Churchillian

• 1 oz Blended scotch whisky
• 1 oz Cognac
• ¼ oz Cynar
• ¼ oz Green Chartreuse
• ¼ oz Maraschino liqueur
• 1 bspn Absinthe rinse
• Stir over ice for 20-30 seconds
• Strain over an optional rock of ice or neat into a chilled and absinthe-rinsed Old Fashioned glass

Happy Friday, friends! 

What would you serve Winston Churchill, a man whose enthusiasm for Scotch whisky and Cognac did not necessarily extend to cocktails?

That question inspired J. E. Clapham’s Churchillian, created in 2021.

As Clapham explains, Churchill drank diluted Johnnie Walker, enjoyed Cognac after supper, and disliked vermouth. His response brings those two spirits together, supported by a small but assertive gathering of bitter, herbal, and cherry-accented liqueurs.

And no vermouth in sight.

A thoughtful approach: begin with what someone enjoys, then see whether you can introduce them to something new.

There is a satisfying connection in my choice of Cognac. Churchill himself favoured Hine and served it at Chartwell.

My Scotch selection, Monkey Shoulder, departs from Clapham’s specified Johnnie Walker Black Label. And my large ice cube replaces the original’s iceless, Sazerac-style presentation. 

My father-in-law would have approved of the original approach. His gin and tonic was famously iceless. I chalked that up to some combination of generation, Britishness, and a man knowing exactly how he liked his drink.

I will keep my ice cube.

The gratitude in this week’s glass is my own interpretation, not Clapham’s stated reason for creating it. But a cocktail built by considering what someone else might enjoy feels like an appropriate beginning.

Especially after a weekend when so many people helped us enjoy ourselves.

Monkey Shoulder provides a welcoming foundation: zesty orange, honeyed vanilla, fruit, and malty sweetness. Its rounded character gives the other ingredients room without disappearing beneath them.

Alongside it, Hine VSOP brings a more floral, fruit-driven register. I find apricot and gentle spice, with oak lending structure rather than dominating the conversation.

Then the smaller measures change the direction of the drink.

Cynar supplies earthy, bittersweet depth. Green Chartreuse brings peppery herbs, mint, and an insistent botanical brightness. Luxardo Maraschino links the fruit and herbs with sweetness, cherry-distillate character, and a lightly nutty background.

Finally, the absinthe rinse lays an aromatic veil of anise over the glass.

That rinse announces itself first, pleasantly reminding me of the drink’s Sazerac-style framework. The opening sip is rounded and generous before Cynar’s bitterness and Chartreuse’s herbs gather across the mid-palate.

Maraschino connects the flavours without turning the drink into dessert. The finish lingers with anise, mint, oak spice, and earthy bitterness.

As my ice cube slowly melts, the competing voices become more harmonic.

Which seems appropriate for a weekend remembered as much for the conversations as for anything we tasted.

Flavor Notes grew partly out of my pandemic hobby of exploring cocktails and spirits.

But it also grew out of the bounty of Kelowna and the Okanagan–and my desire to participate in it.

Last weekend offered a particularly good reminder of both.

On Saturday, some friends and I attended Whisky Global at the Kelowna Event Centre, part of its national tasting tour.

A room full of whisky makers, representatives, bottles, and people interested in talking about all three.

Whisky nerds, in other words.

Umm, hello! [Hand raised.]

The lineup was extensive and international. My attention gravitated toward Scotch, a category in which I still have a great deal to learn. There were also Canadian producers who were new to me, which made the evening feel like an education both abroad and closer to home.

There was plenty of water between samples.

And plenty of photographs, because I have learned that “I will remember that bottle” is not a reliable filing system.

