Vancouver

• 1 ⅔ oz London dry gin
• ⅔ oz Benedictine
• 1⁄2 oz Dry Vermouth
• 1⁄2 oz Sweet Vermouth
• 1 dash Orange bitters
• Stir with ice, strain into a cold Nick and Nora or coupe glass 
• Garnish with an amarena cherry and orange twist

Happy Friday, friends.

The more time you spend with something, the more you begin to see the underlying forms that all variations stem from. This is, in part, what Malcolm Gladwell was referring to in his 10,000-hours concept–that mastery reveals structure. Knowing those underlying forms helps one navigate the varieties they inspire, while the hours spent doing the work builds confidence in applying them. 

In the cocktail world, there are a few foundational  forms that spawn countless variations. The Negroni, for example, is a three-ingredient cocktail composed of equal parts base spirit, bitter amaro, and fortified wine. Similarly, the Last Word is a four-ingredient cocktail of equal parts consisting of a base spirit, a sweetening liqueur (such as maraschino or aperol), an herbal liqueur (like green or yellow Chartreuse), and citrus (lemon or lime). Both of these originals date back to the late 1800s, though they were birthed in very different parts of the world. 

One of the most enduring forms is the martini, a two-ingredient cocktail built with a base spirit and fortified wine, typically in a 2-5:1 ratio. This structure has given rise to two primary branches: the Martini and the Manhattan. One dry, clear and cool in tone, the other wet, sweet and warm. 

The Manhattan branch, in particular, has inspired a multitude of neighborhood and city variations. One of my favorites is the Toronto, which substitutes a bitter amaro and a sweetener in place of the fortified wine. This led me to wonder whether Canada’s biggest west coast city had a namesake cocktail of its own.

Enter the Vancouver. Sometimes referred to as Vancouver 2.0, this recipe weaves the dry, cool profile of the Martini with the sweet, warm character of the Manhattan–bridging the best of both worlds.

It begins with London dry gin, the hallmark of a classic Martini, and then diverges toward the sweet, herbal warmth of Bénédictine D.O.M. I love Bénédictine, especially in New Orleans-style cocktails where it mingles with sweet vermouth. La Louisiane and the Vieux Carré are two of my favorites. 

Finally, the Vancouver incorporates both sweet and dry vermouths, making this a “perfect” cocktail by definition–a term used when splitting the vermouth into 2 equal parts for a more balanced result. Here, the dry vermouth amplifies the cooler juniper notes of the London dry gin, while the sweet vermouth enhances the warm, herbal depth of the Bénédictine. 

Finished with a dash of orange bitters and an orange twist, this cocktail greets you with citrus on the nose, followed by the warm herbal sweetness of Bénédictine and sweet vermouth. As it lingers to the back palate, the cooler, astringent juniper notes come to the fore, tied together by the subtle herbal tones of the dry vermouth. It’s an ambitious balancing act between sweet and dry, but the Vancouver pulls it off beautifully.

I chose the Vancouver to highlight this week because it mirrors this moment our family is currently in. It was our daughter’s first week in her aerial arts program at CircusWest in Vancouver, British Columbia, and my wife and I couldn’t be more thrilled for her. 

She has integrated into Canada faster than either of us have since arriving–moving into her own apartment, finding a job, taking an evening dance class, and building a new circle of friends–and now she’s embarking on her dream of performing professionally.

When researching our move, we were comforted knowing that Canada’s socialized healthcare meant she could chase her creative passions without fear of losing coverage. We also discovered that Canada is home to Cirque Du Soleil, the global leader in aerial performance, supported by a network of circus schools nationwide that nurture the next generation of performers.

And yet, even though she’s only a four-hour drive away, empty nesting has been its own unique challenge. Here again, the Vancouver cocktail resonates: the bittersweet blend of missing her daily presence while feeling the warmth and pride of watching her fly toward her dreams. 

So with a Vancouver in hand, I toast to her, and to every parent helping their young adults take flight.

Fly on, little wing. Fly.