there, I'm elevating it. That's the flavor, "just ginger," which is as it should be. There was no chlorine aftertaste, no overt sweetness detracting from what ended up being pure ginger in liquid form.

Fever-Tree's ginger beer mixes two kinds of ginger: hot Nigerian ginger and fresh green Ecuadorian ginger. Just like all their other products, Fever-Tree's ginger beer is all natural, which explains the slightly cloudy appearance. For me, that cloudy, opaque look is key when layering up that most perfect of New England summer sips, the Dark and Stormy.

Oh, right -- guess what that reserved sample bottle is for? That's right. As soon as I'm allowed, post-delivery, that cold little bottle is going onto my deck and into my first decent Dark and Stormy in years.

I decided to start my mocktail quest off with that simplest of drinks, the gin and tonic. With multiple nuances brought on by using different gins, it's probably my favorite cocktail -- biting, tart, and tinged with bitterness, it reminds me of myself on my best days.

Now, the main problem with the gin and tonic mocktail is the complete lack of, well, gin, so it is key that the tonic be the shining star for once. Have I bludgeoned you to death with my opinions on tonic? Yes, I know I have, so I will skip all that, because you now KNOW that Fever-Tree is the only way to go, and head right to the gin conundrum.

Enter DRY Soda. Well, the DRY Sodas are a bit sweet for me to call myself a big fan, but that doesn't mean I was against trying their newest juniper flavor as a gin stand-in. Nothing could be more simple than to measure out two ounces of Juniper DRY and mix it with Fever-Tree tonic and a wedge of lemon. (Or a lime if your intro to gin and tonics didn't start in a British pub in the late 90s as mine did.)

The result? Well, maybe it's a the taste equivalent of a placebo effect, but I was pretty damn happy with my faux gin and tonic. All I was after was something refreshing with a non-alcoholic edge to it, and the Fever-Tree tonic definitely provides that needed edge.

The only problem with this mocktail is that the lack of alcohol means I suck them down with abandon and then spend the rest of the night wearing down a path between the living room and the bathroom. Oh, well, at least I'm hydrating myself!

2 oz. Juniper Dry Soda
Fever-Tree tonic water
Lemon wedge, for garnish

Combine all ingredients over ice and enjoy.

When it come to ginger ale, I've had only one opinion: drink it when you're fluish. Since that was the childhood application for me, it's pretty hard to separate fever, nausea, and vomiting from those emerald green bottles.

Until now.

After my last Fever-Tree musing, I was invited to participate in intimate Fever-Tree event at Perbacco. Not only did I get to meet the charming Tim Warrilow, the Fever-Tree "plant hunter," but I got to experience side-by-side comparisons of Fever-Tree mixers against the leading brands.

I had already done the tonic water comparison myself. The only difference was that I had completely ignored the idea that Canada Dry tonic was even worth the plastic it was bottled in. To me, Canada Dry tonic water has a sweet, glue-like smell and an even worse flavor. At the tasting, it assailed my tastebuds with high fructose corn syrup and choked out my throat with unctuous spittle. Not attractive.

However, the ginger ale taste off was a completely different matter. Canada Dry's offering smelled and tasted like Sprite. Fine, but not really ginger ale, right? Schwepps' offering smelled like a cleaning product and tasted like practically nothing. However, Fever-Tree's ginger ale not only spiced my nostrils with raw, sliced, heady ginger but it actually tasted like ginger. In the past, I have held firm that ginger ale in cocktails is nothing compared to ginger beer. That is has to burn going down and make you sneeze after one sip. When it comes to Fever-Tree, I stand corrected. For this particular brand, I might actually relax my ginger beer stranglehold.

Fever-Tree's ginger ale, like all of Fever-Tree's mixers, are made from "all natural ingredients, sourced from around the world. A blend of natural botanicals, spring water and a touch of can sugar, Fever-Tree mixers are free of artifical preservatives, ingredients, sweeteners and coloring." Specifially, Fever-Tree Ginger Ale is made up of three different kinds of ginger: fresh, green Ecuadorean ginger, Cochin ginger from India, and Nigerian ginger from Africa.

After the tasting, I scuttled home to try out a new and very simple cocktail. Full disclosure: while Fever-Tree did give me tonic water samples, which I totally didn't need since my husband and I had just stocked up on a recent trip to BevMo, they did not give me ginger ale samples. Those I already had in the house, just for kicks.

While on the same aforementioned BevMo trip, I picked up a bottle of gin that had been a curiosity to me for quite some time. Tanqueray Rangpur gin has all the clean notes of regular Tanqueray, but has the added kick of being distilled with Rangpur limes. We first sampled the gin in a very dry straight-up martini, but the aggressive lime tones convinced me I was drinking some old l'Occitane verbena perfume. However, when combined with the Fever-Tree ginger ale, the lime was slightly muted but, like Eddie Murphy in Coming to America, still very happy to be there. The ginger sung out spicy and strong without being overly sweet, and the fragrant lime just played right into its piquant hands.

It's a great summer-time sipper that can be enjoyed when the weather gets hot again.

Rangpur and Ginger

2 ounces Tanqueray Rangpur Gin
Ice
Fever-Tree Ginger Ale

The Shake:
In an Old Fashioned, add the gin, ice, and fill to the top with ginger ale.

I used to think I was a tonic water snob because I was hopelessly devoted to Schwepps. There is something about Canada Dry's cloyingly sweet, glue-like flavor that makes it vastly inferior to the one John Cleese used to pimp. However as I trudged down the endless rows of food and drink and food and drink and food and drink at this year's Fancy Food Show, I learned that I had not even begun to understand how snobbish I could get.

Last quarter's Imbibe Magazine had a recipe detailing how you (yes, you!) could brew your own tonic water. A process which, as CHOW blogger James Norton noted, seemed excessively time consuming just to squeeze out a puddle of brown water that dirtied up your gin and tonic. However, the piece is a testament to the fact that people are getting just as sniffy about their mixers as they are about their high-end alcohols. After all, if you are banging down top dollars for Hendrick's, Van Gough, or Grey Goose, why taint their delicate flavors with heavy-handed, overly-sweet mixers?

No good reason, I slur. And this is why I am currently obsessed with Fever-Tree's line of tonic water, ginger ale, and bitter lemon. Previously available only in the UK (Fever-Tree's managing director is Charles Rolls, the former owner of Plymouth Gin) these minute bottles of sublime refreshment will soon be poured into a cocktail near you. In fact, I have it on good authority that California's favorite liquor superstore, Beverages & More!, will be stocking Fever-Tree by the end of this month.

In a taste test performed under the most scientific of conditions -- there was a control group and everything -- it was unanimously determined by a blind panel that Fever-Tree's light, clean, and sharply bubbled flavors blew my previously favored Schwepps clear out of the tonic water. Next to Fever-Tree, Schwepps tasted heavy, fake, and sugary. While the ginger ale is still not equal to my preferred ginger beer, the Fever-Tree bitter lemon also put its Schwepps counterpart to shame.

Drink deep, my fellow tipplers, drink deep.