Here is my photographic highlight reel, in no particular ranking:

• Glencadam Reserva PX. A Highland single malt finished in Pedro Ximénez Sherry casks. Need I say more? Apparently not, though I did take a picture.
• GlenAllachie 10 Year Old Cask Strength. A generously flavoured Speyside whisky whose strength felt remarkably well integrated to me. A useful reminder that intensity and balance are not opposites.
• Glenfiddich 15 Year Old Solera Reserve. Smooth to my palate, with subtle Sherry-associated richness. An enjoyable opportunity to revisit a familiar name with more attention.
• The Balvenie Caribbean Cask and DoubleWood. Please do not make me decide which I preferred. I beg you.
• Bruichladdich Port Charlotte 10. An Islay whisky whose peat smoke landed at exactly the right level for me. Not quiet. Just persuasive.
• Nikka From the Barrel. Some whiskies from Japanese producers strike me as understated. This one, bottled at 51.4% ABV, asked for my full attention–and received it.
• Macaloney’s Triple Take. A Vancouver Island whisky whose triple-distilled character reminded me of Irish styles I enjoy. In a blind tasting, my geography might have been embarrassingly wrong.
• BEARFACE BEAR-BON. A Canadian interpretation of a southern-style whisky, with corn sweetness, malted barley, rye, and hand-charred casks that previously held Okanagan wine and whisky. The brand’s Elemental Ageing approach uses repurposed shipping containers exposed to the elements. A fascinating production story behind a very enjoyable pour.
• Paul John Madeira. Among the Indian single malts I explored, this Madeira-cask-finished expression particularly caught my attention.
• Eau Claire Distillery Rupert’s Whisky. An approachable, thoroughly enjoyable Canadian whisky from Alberta. One I would happily revisit.
• Glengoyne 10 Year Old. Toward the end of our evening, I preferred it to the sibling expression I tried alongside it. Can I now rank it confidently against everything above? Absolutely not. The photograph has a better memory than I do.

That is the pleasure of an event like this.

You do not need to emerge with a definitive ranking or an expert’s vocabulary. Sometimes the useful outcome is a longer list of questions–and a few bottles you want to meet again.

I left having learned more about whisky and having enjoyed the company of friends who were happy to explore alongside me.

A successful Saturday.

And Sunday had its own itinerary.

A great friend we met through Kelowna Newcomers Club activities invited my wife and me on a West Kelowna wine tour.

Our friend happens to hold memberships at the wineries and cidery we visited.

Which is a very useful qualification in a tour host.

More importantly, our host shared that enthusiasm and familiarity with us. There is something special about being introduced to places by someone who already enjoys them.

You are not simply following a route. You are being welcomed into part of someone else’s life.

First, my wife and I finally visited Frind Estate Winery.

What a highlight.

The lakeside setting and wines made an impression, and its restaurant went straight onto our list for visiting friends. Some places immediately suggest the people you would like to bring back with you.

This was one of them.

Then came Crown & Thieves Winery, with its wonderfully theatrical, Old World atmosphere and the big reds to match.

Its ruin-inspired setting makes an impression before you even begin considering what is in the glass.

Nearby, Truck 59 Ciderhouse offered a change of pace.

Cider is a much more noticeable part of our tasting life here, and Truck 59 provided another happy reason to keep exploring it.

We also visited TULA Restaurant at Little Straw Vineyards for Indian food.

Although we did not do a winery tasting there, the meal deserves its own place in the story. TULA brings regional Indian cooking into an Okanagan wine-country setting, and we were delighted by what arrived at the table.

Finally, we visited The Hatch, part of the same Jason Parkes Customs family as Crown & Thieves and Truck 59.

Another enjoyable slate of wines. A few bottles to take home.

And then, the final stop: our host’s house for smash burgers.

Honestly, I am not sure a better ending could have been scripted.

After an afternoon of tasting rooms and restaurant tables, we finished in someone’s home, sharing something delicious and familiar, and us feeling very lucky to have been part of it.

My wife and I arrived home full of appreciation. For the producers willing to explain what they make. For a region that continues to surprise us.

But most of all, for the people who made room for us in their weekend. That is what stays with me.

The bottles are interesting. The places are beautiful. The food was excellent.

But none of those things would have meant quite the same without the company.

When you move somewhere new, you can visit the attractions and learn the roads. You can find restaurants, buy tickets, and make reservations.

Friendship is different. Someone thinks to invite you. Someone shares a favourite place. Someone opens their home.

And gradually, the place where you live becomes a place where you are included.

That feels worth thanking people immensely for.

So, this Churchillian is my toast to our friends who made last weekend possible–and to the growing feeling that the life we are building here is giving us more to appreciate than we could have planned.

A weekend for the record books.

Here’s to the next shared adventure. Cheers! 💖🍁🥃🍷