From the Road

welcome to the weekly

I know this is a long time coming and thanks for your patience. Honestly, I have been a bit distracted. (Flooded basements, book launches and delays, depositing a daughter in university (in Scotland) and scrambling to finish the fall issue of Wm Brown.) Well, enough excuses: I want this newsletter to be informative and thoughtful, something that is worth opening and taking a look at. So basically, let’s just get started. There is a lot of cool stuff that I run across that gets lost in the IG dialogue or can’t always make it into the magazine—now you’ll find a pile of that content here. This will also be the permanent home and archive (available to paid subscribers- less than the cost of a Negroni! ) so you can reference the things you like—a favorite bar or restaurant of mine, the latest obsessions, finds and follies. I am also excited to see your comments (keep it nice folks, or else!), and to hear what you want more of, in terms of the Wm Brown world. I am happy to have you along for the ride, so buckle up and take a look.

CAR TALK

There is no mystery about my love for Land Rover. I have been driving them for 20 plus years. They have been great daily drivers (LR3/4) and terrific cars to scratch that “I need a vintage car” itch. No doubt there is a massive Defender craze out there right now fueled by social media. I get it—I love them too. They are a delight to look at and there is no more perfectly designed 4x4, in my opinion. The reality is they are not for the faint of heart to drive. They are an agricultural vehicle (read: glorified tractor) after all, and if you have driven any older series versions over a long distance you realize the pain and suffering they can inflict. Sure, the more modern ones and the modified ones can be man handled into a luxury drive ( my buddy Daniel at Brooklyn Coachworks does a terrific job of turning these beasts into a comfortable rides) but the reality is I spend hours behind the wheel and I prefer the Defender as a market runner ( read: short drive ) or something to get me into the field for a bit of wing shooting!

My first Land Rover ( and my first new car for that matter) was a Discovery Series II in 1999. I really loved that car even though there were a few annoying issues, more to do with the electronic seats than anything else, but annoying nonetheless. So now with all this Defender craziness, I have been looking at the Disco again through a different lens. I have been admiring its design aesthetics and mechanical prowess. The Series 1 version of the car (1992-1993) is a beauty and has really come into its own. It is beautiful, elegant, rugged (this is a Defender underneath after all), and moreover, a joy to drive. The 5 speed manual transmission with the 200 TDI is a sturdy workhorse of a truck that is comfortable, quiet and fun! I first fell for this car after I acquired one (the 1993 /4 door featured in Wm Brown) a Spanish import from Brooklyn Coachworks in a horse trade. Now I am a bit obsessed, to say the least, and I am binging in an earlier (‘92) 3 door version from Europe as we speak, in Negroni red.

I know that these may not be appealing to many and the Defender will always take center stage, but these Discos posses the purist expression of a Land Rover and with prices of vintage Defenders becoming out of reach for many these beauties can be found in good nick to scratch that vintage Landy Itch!

STYLE FINDS

I am mad about tweed, particularly Harris Tweed. Hell, I framed a whole editorial feature in my days as the men’s editor at Conde Nast Traveler around a trip to the Outer Hebrides in Scotland ( with Jake Mueser and David Coggins) in pursuit of the stuff and the story of its origins. Now, with my daughter Clara at college in Edinburgh, it means more trips to Scotland, and more poking around to find tweed. There are shops all around the country that sell finished garments in Harris Tweed, jacket, hats, even dopp kits and tweed wrapped flasks. I found great vintage pieces in second hand shops. But, nothing is more exciting than finding a one-off or a design you haven’t seen before in its raw unconstucted state on a fabric roll in a shop. This happened on my recent trip—just down the road from the school was the local high street where I found a very nondescript fabric shop.

It was a pretty standard shop except I noticed bolts of tweed fabrics in colors and patterns that I hadn’t seen before, tagged with the name of the weaver on them. Harris tweed is all woven at the homes of specific weavers and then sent over to the big finishing mills and branded with the Harris Tweed orb. To find these obscure unique fabrics woven on small looms was very exciting and with a quick consultation with Jake Mueser via text on what one to buy and how many meters, I decided on an indigo like, chambray blue herringbone— a beautiful unique bit of Harris now in the workshop being built into a yes, ANOTHER tweed blazer!

CHEERS

I am always looking for drink inspiration on the road. Yes, sometimes I go down the dark path away from my standard Negroni or martini. I am often very surprised and like when a bartender looks me straight in the eye and says “will you trust me?” There are few professionals that I DO trust when they ask this—my doctor of course, my tailor and the bartender that is front of me at the moment. I am rarely disappointed. By the time we get to a conversation that involves things like trust, we most likely know a little about each other and our tastes by then. This happened when I was doing “research” for my Negroni book in Rome and discovered the delicious La Reina de Roca at the Hotel Vilón when the bartender asked for my trust and served me a Negroni made with lemon infused gin and chocolate bitters. I trusted and was delighted!

So, now after putting the wraps on the martini book (out on October 26) I am happy to have discovered (through trusting another bartender) a variation on the martini that is definitely the one that got away. Let me set the scene. I am on the Amalfi Coast in Italy. I am staying at the Borgo Santandrea. I am sitting at a bar out of the pages of a Gio Ponti playbook (with three bar stools I may add, which is, for me, the perfect number at a hotel bar. ) I order a gin martini, dry with a twist. This is when the trust comes into play. I notice the bartender confidently grabs a bottle of Lillet. Not a bottle of Martini dry, Noilly Pratt or Dolin vermouth— but Lillet Blanc. I say “you are using Lillet?” and he looks at me and says “do you trust me?” Well, yes I did, and immediately fell in love with this version. It was poured over ice in a mixing glass then dumped out, local Amalfi gin was added to the ice and stirred to chilly perfection. It was all poured in a cold glass ( a beautiful Reidel sour glass) and garnished with a thick peel of Amalfi lemon. Balanced to perfection. It will certainly be a part of my martini arsenal now. Trust me.