The British left a taste for gin.

A harbour worth holding

Maó harbour runs about 5 km inland and is one of the largest natural harbours in the Mediterranean. Its length, depth and shelter are the reason the island mattered to more than one navy. British forces held Menorca for much of the eighteenth century, in several periods, with French and Spanish rule in between. The harbour was the point of it all: a fleet could anchor out of the weather, take on water, repair and wait for orders.

Look at a chart of the harbour and the logic is plain. The narrow mouth opens into a long channel of deep water with room for many ships, sheltered from the worst of the north wind. The British built up a dockyard and a naval base here, and a town grew at the head of the water to serve it. Shelter, work and pay: that combination is what carried the habit of gin to Menorca. The water stays deep almost to the head of the inlet.

The harbour is still a working port, with ferries to Barcelona and Palma, a fishing fleet and a steady traffic of yachts in summer. The naval dockyard has gone, but the shape of the place is the one the British found. Stand at the water's edge in Maó and the geography explains the history with very little help. Two hundred years of change have not altered the width of the channel or the lie of the wind.

Why gin crossed the water

Gin was a British drink long before it was a Menorcan one. In the eighteenth century it was distilled in quantity in London and in the naval ports of southern England, from grain spirit and juniper, and it travelled with the fleet the way rum travelled with other navies. Officers drank it, and so did the merchants and yard hands who supplied them. Where the navy stayed, the taste stayed behind, and it did not leave when the ships did.

Menorca was a base rather than a colony, and a base needs supply. Ships came in with stores and pay, and the people who served them brought their habits ashore. Gin was cheap to make, easy to carry in stoneware or glass, and it kept better than beer. By the time the British left for good, at the start of the nineteenth century, the drink had a local life of its own and a local maker or two. The bottles stayed on the shelves after the uniforms went.

Gin followed the fleet ashore, and it stayed when the ships left.

What the British left standing

The British presence is easiest to read in Maó itself. Look above the shopfronts on the streets behind the port and you will find sash windows: tall sliding frames that came in with Georgian building fashions and stayed in use long after the British had gone. Local builders took the shape and made it their own. The result sits beside the Spanish and Catalan houses of the same streets without trying to match them.

Es Castell, at the head of the harbour, is the other obvious piece. It began as a barracks settlement for the dockyard and was laid out on a grid, with straight streets and small squares, which is unusual in Menorca. The British called it Georgetown. Walk it in the evening, when the heat has gone and the boats are tied up, and the plan of the place is still easy to read.

• Sash windowsTall sliding frames on Maó's older streets, a Georgian habit that stayed.
• Es CastellThe barracks town at the head of the harbour, laid out on a grid.
• The dockyardThe naval works on the harbour that gave the town its purpose.

Juniper and the local still

Gin is a simple idea: a clear spirit flavoured with juniper and whatever else the maker chooses. Juniper grows in the coastal scrub here, and the gin made in Maó usually starts from a wine spirit with juniper at the front and few other botanicals. That makes for a plainer drink than a London dry, built to be served long with ice and lemon rather than sipped neat from a small glass.

Small distilleries still work in the harbour town, and the trade is old enough to feel ordinary rather than revived. Copper stills, glass bottles and a shop counter: the scale is modest. Much of what is made is sold on the island, which is part of why the drink is easier to find here than abroad. Look for it in the shops of Maó and Ciutadella and on the back bars of the port.

Pomada and the June nights

The local way to drink gin in summer is pomada, gin cut with lemonade and served very cold. It belongs to the Sant Joan festivities in late June, when the towns fill and the drink comes out in jugs. It is not a cocktail in the modern sense. It is a warm-weather habit, light enough to last an evening, strong enough to be respected, and it is drunk standing up, in company, well before midnight.

Ciutadella's Sant Joan, around 23 and 24 June, is the best known of the island's festivals, with horses and riders moving through the old streets. Maó marks the same days in its own way, and gin is part of both. If you are on the island in June, the link between the drink and the calendar is easy to see. Outside those weeks pomada is harder to find, and the bars that make it keep shorter hours.

How it is served here

Order a gin and tonic in Maó and it comes in a large glass, with plenty of ice, a slice of lemon and sometimes a sprig of something green from the garden. The tonic is added slowly and the drink is not stirred to death. It is a drink for the end of the working day and for the long evening, not a quick one taken at the bar. The ice matters as much as the gin.

In the towns the choice has grown and most bars keep several gins. In the port the drink is tied to the place, and the older, plainer style is still the point. Ask what is made on the island and you will usually be told. Drinking at lunchtime is common in summer, though the heat takes its toll; a glass of water in between is the local habit as well, and nobody thinks it odd.

• Long glassGin and tonic is served tall with ice and lemon, and drunk slowly.
• PomadaGin with lemonade, very cold, the drink of the June festivities.
• Ask for localBars usually keep the gin made on the island behind the counter.
• Water betweenSummer heat is real, and a glass of water between drinks helps.

What to eat with it

Gin is an aperitif here, and the food that goes with it is the island's own. Mahón-Menorca cheese has a protected designation of origin and comes young, cured or aged; the cured version is the natural partner for a strong drink. Olives, bread and oil, cured sausage and salted fish do the same job. The point is salt and fat rather than delicacy, and the drink is expected to cut through both.

The island's food is built on wind, salt and small farms, and the drinks follow. There is wine made here too, in small quantities, and local herb liqueurs worth knowing. A bar that keeps a good gin usually keeps the rest. Late afternoon is the moment: the light softens, the kitchens close between services, and a glass with something salty beside it is exactly what the hour is for. It is the best hour of the day in summer, and the busiest at the bar.

• Mahón-MenorcaThe island's protected cheese; the cured version suits a strong drink.
• Olives and breadThe plainest things on the bar, and the ones that work best.
• Salted fishA local habit that stands up to a dry, juniper-led gin.
• Island wineThere is wine made on Menorca; ask what is open by the glass.

Taking a bottle home

Bottles of Menorcan gin are sold in shops in Maó and Ciutadella and at the airport, where the choice is smaller. If you are flying, the bottle has to go in the hold unless you buy it after security, and the rules on liquids vary by airline and by airport. Check with your airline before you pack, and leave room in the case for what you buy. Arriving by ferry is simpler: the bottle travels with the car.

Shops in the smaller towns keep seasonal hours, and outside the main months a closed shutter is normal rather than a sign of trouble. Buy early in the trip if the bottle matters. Glass is heavy and it breaks; wrap it in clothes and put it in the middle of the case. Customs allowances for alcohol differ by country, so check the limit before buying more than a bottle or two.