Well, as everyone knows, the big news in Vancouver this summer involves the exponential growth of retail medical marijuana “dispensaries.”
There are already almost 100 of them in Vancouver and more pot shops are sprouting up in the suburbs and in Victoria. It’s a breeze to get your marijuana from one of these outlets (called “dispensaries” to the outrage of the pharmacists). You either meet personally with an in-house or nearby naturopath for something akin to a prescription and if the in-house or nearby naturopath isn’t handy (“
Dave’s not here, man.”), the customer can do a Skype interview with the naturopath, who will prescribe marijuana for things like stress, anxiety, or virtually nothing at all.
There’s no way to legally sell or use marijuana in Canada other than through the Marijuana for Medical Purposes Regulations, which creates an exemption from ss. 4 and 5 of the Controlled Drugs and Substances Act in circumstances where a medical doctor has prescribed marijuana to a patient, that patient has registered under the MMPR, and the prescription is delivered by mail to the patient by a licensed producer, (of which there are only 18 in Canada).
Owing to the recent
R. v. Smith case, it would appear that medical marijuana obtained under the MMPR isn’t just limited to marijuana that you can smoke. Medical marijuana must be available to the MMPR as a liquid or food additive, which makes total sense if you require marijuana for health reasons but you don’t want to inhale smoke into your lungs.
The key point in all of this is that there shouldn’t be a retailer at all. The law says marijuana, in whatever form, can only be distributed under the MMPR. The growth in retail marijuana outlets has been exponential over the past 12 months, so by the time you read this, there could be thousands of them all over Metro Vancouver, outnumbering McDonald’s, Starbucks, and Tim Hortons combined! And yes, that was an exaggeration for dramatic effect.
Despite the fact I support decriminalization, the law is the law and all the retail marijuana dispensaries in British Columbia are illegal. The growth of retail marijuana outlets is simply an exercise in spin doctoring and civil disobedience by marijuana entrepreneurs, who are pushing the envelope at every opportunity on the basis that marijuana is medicine, and you can’t deny medicine to someone who needs it.
The whole brouhaha is a fascinating exercise in law and politics.
Federal Health Minister Rona Ambrose is seemingly outraged by any use of marijuana by anyone — medicinal or otherwise. And if you’ve seen the crop of Tory attack ads against Trudeau-the-Younger for proposing decriminalization, you’ll know they feel marijuana is a wedge issue in Canada.
The Supreme Court of Canada has taken a rational, common sense, and measured approach to the issue, which, of course, has outraged the Tories because they seem to have a problem with rational, common sense, and measured approaches to legal issues.
Add to that the City of Vancouver wanting to regulate the retail pot shops and charge a $30,000 licensing fee (irrespective of the obvious opinions they’ve received that equate the licensing fee to proceeds of crime and conspiracy to traffic in drugs). God knows why the police haven’t intervened yet.
So, that’s what’s happening this summer in Vancouver.
Which brings me to the point of the article. Despite my views on marijuana decriminalization and how entertained I am about the legal and political shenanigans going on, I don’t imbibe. I don’t like inhaling things into my lungs except air. I do imbibe, from time-to-time, in intoxicating beverages, which are legal.
So let’s talk about booze.
As for beer, something Mexican, like Victoria or Pacifico. But that’s too easy.
As for whiskey, years ago, my dentist introduced me to a single malt called Talisker. It was and still is a lovely scotch. I recommend it to all scotch drinkers, but I would urge them to convert to Irish whiskey, and in particular, Black Bush. To my palate, it’s smoother and sweeter than scotch. Drop an ice cube in your glass of Black Bush for 60 seconds, then pull it out and drink it neat; preferably, in the fall or winter.
Earlier in the year, my wife and I ate at Alinea in Chicago for perhaps the best meal we’ve ever had. The 20 courses of smallish molecular dishes defy description, but in between course 18 and 19, I was introduced to an Amaro, which is a bitter Italian herbal liqueur that knocked my socks off. It’s made with herbs, roots, flowers, bark, citrus peels, and probably something I’ve forgotten. It’s marvelous. Also good in the fall and winter.
Wine is always an issue in my family. My wife likes beefy cabs like J. Lohr. But as this is my column and not hers, I will disclose that I am a pinot noir fan, and many of the best pinots come from Marlborough, New Zealand, (among them, one of my faves, Alan Scott). B.C. makes some excellent pinots, so do check out Blue Mountain, CedarCreek, Mission Hill, Quails Gate, and Cassini.
As for whites, I hate Chardonnay with a passion. The Aussies ruin it with way too much oak and everybody else ruins it by simply making it. It is truly a wine for laying down and avoiding. Every bottle has a message on it, and that message is: beware.
I am a sauvignon blanc snob. Sauvignon blanc is a wine for hot afternoons on the deck, by the pool, on the boat, at the cottage, in the garden, on the porch, in the lounge, or on the patio. It’s a wine that goes well with fish, meat, chicken, vegetables, appetizers, tacos, nachos, chicken wings, muscles, prawns, carpaccio . . . and virtually anything else (except chocolate and breakfast).
But, again, I have to say the New Zealanders make the best sauvignon blancs in the world. I recommend Alan Scott (again), Oyster Bay, Stoneleigh, Cloudy Bay, Dog Point, Whitehaven, and Kim Crawford — only if the others aren’t on the list. As for B.C. sauvignon blancs? Blue Mountain, of course, but I’m only allowed so many words in this article.
However, the best drink poolside, or on any deck, cottage, or garden on a hot sunny day (or night) is not wine. It’s Pimm’s.
Yes, Pimm’s No. 1 cup! The gin-based concoction your parents or grandparents used to drink in the 1960s while inexplicably listing to Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass.
Mix it with a lot of ice, together with ginger ale or lemonade, orange and strawberries, and don’t forget a sprig of mint and a cucumber slice. It’s always classy when you pour it from a watering can, whilst listening to the Last Night of The Proms, Land of Hope and Glory, the BBC World Service (extra points for listing to a live cricket game), or virtually anything from
Monty Python Sings.
Nothing compares with Pimm’s o’clock. It’s so much better than B.C. Bud. It won’t ruin your lungs, it’s legal, and you don’t need to get a sham prescription for it on Skype.
