Doubloon

• 1 1⁄2 oz Cream Sherry
• ¾ oz Smith & Cross Jamaican Rum
• ¾ oz Amaro Montenegro
• Stir in ice for 20-30 seconds, strain over a large rock into an Old Fashioned glass
• Garnish with an expressed orange zest

Happy Friday, friends!

This week felt productive–both personally and nationally here in Canada. Prime Minister Mark Carney secured a Liberal majority through a combination of Conservative defections and by-election wins. And on my end, another Cocktails & Spirits Tasting for the Kelowna Newcomers Club is in the books–this time at Urban Distilleries (more on that next week).

So, to close out a week like that, I was in the mood for something full-flavored. Something that builds on what I know, while nudging me further along the learning curve.

Enter: the Doubloon.

An original from J.E. Clapham’s The Smith & Cross Cocktail Book, this is a Negroni-style riff that plays with structure in a way that’s both subtle and effective. At its core, it follows the familiar three-part harmony–but instead of equal parts, it doubles down on the base, inverting expectations by placing Cream Sherry front and center.

And that changes everything.

You may recall our dive into sherry with the Trident–still one of my favorites–but Cream Sherry takes us somewhere richer. Sweeter than most styles–save for Moscatel and PX–it brings a rounded, almost dessert-adjacent depth that sets the tone here.

Supporting it is Smith & Cross, a bottle we first explored in the Professional. This is no wallflower. Built from Wedderburn and Plummer pot still distillates, it’s a high-ester Jamaican rum that delivers unapologetic “hogo”: caramelized banana, pineapple, overripe fruit, spice. At Navy Strength (57%), it doesn’t ask for attention, it takes it.

Then there’s Amaro Montenegro, a familiar face from the Waterproof Watch. Forty botanicals working in quiet coordination: orange, coriander, cherry, vanilla, clove. It doesn’t dominate–it integrates.

Together, the three create something that feels both grounded and adventurous. Sweetness leads, funk follows, bitterness keeps it all honest. The orange zest ties it together with a bright aromatic lift.

Sweet citrus on the nose draws you in, setting the stage for a first sip that opens with the dried red fruit richness of the cream sherry, subtly lifted by a thread of Jamaican hogo. As it moves across the palate, Amaro Montenegro’s botanicals begin to separate and define themselves–orange, spice, and gentle bitterness–before giving way to a long, warming rum finish that lingers with intent. Spirit-forward and composed, the Doubloon carries itself with a quiet authority, easy to imagine in the hands of emperors or captains charting their next move–not with haste, but with conviction.

The Doubloon—historically a coin of trade, of empire, of buried treasure—feels like an appropriate metaphor. A compact object carrying disproportionate value. A small thing with weight.

Every so often, a moment arrives where leadership, timing, and circumstance align in a way that feels… consequential.

Not loud. Not performative. But quietly structural.

That’s how I’ve come to view the early tenure of Prime Minister Mark Carney.

Carney didn’t arrive through the traditional political pipeline. His résumé reads more central bank than campaign trail—Bank of Canada, Bank of England. His career has been defined not by rhetoric, but by stewardship: managing systems, stabilizing volatility, and—most importantly—maintaining trust under pressure.

And that mindset has translated, somewhat unexpectedly, into governance.

Rather than projecting influence through volume, Carney has leaned into alignment. At forums like Davos, he’s emphasized the role of “middle powers”--countries like Canada, the UK, the Nordics, Australia, Japan, India. Nations with credibility and shared interests, if not overwhelming scale.

What he seems to understand is simple, but often overlooked: influence doesn’t always come from size. Sometimes it comes from coordination.

Like central banking, where signaling can move markets as effectively as action, Carney’s approach has focused on restoring predictability—strengthening relationships that had drifted toward the transactional. Trade, climate, financial stability—these are not headline-grabbing arenas, but they are where durable alignment is built.

And domestically, that approach appears to be resonating.

This week’s Liberal majority is more than a political win–it’s structural. In a parliamentary system, a majority government changes the operating environment entirely. It provides runway.

Policy can be sequenced. Priorities can be pursued without constant negotiation. The signal–to markets, to allies, to Canadians–is one of coherence and capacity.

For Carney, that matters.

Because the shifts he’s pursuing–economic positioning, international alignment, climate-forward investment–aren’t short-term plays. They require consistency. Time. Credibility.

And credibility, more than anything, is the currency he’s spent a career building.

So what does it all amount to?

Not a revolution. Not a dramatic reordering. Something quieter. More durable.

A recalibration.

A steady hand at the tiller. A belief that coordination still matters. That trust can still be built. That progress, more often than not, comes from those willing to do the quiet work well.

Much like this cocktail.

Balanced. Intentional. Built to last.

So I raise this coin of the realm–the Doubloon–to a week of productivity, to systems that hold, and to the kind of leadership that understands that real value isn’t always loud.

Cheers. 🪙🍁🥃