I tried it: Matchbook Distilling Company’s Create Your Own Gin Experience on Long Island

Standing in front of the collection of spirits at Matchbook Distilling Company in Greenport on Long Island, it almost looked as if I had stepped into a local liquor store. As opposed to the distinct, uniform brand of offerings I'd see at another distillery, each label, bottle and spirit wildly differed from the next. On one shelf, a deep blush amaro was branded with a pink label with loopy red lettering. Above it, pocket-sized glass flasks of a smoked pineapple spirit were stamped with a witchy black-and-gold label. Cask-aged whiskeys sat next to bottled botanicals made from sweet potatoes and smoked sunchokes. While it may seem at random at first glance, this is the beauty of this experimental distillery.

Opened in 2018, Matchbook Distilling Company serves as an incubator where anyone—and yes, anyone—can produce their own craft spirits. Just a few years ago, an operation like this wouldn't have existed. Previously, in order to distill your own spirits in New York, you had to own your own distillery, something that is unobtainable for most of us. With a background working for big-name liquor brands and a passion for the industry, Leslie Merinoff Kwasnieski helped pass legislation that allows for an individual or company without a license to produce their own spirits—they just need to go to a licensed distiller. And thus, her distillery came to life. Now, Matchbook Distilling Company has gone on to create spirits for local producers, private collectors and more. And you too can create your own at their gin-making workshop.

Every Saturday, the distillery hosts a Create Your Own Gin Making Experience . With only 10 seats available, classes are intimate, informative and each person walks away with their own bottle to take home. Over the summer, I arrived at the industrial-size distillery and tasting room on a press trip with Chinola , a fresh fruit liqueur that is handcrafted in the Dominican Republic (which is also owned by Kwasnieski's brother, Andrew Merinoff). The window display outside gave a preview of the rustic vibes inside, featuring jewel-toned spirits with glass globes and botanicals hanging above. The theme continued on in the tasting room with caramel leather seating, white wood walls and long wooden tables. Black granite bars ran parallel down the space, on one side, the walk up bar, the other, our makeshift classroom space framed by botanicals sitting on the shelves.

Instead of lingering at the counter, our class began with a tour of the warehouse facility. Guided by Kwanieski, the tour navigated through 20-foot-high column stills, the bottling line and a dedicated barrel room. As we walked, she talked about the history of the space, the process and the current liquors in rotation. As we passed by the fermentation bins, she gave us a sneak peek of the action, peeling back one of the covers to reveal a heap of mossy white pineapples. Soon, she said, the fermented pineapples would be crushed and distilled into their core spirit, Ritual Sister.

Once we got an idea of how the liquor was made, we returned back to the tasting room to make our own. At the long granite counter, a beaker, tasting glass and a graduated cylinder were laid out, ready for our experimentation. Lined up against the wall were a range of botanicals—ancho chili, szechuan, and of course, juniper. We were invited to swirl and sip any botanical that resonated with us. No spit buckets were provided, instead, what we didn't like we could spit it out right on the concrete floor. Kwanieski assured us cleaning happens after class, plus, she said with a cheery disposition, the botanicals helped to perfume the room.

I got right to work, grabbing bottles that seemed the most interesting, sipping on familiar notes like coriander and bay leaf to ones unfamiliar to me, like yarrow and palo alto. I sipped, swirled and, yes, even spit on someone's floor. For a ready palate cleanser, the bartender also shook up a few cocktails. While the spirits would usually come from Matchbook's catalog, the Chinola company took over bar duties, shaking up a tiki-style Chinola Passion Saturn and a Chinola Mango Sour, a riff on a New York Sour.

Soon I added a little makrut in the beaker here, a little splash of peppercorn there. Once I filled the beaker to the brim, I brought it over to Kwasnieski who bottled it and labeled it. We were given tags to mark off what botanicals we used, tying it around the neck of the bottle with twine. The last step was to name our creations. Thanks to the amount of rose I added, I went with "Blush."

Once I made it back home that evening, I popped open the cork for a nightcap. With each sip, I got a taste of citrus and peppercorn, herbaceous juniper and the softness of rose. I placed the gin on my bar cart, feeling accomplished that I have a bottle to call all my own.