Devil’s Barrel cocktail

The Caesar is the most well-known Canadian cocktail, but there are many more made-in-Canada drinks — featuring local spirits, and created by the country’s top bartenders — waiting to be discovered, imbibed and ordered again and again. To help you navigate the country’s liquid landscape, food writer Victoria Walsh and her husband Scott McCallum have written a handy book called A Field Guide to Canadian Cocktails (Penguin Random House, 214 pages, $24.95).

A Field Guide to Canadian Cocktails.

A Field Guide to Canadian Cocktails.

It’s a mouth-watering collection of cocktail recipes from across Canada that includes a B.C. cherry-flavoured Ogopogo Sour, the delicious A Bit of Northern Hospitality from Calgary’s Proof, and even a St. John’s Sling.

I went paging through the book looking for a tipple with whisky and lemon (two ingredients I have on hand), and settled on the Devil’s Barrel cocktail, created by Christopher Cho of Ayden Kitchen and Bar in Saskatoon (he previously worked a stint at Charcut and also helped create the cocktail menu at Charbar). I didn’t have a couple of the ingredients called for, so made substitutions (see recipe, below).

The drink is bitter at first sip, from the Aperol and grapefruit bitters, but it’s tempered by the nice round flavour of apple, and just a touch of honey. My husband was hoping for something more whisky-forward, but agreed that it grew on him as the large ice cube wept water and diluted the bitter bite. If you’re adventurous with your drinks, it’s a curious winter sip that’s a citrusy departure from the usual suspects.

The Devil's Barrel is strong, tart and bitter. Not a starter cocktail.

The Devil’s Barrel is strong, tart and bitter. Not a starter cocktail.

Devil’s Barrel

  • 1 oz Forty Creek Barrel Select Whisky (I used Alberta Premium)
  • 3/4 oz Aperol
  • 1/2 oz calvados (I used Crown Royal Regal Apple)
  • 1/4 oz honey syrup (equal parts honey and water)
  • 1/4 oz fresh lemon juice
  • 2 dashes grapefruit bitters
  • Ice
  • 1 grapefruit peel strip

Method: Pour all ingredients except ice and grapefruit peel into a cocktail shaker. Add a handful of ice cubes and shake. Double strain into an old-fashioned glass with a large ice cube. Spritz drink with oils from the grapefruit peel, and rub on the outside rim of the glass, then add as a garnish.

— Recipe by Christopher Cho, Ayden Kitchen and Bar, Saskatoon

Blue Lagoon: the cocktail

Never heard of a Blue Lagoon cocktail? You’re not alone. For those readers who were tweens or teens in 1980, those two words together will most likely conjure images of Blue Lagoon, the movie, in which a ship-wrecked Brooke Shields and Christopher Atkins get hot and heavy beside a very blue lagoon.

Remember this movie? Evidently it inspired a tropical cocktail of the same name.

Remember this movie? Evidently it inspired a cocktail of the same name.

Evidently, this cheesy 80s island love story inspired a tropical 80s cocktail of the same name, the Blue Lagoon. It’s a member of the cocktail genre I call “blue cocktails,” that includes the Blue Hawaiian, the Blue Margarita and the Blue Monday. All of these drinks are coloured blue by Blue Curacao, which is actually an orange-flavoured liqueur that’s been dyed blue. (When cocktails veered toward sweet and fruity in the 70s and 80s, blue curaçao showed up for the party.)

I’ve been hearing for a while that 80s cocktails are making a comeback. Bartenders are taking Amaretto sours and pina coladas and margaritas and making them better (usually that means less sweet, and with fresh juices or housemade syrups instead of sour mix). This is a good thing. But I kind of thought blue drinks would be overlooked because of their neon colour. So, when I saw that the Bourbon Room was featuring not only an 80s selection but a blue cocktail on said menu, I couldn’t resist.

So. Very. Pretty.

Blue Lagoon cocktail at the Bourbon Room. So. Very. Pretty.

Bartender Fern Zevnik has taken some liberties with the Blue Lagoon (using bourbon instead of vodka, for one), but the result is something that’s balanced, delicious and beautifully blue. Go ahead and dive in!

Blue Lagoon

  • 2 oz Buffalo Trace bourbon
  • 1 oz Giffard Blue Curacao
  • 3/4 oz housemade mead syrup (or use honey simple syrup)
  • 3/4 oz fresh lemon juice

Method: Combine ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice. Shake, then strain into a chilled coupe glass.

