Everyone who pays attention to pop culture knows how fashion trends work. A few “cool” people start doing something, which in turn prompts other people to imitate them so they too can be cool.

Brian Gardner’s Hye West Saloon started as refuge from the pandemic—a place where he and his wife could drink safely without worrying about bringing COVID into the home—but it has quickly turned into a social media sensation. Brian’s infinity barrel videos and live flights have captured the imagination of many home bar romantics, most of whom also caught the Bourbon bug during the lockdown.

Something I’ve wanted to do since the pandemic started was host a live happy hour where random people showed up to talk about booze, life, and whatever else was on their mind. What would make the program more fun would be if the person doing the talking wasn’t necessarily someone you associated with the business.

As we sat eating breakfast in Burbank this past weekend, my sister-in-law gave me the play-by-play of her recent visit to Disneyland with my nephews, detailing the temper-tantrums and torrential outbursts from parents and children alike as they attempted to navigate the crowded park on Veteran’s Day.

The connection between Calvados and America’s veterans may not be immediately clear to many, but it becomes clearer after you learn the French apple brandy is produced in Normandy, where the American’s landed on D-Day in WWII.

“This soil is only good for growing asparagus,” Drew Stapp, the regional sales manager for Jonata and The Hilt, said to me with a smirk as we looked at one of the Jonata vineyards in Ballard Canyon; “That’s what a prominent winemaker from Bordeaux once said to us when he visited the property.” 

The ultra-fine bubbles and delicate flavors of France’s top Champagnes have long been linked to special occasions and commemorations, marked for distinct moments in our lives. Yet, while the association is an important one, it’s also an image that a number of top Champagne producers would like to transcend.

When I first started getting serious about single malt whisky, I was 28 years old and I was told by my various mentors at the time to buy as many bottles as I could afford from three distilleries in particular: Port Ellen, Brora, and Rosebank.

Back then, the prices for these silent distilleries were nothing to sneeze at, but they were a fraction of what you see on the market today.

Like many people I know, I’ve spent the last year and a half of lockdown getting into new hobbies.

I’m not traveling. I’m not going out to eat very often. I’m not exploring the city’s cocktail culture. Hence, I’m spending that money on other interests.

The two genres that have specifically sucked me in during COVID are cigars and watches, which pretty much makes me the most basic dude on the planet right now.