Sometimes it is best to sit inside and watch the changing images outside. A wintry day is such an occasion. I must however intercept that logic by reporting that early this morning  – because of a scheduled drive – we confronted the challenge of a heavy snowfall by traveling to Smiths Falls to deliver a curious gift to friends. The drive was passable but not without its treachery. One small car made the mistake of accelerating too quickly upon snow and ended swerving back and forth before regaining a correct frontal alignment.  Fortunately at the time there were no other cars within immediate vicinity but a number soon approached and it was apparent that everyone was on alert.

Having recovered our settlement for the moment, I am happy to gaze upon the snow covered fields from afar. We have nonetheless one further duty to perform, this time at the local hardware store.  A technician came this morning to exam the apartment heat pump. He has directed us to a compatible (though preferable) filter which differs from what is already installed. Making this short jaunt to the hardware store is no grave inconvenience on this otherwise tempered day.

But before carrying on I wish to share with you that it evolved from the chat with the technician that he is of Dutch descent. I told him it did not surprise me other than to assert that I was correct in my observation. While listening to him babble I was genuinely moved to think of him as distinctive. What struck me was the candid way in which he spoke, exchanging fact without any trace of flavour or disguise; rather he spoke simple straightforward commentary, informative without colour. Strangely this is a trait of the several people whom I have known who are Dutch. 🇳🇱 The acquaintances go back to my youth while spending the summer in Stockholm when I met and played with the son of the Dutch Ambassador and a friend of my sister’s named Monique Borkhama.  Both had the similar characteristics of candidness and forthrightness. Subsequently I worked for Dutch immigrants to Almonte who purchased a farm and other residential real estate.  Invariably the relationships were direct and untainted by any measure of innuendo. While this may seem nothing more than axiomatic conversation, it is in fact unparalleled exchange in most popular discussions wherein people routinely expand and reimagine the details of what they purport to account. I am not saying people lie (which of course they possibly do); rather that they employ their words to manifest what they obviously consider they or others equate to desirable. It is an extra level of narrative. I know this because I am hopelessly guilty of the precise misconduct. I offer no apology for the deceit because that is how I see things. Everything for me is singular, enviable, preferable. My sometimes trifling sense of humour contributes to the theatric nature of the monologue and therefore distances me from the less contrived Dutch vernacular which I so admire.

Our visit to the grocery store confirmed the obstruction of the snow. The parking lot was empty. Notwithstanding the displeasure of skidding roads and salty muck, we (by which I mean my partner) completed our short grocery list and more.  Including the discovery of a 6-year old cheddar by Agropur. Reading between the lines of what follows, I am guessing the Nova Scotia legislature had a hand in promoting the Province throughout the transactions.

The Agropur Dairy Cooperative, usually shortened to Agropur, is headquartered in Saint-Hubert, Longueuil, Quebec, Canada. Agropur Cooperative is a North American dairy cooperative founded in 1938. It is a supplier of products for the industrial, retail and food service sectors. It also has a number of its own consumer brands and products.

In January 2017, Agropur acquired the Nova Scotia-based company Scotsburn, expanding its offering of ice cream and novelty products. At the time of the acquisition, Scotsburn had annual sales of more than $150 million.

In 2022, Agropur made a significant $34 million investment in its ice cream and frozen novelties plant novelties in Truro, Nova Scotia, Canada.

What began this morning as a simple filler for our self-imposed absence from the apartment during the planned attendance of our housekeeper ended being a day of entire satisfaction in spite of the challenging weather. The technical advice of the heat pump man has confirmed a longstanding matter of concern (not by me of course, by my partner). This esoteric satisfaction combined with the domestic reassurances constitute unqualified achievement! Not exactly just another wintry day.

Post Scriptum:
Oh, and should you care to know what prompted all this activity in the first place, that “curious gift” to our friends was the recipe for a Sidecar cocktail together with the alcoholic necessities sans the lemon.  They routinely dignify the evening relapse with a cocktail and a chat.

THE SIDECAR
INGREDIENTS

• 1½ ounces cognac
• ¾ ounce orange liqueur
• ¾ ounce lemon juice, freshly squeezed
• Garnishes: orange twist, sugar rim (optional)

STEPS

• Coat the rim of a martini glass with sugar, if
desired, and set aside
• Add the cognac, orange liqueur and lemon juice to a shaker
with ice and shake until well-chilled
• Strain into the prepared glass
• Garnish with an orange twist

THE SIDECAR

The Sidecar, with a century of history behind it, remains a favorite today. The tart, dry cocktail features cognac, orange liqueur and fresh lemon juice, plus a sugared rim.

The Sidecar was likely invented around World War I. It graced the pages of two books in 1922: “Harry’s ABC of Mixing Cocktails” by Harry MacElhone and “Cocktails and How to Mix Them” by Robert Vermeire.

Both books listed the recipe with equal parts cognac, Cointreau and lemon juice, but subsequent versions altered the ratios, calling for two parts cognac, one part Cointreau and one part lemon. The latter formula is used for this recipe.

The sugared rim is optional when making a Sidecar, but considering that this cocktail lands on the drier side of the sweetness spectrum, a few sugar granules with each sip provide a welcome treat.

How the Sidecar got its name is a source of debate: Both a French and English bar claim to have invented the cocktail for a customer who arrived at the location in the sidecar of a motorcycle. That seems plausible enough.

Bar veteran Dale DeGroff, however, says the drink’s name references the mixture that’s left in the shaker after straining and served in a shot glass on the side. This bonus is called a sidecar.

You don’t have to serve a little shot alongside your Sidecar, but it’s a great segue to tell the origin story of the cocktail.

Photo and edited text from liquor.com