— Recipe courtesy Fern Zevnik

Goodbye GoodNites!

Sleep has always been a challenge for Bennett, so much so that we make sure nothing disrupts it. We’ve done the same bedtime routine for years, complete with having him wear a bedtime diaper, reading him two stories and giving him two big sips of water right before lights out. We keep the bathroom light on, the room temperature cool, and hope that he sleeps through the airplane noise.

Bennett asleep holding Peppy, his lovey.

Bennett asleep holding Peppy, his lovey.

Before he started sleeping through the night at age seven, nighttime potty training wasn’t even on our radar. It seemed cruel to take away the GoodNites and give him yet another reason to wake up — soaked through and smelling like pee, no less — in the middle of the night. Not to mention I didn’t fancy stripping sheets in the dead of night, either.

And yet, despite his new sleep awesomeness, for the past year we’ve continued buying Bennett nighttime pull-ups because he woke up every morning with a wet diaper. I just assumed he wasn’t ready to ditch the GoodNites. He certainly wasn’t showing any of the “signs of readiness” I had written about for a recent assignment. And because Bennett’s expressive language is delayed (a function of his autism and a genetic condition called 18q-), he never said, “So Mommy, you realize that I’m holding my pee all night, only to wake up in the morning and take a giant whiz in my diaper, right?”

We suspected that was his M.O., but we had no proof. And anyway, the routine was comfortable and it worked. I feared that taking away the diaper and the bedtime water — two crucial parts of the nighttime routine for Bennett’s autistic brain — would be cataclysmic for all involved. Picturing the bedtime meltdown, I was okay with buying GoodNites for eternity.

But one night last week, Bennett botched his plan to continue wearing nighttime pull-ups into adulthood. He was having a hard time settling and he ended up using the bathroom (No. 2) at about 9:30. At that point I checked his diaper and saw he had already peed in it (while awake!), so I put him in a new one. When he woke up at 6:30 the next morning his diaper was dry. There it was, proof that his bladder is mature enough to hold urine all night long. And also proof that when given a diaper (and water at bedtime), Bennett will pee in it rather than the toilet. It’s like we’d been enabling him.

Not wanting to squander our window of opportunity, we acted quickly. At afternoon snack I announced the new rules: “Bennett, now that you’re eight and such a big boy, you don’t need to wear a bedtime diaper anymore. And since you won’t be wearing a diaper, the new rule is no water after dinner.” (I didn’t bother getting Bennett’s buy in for this daring diaper experiment — as my Today’s Parent story suggested — because I knew if I asked him, “Do you want to wear underpants to bed instead of a diaper?” he would just say, “No!” We’ve learned many times that we have to the architects of Bennett’s developmental milestones — he’d probably still be wearing daytime diapers if we hadn’t taken them away four years ago.)

At bedtime, Bennett was not down with the new rules. He refused to put on underpants or his sleeper (I had to mostly dress him for bed that night) and even ran to the bathroom to try and fetch a GoodNite (I had hidden them). When it came time for the bedtime water, I reiterated the new rule and was met with resistance: “Water, Mommy. Please. Please? I want water! Please, Mommy!” I mean, it was rather sad, like he was approaching dehydration in the desert, but mean Mommy wouldn’t let him slake his thirst. It wasn’t the tantrum I had envisioned, but it did take him a good two hours to fall asleep, and then he was up about three times in the night and he peed in the toilet at about 1 a.m. I imagine the GoodNites had become a sort of security blanket and he was scared to sleep without one. He awoke nice and dry in the morning. Success!

It’s been a week now and Bennett has only had two accidents, both early last week — one because we weren’t strict enough with the water rule in the evening, and another because he had swimming one night and I think he swallows a lot of pool water. The crazy thing is, he now wakes up dry and goes about his morning of watching Super Why and eating breakfast without using the bathroom first. Mr. Iron Bladder can evidently hold it for 10 or 11 hours. To think of the money we could have saved if only we’d said goodbye to the GoodNites earlier!

I jest, of course. Who knows if Bennett would have been ready even six months ago? As the week has gone on he’s accepted the fact the diapers are gone and that water ends at dinner, forming a new routine in his head. He’s settling better at bedtime and sleeping through the night again. Really, it hasn’t been as painful as I thought, and I can breathe easier knowing I won’t have to source astronaut-sized diapers for Bennett in a few years’ time.