January 2025 | Mallee Spirit Boobialla Gin

Their newest release is a gin that’s crisp, classic in style, and made for summer. It’s got just enough herbal depth to keep things interesting, and a beautifully dry finish that plays well with fresh fruit and sunshine. The kind you’ll want to reach for after a long week or hot afternoon and trust that it’ll hit the spot every time.

Getting to this final recipe wasn’t all smooth sailing. Ron and Robin had planned to use 100% fresh frozen Boobialla but sourcing delays meant months of waiting. In the end, they landed on a blend of fresh frozen and fresh dried and distilled right up until the truck came to collect it for bottling. No time to spare. No corners cut.

This month, we’re serving it with Capi Dry Tonic and a slice of fresh grapefruit. The tonic’s clean bitterness lifts the native juniper beautifully, while the grapefruit adds just enough zip to brighten every sip. It’s the kind of G&T that belongs in your hand as the sun dips low, hammock swaying, dinner slow-cooking in the background.

It’s honest. It’s delicious. And best of all, you’re amongst the very first to taste it.

6:30 AM – Rudy o’clock

Forget alarm clocks. Rudy, their wildly energetic Hungarian Vizsla, starts every day with a full-body wiggle and demands for a walk. Before the kettle’s even boiled, they’re out wandering through their 5-acre block of scrub, letting the morning sun and birdsong do the waking up.

“Walk Rudy. That’s the first thing we do.”

The path is well-worn now, winding through the mallee scrub. Rudy zigzags ahead, ears flapping, occasionally bolting after rabbits. It’s their daily reset before the day kicks into gear.

10:00 AM – Still Life with Nelly

If it’s a distilling day, things get serious. The setup alone can take hours - cleaning equipment, fiddling with fittings, measuring botanical to the gram, and getting Nelly (their 260-litre copper still) filled and ready for the day. Ron fires up the tractor to haul pallets of bottles, crisscrossing between their various sheds.

Ron’s approach to distilling is a quiet rhythm of checks, balances, and close observation. A self-proclaimed “spreadsheet nerd,” his face lights up talking about process and precision.

“I love sowing fields of grain with a tractor,” he says. “I can sit out there for 12 hours because the consistency of the rows does my OCD really well.”

Robin, on the other hand, is a little more free-spirited in her approach – despite her 37 years working in the medical industry.

“You just think, how could that person not be a by-the-numbers process person?” Ron jokes. “Yeah, she just leaves all that at work to me.”

Robin laughs: “You’ve got to have your creative outlet.”

She’s the palate. The cook. The botanical brain.

“I think if I was just doing single one-off batches of gin,” she says, “I’d sit there and I’d taste it and I’d smell it, and that’s when I would do my cuts. But when we’re doing a big batch or a recipe we want to replicate, you need [Ron’s] accuracy. So, it can’t be reliant on my sense of taste and smell. That’s where I kind of… fall down a little bit.”

Together, they’re a distilling yin and yang: science and soul, precision and play.

“What part feels most special to you?” we ask.

Robin doesn’t miss a beat: “When you lift that lid and you can smell the gin. I reckon that’s the most exciting moment.”

Ron smiles. “Yeah, I think for me, it’s the buzz on her face.”

And that, right there, is the spirit of Mallee.

6:00 PM – Gin After Hours

As twilight spreads across the paddocks, Robin winds down with Rudy flopped at her feet, but Ron’s still in the shed. Because when Nelly’s running, the work doesn’t stop.

“Could be 10pm and I’m still on the tractor,” he says. “Moving gin, blending, cleaning filters, it just has to get done.”

Music plays (scan the QR code for their go-to playlist). He keeps himself entertained with the odd online game while waiting for the next cut. It’s quiet work, steady and satisfying.

Eventually, Ron walks back to the house under a star-filled sky. But not before his final nightly ritual: lock up the bond store, check every door... and tuck in the toilet paper.

“The wind blows through and unrolls it otherwise,” Ron shrugs. “We used to fold it with a little stamp, but now we just tuck it in.”

And, of course, one last check to make sure Rudy hasn’t snuck back into the cellar door and curled up for the night.

It’s all part of the rhythm. A little quirky. A lot of heart. And unapologetically Mallee.