Cyrano

• 1 oz Aged Agricole rum
• ¾ oz Cynar
• 1⁄4 oz Pineapple rum
• ⅙ oz Pineapple syrup
• Dash Angostura bitters
• Lime button
• Muddle a lime button in a mixing glass, then add remaining ingredients with ice and stir for 20-30 seconds. Strain into an old fashioned glass over ice.
• Garnish with mint

Happy Friday, friends!

Sometimes, when managing your home bar collection, you look for adjacent opportunities to repurpose something you created for a previous cocktail. This is definitely the case with spirits that aren’t shelf-stable–vermouths being the prime example. I make it a policy to always purchase the smallest bottle available when trying a new vermouth.

But this is especially true with sugar syrups, which typically last about a month in the refrigerator. After last week’s cocktail–the Urban Songbird–I found myself with some leftover pineapple syrup that needed a purpose.

To that end, I’d like to introduce the Cyrano.

Created by Jonnie Long of Death & Co. in Denver, Colorado, this cocktail is a unique marriage of agricole rum funk, hints of pineapple and lime, and the earthy, herbaceous backbone of an Italian amaro.

This cocktail starts with an aged agricole rum–something we tasted at last week’s rum event in the form of Renegade Rum Études: Pearls. However, at $105, that’s a tough bottle to justify for occasional use in a home bar. And given the relative scarcity of agricole rums within the BC liquor system, I was introduced to a compelling alternative: Paranubes Oaxacan Rum.

Paranubes is technically an aguardiente de caña, produced in Oaxaca, Mexico–already an unconventional geography for rum. But what makes it truly unique is the production process: the sugarcane is allowed to ferment in the wild before harvest, then added to a fermentation vat that operates continuously without added yeast, emptied only every four months.

The result is a highly aromatic, agricole-style spirit with intense notes of green olive, brine, pineapple, banana, and fresh-cut grass. It’s earthy, funky, and complex all at once–and a perfect foundation for this cocktail.

To this, Cynar is added for its bittersweet structure. We’ve used Cynar multiple times, as it’s both accessible here in British Columbia and incredibly versatile. In this case, its identity as a carciofo amaro aligns beautifully with Paranubes–sharing earthy, vegetal, and herbal notes–while also contributing caramel, cola, and molasses undertones that anchor the pineapple.

The use of pineapple–both as a rum and a syrup–is an inspired choice. It amplifies the subtle tropical notes already present in Paranubes while adding brightness and cohesion to the drink.

Here, I used Planteray Stiggins’ Fancy Pineapple Rum, a standout in the category. It infuses pineapple rind into rum before distillation, then blends that with fruit-infused dark rum. The result is rich and layered: smoky pineapple, baking spices, caramel, and citrus.

Those pineapple notes are then gently reinforced by a touch of pineapple syrup and lifted by the oils expressed from a muddled and royal stirred lime button. A dash of Angostura ties everything together with its familiar spice profile.

Mint on the nose introduces the drink, with the agricole funk waiting just behind it. The first sip delivers a rounded sweetness from the rums, Cynar, and pineapple syrup. As it moves across the mid-palate, the more savory and vegetal elements emerge–lime oil, herbal bitterness, and that distinctive agricole character. The finish leans into bitterness and spice, with Cynar, Angostura, and the rum’s earthy qualities combining to evoke something like pineapple enjoyed in the wild–bark and all.

Like its namesake, the Cyrano blends courage (in combining disparate elements), restraint (in avoiding excessive sweetness), and a touch of rebellion (in doubling down on rum). Whether that makes it an unlovable hero is up to you.

The Cyrano earned its place this week thanks to a group of male friends of mine–though, admittedly, they didn’t experience this exact version with Paranubes or the lime button. Even so, it stood out as their favorite among a handful of options I presented during what I call “Guy Movie Night.”

Guy Movie Night is a tradition I carried over from my time in Portland: an excuse to gather a few friends, enjoy a couple drinks, and watch a film my wife has no interest in. There’s a running joke that men need an “activity” to gather. In this case, the activity is the movie.

I didn’t consciously build this tradition from any academic framework—but there is literature that explains why it works.

In the 1990s, the so-called “crisis of masculinity” emerging from the excesses of the 1980s gave rise to the mythopoetic men’s movement–captured most notably in Robert Bly’s Iron John.

Bly argued that modern society had produced “soft males”–men disconnected from their fathers, from physical labor, and from meaningful rites of passage. His metaphor of the “Wild Man” suggested that something essential had been buried beneath layers of social conditioning.

For Bly, the problem wasn’t toxicity—it was underdevelopment.

His solution leaned inward: initiation, mentorship, and reconnection with Jungian archetypal masculine energies–the King, Warrior, Magician, and Lover. It was a psychological and symbolic path toward wholeness.

But that framework had a blind spot. It treated masculinity primarily as a spiritual problem, largely ignoring the structural changes already underway. As long as stable paths to work, family, and status existed, that omission held.

Fast forward to Scott Galloway’s Notes on Being a Man, and that foundation has eroded.

Galloway’s diagnosis is far less mythic and far more pragmatic. The issue isn’t just disconnection from identity–it’s disconnection from opportunity. Where Bly saw emotional repression, Galloway sees drift, isolation, and economic irrelevance.

And his prescription follows: do hard things, build skills, get in shape, be dependable. Contribution over contemplation.

Whether Guy Movie Night is mythic or structural, it endures. It’s a space to share the bumps along the road, to connect without overengineering it, and yes–to watch a movie.

On this particular night, fresh off its Academy Award win for Best Supporting Actress (Amy Madigan), we watched Weapons. There’s a certain irony in a group of guys gathering to watch a film titled Weapons–traditionally masculine-coded tools for protection or attack–only to have a female antagonist drive the narrative.

We enjoyed it very much: 👍👍👍👍 out of 4.

When you’re gathering with friends–with or without a Cyrano in hand–I raise a glass to making the effort. Because more often than not, it’s those friendships that help us keep our footing while the world keeps spinning.

Cheers! 🥃👃🌎