DISPATCHES

This summer I stumbled across my mom’s green tomato mincemeat recipe in one of her old cookbooks. A prairie classic she made most autumns, it’s rich, spiced and full of flavour - the kind of preserve that feels festive even before the holidays arrive. I’ve made a few batches already and can’t wait to enjoy these jars in tarts, pies, cakes this cozy season!

As Farmer’s Son Co. enters its tenth holiday season, I’m opening my fragrance archive for the first time. Labworks Discovery is a collection of one-of-a-kind candles inspired by Manitoba’s prairies, lakes, forests and winters - pieces pulled from years of notes, blends, and memories. This is my way of leaning into fragrance as both craft and art, sharing stories of place and emotion through scent.

A behind-the-scenes look at how things have shifted at Farmer’s Son Co. over the past few months. Dan reflects on the reality of running a Canadian artisan fragrance studio during a time of sourcing challenges, supplier changes and rising costs. From fragrance reformulations to format changes, this is a mid-year update on what’s staying, what’s evolving and how FSCo. continues to push forward.

I don't know about you, but a good Caesar just hits differently when the chores are done and the sun’s still out.

It might be the ritual of it. The squeeze of lemon. The hit of salt. The quiet satisfaction of the first sip after you’ve been in the garden all morning or finally sat down at the cabin with your feet up and the day still has a little stretch to it.

I’ve always loved a Caesar. Years ago, two close friends and I took a weekend road trip across Manitoba on a mission to find the best one. We stopped at small-town watering holes, hotel lounges and gravel road bars. We ordered Caesars with breakfast, lunch and anything in between.

At the time, the Alexandria Hotel in Virden had our vote. Briny. Spicy. Ice cold. No frills. Exactly what we were looking for.

This version is what I’ve landed on since then.

It’s not trying to be fancy. Just fresh. Clean. Properly balanced.
The kind of Caesar that feels right when you’ve earned it.

The difference for me? I start with tomato juice. Not a mix or a ready-to-pour tomato & clam.

Tomato juice gives you a clean base, letting you build the flavour yourself. Add what you want. Leave out what you don’t. You end up with something that tastes like it was made on purpose. Not poured from a bottle and masked with garnish.

Then comes the gin (vodka works fine too if that's more your vibe). Then lemon juice. Pickle brine. A little soy sauce. Worcestershire (in my case, lots of Worcestershire). A few dashes of hot sauce. Sometimes I go with celery salt. Other times I use a few drops of celery bitters.

No shaking. Just a good stir to bring it together.

Did I mention that you'll find a selection of bar spoons in the Farmer's Son Co. shoppe?

I love to rim my glasses with Provisions Caesar Salt (you'll find it in our shoppe too!). Flavourful. Balanced. Sharp without being overpowering. Did I mention that it's Canadian?

I keep it simple with a Triana spicy cocktail stick. They're fantastic! A little heat. A little texture. A bit of bite that compliments my Caesar instead of overwhelming it.

No olives. No skewers stacked with half a grocery store.
Just the right kind of savoury.

But like, you do you. There's no wrong way to garnish a Caesar. 

The Recipe: The Sunday Caesar

1½ oz gin or vodka
4 oz high-quality tomato juice
½ oz fresh lemon juice
½ oz pickle brine
½ tsp soy sauce
2 dashes Worcestershire
2 to 3 dashes hot sauce
If you like, a pinch of celery salt or a few dashes of celery bitters

Rim: Provisions Caesar Salt
Garnish: Triana spicy cocktail stick

Run a lemon wedge around the rim of a tall glass and dip it into Caesar salt.
Fill the glass with fresh ice.
In a shaker or mixing tin, combine everything and stir.
Pour into your prepared glass. Find a vintage one if you can. It makes your Caesar taste that much better. I promise. Then, garnish with a Triana stick.

This is the Caesar I make when I’ve been out in the garden for a few hours and want something cold and savoury. When we’re at the cabin and the sun hasn’t gone down yet. When there’s no rush to be anywhere else.

Or on the dock, when that game of ladder ball is getting a little too competitive and someone’s insisting the last round didn’t count.

It’s crisp. Balanced. Just the right amount of bold.

Unmistakably Canadian. With a little twist.
And exactly what I want in my hand when the day’s still wide open.

Cheers,
Dan

If you’ve spent any time in Manitoba, you already know.
Honey dill isn’t just a sauce. It’s a thing.

You’ll find it on chicken finger plates in small-town cafés, rink concessions and places where the booths are cracked and the ketchup bottles are sticky. It’s sweet. It’s tangy. And if it’s done properly, there’s a lot of dill. It’s got a bite to it. A little zip. And for reasons no one can fully explain, it stuck around.

So when someone suggested turning it into a cocktail, I didn’t laugh. I said yes.

Because around these parts, we believe in the kinds of ideas that feel like home. Even when they sound a little strange at first. Especially when they do.

Let’s get one thing clear.

We didn’t pour honey dill sauce into a shaker.

We’re not monsters.

This started with a simple idea. What would it taste like if you took the feeling of honey dill and turned it into a drink?

We began with a good gin. Nothing fancy. Just something that plays well with herbs and citrus. From there, we made a honey syrup using Youngest Son Beekeeping’s Spun Honey. It’s a beautiful product harvested in the Austin and McGregor region of Manitoba and can be found in our West End Winnipeg shoppe.

We added fresh lemon juice to bring the tang. Thin slices of cucumber to keep it cool. And dill. SO MUCH DILL.

No muddling. No overthinking. Just everything into a shaker with ice, a hard shake and a quick double strain to catch the bits. What you end up with is something light, fresh and just a little unexpected. But in a good way.

The Recipe: Honey Dill Cocktail

2 oz gin (we're partial to Manitoba's own Patent 5)
¾ oz fresh lemon juice
¾ oz honey syrup (made with 1 part Youngest Son Beekeeping's spun honey to 1 part water, gently heated and cooled)
2 to 3 slices fresh cucumber
A few small sprigs fresh dill

Add everything to a shaker with ice. Shake hard.
Double strain into a coupe glass.
Garnish with a fresh dill sprig.

It’s bright. It’s herbaceous. It’s lightly sweet with a clean finish. It doesn’t taste like the sauce. But somehow, it still feels like it.

For the Manitoba-Hearted and the Sauce-Curious
This drink isn’t a gimmick. It’s a nod.

To the chicken fingers we grew up with.
To the sauce that showed up at every rink, every diner and every late-night takeout run.
To the moment you realized most people outside this province have never even heard of honey dill.
And to the pride that comes from being from somewhere that would come up with something this weird and this good.

So would you drink a honey dill cocktail?
I did. And I will again.

Alongside summer pantry favourites, cocktail tools and other small joys, you’ll find everything you need to make this drink your own.

Visit us in Winnipeg’s West End or browse the full collection online at farmerssonco.com

If you give the recipe a try, tag us, share it or send it to a friend who still asks for extra sauce with their chicken fingers.

Here’s to good ideas.
Here’s to making something weird and making it wonderful.
Here’s to Manitoba flavour.

Cheers,
Dan