Matador in a Plum Orchard

• 1 oz Select Aperitivo
• ½ oz Rye whisky
• ½ oz Nikka Coffey Grain Japanese Whisky
• ½ oz Sweet Italian vermouth
• ½ oz Japanese plum wine (umeshu)
• Stir with ice for 20-30 seconds. 
• Strain over a rock of ice into a chilled Old Fashioned glass
• Spritz and garnish with an orange twist.

Happy Friday, friends!

Most of the cocktails I share here are the product of my own research–digging through books and online rabbit holes–or the occasional burst of at‑home inspiration.

This one is a little different.

This is the first time someone else’s creative response to my prompt has become the featured cocktail.

Say hello to Matador in a Plum Orchard.

Thanks to my Kelowna Newcomers Club (KNC) duties, I recently brought our Cocktails & Spirits Tasting group to Born To Shake–a home‑bar retail shop by day and award‑winning cocktail bar by night. They stock tools, syrups, bitters, and kits, then flip the lights and run one of Kelowna’s most respected bar programs in the evening. Their motto is simple and perfect:

Our KNC event featured co‑owner and Principal Shaker Shayne Labis, who led a tutorial on the “why” behind a signature Born To Shake Old Fashioned. For many members, it was a first real look under the hood of a modern cocktail build. We followed that with a tasting of Old Fashioneds and a spread of small plates from their brand‑new food menu, driven by a newly hired chef.

The whole experience was superb.

Afterward, I was invited to stay for a post‑event cocktail–time to decompress and actually sit at the bar I’d just helped fill. I was introduced to one of BTS’s bartenders, Jess, and instead of ordering off the menu, I opened with a provocation, eyeing a bottle on the back bar:

“Select Aperitivo is a better Campari than Campari. Thoughts?”

Select Aperitivo is a classic Venetian bitter liqueur created in 1920, and still relatively new to my own home bar. It lives in that middle ground between Aperol’s sweetness and Campari’s hard, orange‑bitter edge, but what sets it apart is its complexity: bitter roots and barks, cinnamon, clove, and a more amaro‑like depth under the citrus.

We talked briefly about how Select’s broader spice bouquet gives it more dimension than Campari, which can read a bit one‑note by comparison when you’ve been around the block with amaros.

So I laid down a challenge:

“I’d love a Boulevardier‑style cocktail that swaps Select Aperitivo for Campari, with whisky and vermouth adjustments to match.”

Jess came back with Matador in a Plum Orchard–a Boulevardier by way of Japan, where two of the three “equal parts” are split between traditional and Japanese counterparts. The whisky is split between a Canadian rye and Nikka Coffey Grain. The vermouth is split between classic Italian sweet vermouth and Japanese plum wine.

New to Flavor Notes, Nikka Coffey Grain Whisky is a blended grain whisky from Japan, named for the Coffey stills imported from Scotland–not for coffee flavor. It’s made primarily from corn and aged in ex‑bourbon American oak, resulting in a smooth, almost bourbon‑like profile. On the palate it’s rich and creamy, with notes of candied mango, orange marmalade, vanilla, toasted coconut, and a gentle cinnamon‑leaning baking spice.

Also new here: the Japanese plum wine. Jess used Plum Gekkeikan, produced by a historic Kyoto brewery operating since 1637. It stands out because the Wakayama ume plums are fermented using traditional sake‑brewing methods rather than simply steeped in neutral spirit and sugar. The result is a honeyed, slightly syrupy mouthfeel with flavors of ripe plum nectar, toffee, apple, and pear, and a long, smooth finish.

In the glass, the citrus from the orange twist leads on the nose, ushering you into the bitter orange of the Select, quickly brightened by the plum, pear, and apple notes of the umeshu. As the sip moves across the palate, the cinnamon and clove from the Select and the vanilla/spice from the Nikka step forward, knit together by the Italian vermouth, giving the drink structure and weight. On the back palate, the spices are the last ones standing, delivering a semi‑bitter finish that sends you right back to the plum brightness of the next sip.

Matador in a Plum Orchard turned out to be the perfect closer for our monthly Cocktails & Spirits Tasting event–and a very civilized way to end a long week.

While cocktails are a natural fit for the Cocktails & Spirits series at KNC, the club is much broader than glassware and garnishes. We host a wide mix of events: active, cultural, and gastronomic.

Case in point: I also co‑lead a bicycling group, with weekly Wednesday rides and bi‑weekly Saturday rides. Last Saturday, a group of us rode about 40 kilometers from Oyama north to Coldstream and back, tracing the shoreline of Kalamalka Lake–famous for the jade color it takes on in summertime.

I’m grateful for the chance to share an activity I love–road cycling–with the club, because it’s been woven through so many chapters of my life.

As a kid, it was how a friend and I got to the next town over to hit the only comic book shop within reach.

In high school and university, it was cross‑training alongside water polo and swim workouts.

In grad school, it was my daily commute to and from class.

In my early dating life with my wife, I experimented with criterium racing (I didn’t last long once the crashes started adding up).

When we first moved from DC to Portland, a bike tour of the Oregon coast became our inaugural family vacation–and the last trip I got to select unilaterally.

During our triathlon years, it was a core pillar alongside swimming and running.

In our last decade in Portland, it became the default bonding activity with my best friend once we’d both moved beyond distance running.

And now, it’s a way for me to connect with KNC members across the Okanagan, exploring road and gravel routes that I’m still discovering myself.

Cycling’s not just “exercise” for me; it’s also been a mental health lifeline.

Back in 2016–17, after a long stint of running ended with a knee injury, a first layoff in tech, and the collapse of a startup effort I’d poured myself into, something in me finally gave way. I slipped into a depression I hadn’t seen coming.

It felt like all the energy had drained from my body. I struggled to get out of bed. I couldn’t reliably help my daughter get to school or my wife walk the dogs. I couldn’t muster the strength to engage with pretty much anything.

Some days were slightly better than others. Only slightly.

There were more moments than I’d like to admit where I wondered if my family would be better off without the burden I felt I’d become. Thankfully, my family never agreed with that assessment.

Slowly, with my wife’s encouragement, I found a therapist. His first directive was simple and brutally practical: start moving again.

Intellectually, I’d always known that exercise helped with mental health. I’d read about endorphins, stress reduction, all the usual suspects. I just didn’t appreciate how powerful that effect could be when you’re truly low.

It turns out exercise is not just “helpful” for depression; it’s often a first‑line treatment. Clinical research has shown that regular physical activity can reduce depressive symptoms as effectively as standard antidepressant medications or talk therapy. The exact program matters less than the fact that you’re consistently doing something that raises your heart rate and gets your body engaged.

So I got back on the bike. Eventually, I found my way back into another Customer Insights role in tech. Over the past decade, through multiple transitions–some chosen, some not–the bike has been my path back to myself.

When the COVID pandemic hit, cycling also became more accessible at home via Peloton. A room away, I could still get the same physical and mental reset, even when the outside world felt like it was closing in.

And as you can probably tell, between layoffs and my recent limbo period in Canada before being able to work again, my time on the bike has only increased.

So I raise this Matador in a Plum Orchard to everyone who finds themselves between jobs–whether AI is the culprit or not. Keep moving. Keep riding. Keep doing the thing that reminds your body and mind what “alive” feels like.

So when the next opportunity presents itself, you’ll be in the best possible shape–physically, mentally, and emotionally–to step into the ring and win the fight.

Cheers! 🥃🚲🧠