Inside the kitchen of Nick Kennedy, the co-owner of Civil Liberties and Civil Works

Over the past decade, Nick Kennedy has opened an impressive number of successful bars: Civil Liberties, Electric Bill, Vit Béo and, most recently, Civil Works, an art deco mezzanine bar in the Waterworks building. But, at his original spot, Civil Liberties, he steadfastly holds on to the title of senior executive barback. He opened the place when he was just 24 years old, boldly marking its presence on Bloor Street West with only a glistening chrome pineapple. But it’s paid off: in the past ten years, Civil Liberties has won best bar in Canada three times, and its seasonal Christmas pop-up, Miracle, has raised a quarter of a million dollars for Nellie’s Shelter.

Related: What’s on the menu at Civil Works, a gorgeous new cocktail bar inside Waterworks Food Hall

When he’s not tending to his many establishments, Kennedy spends time in his apartment, the main floor of a west-end semi-detached that he shares with his partner, Lorie Leung. They like to host, and when they do, they go big. “We call it ambitious supper club,” says Kennedy. “We’ll cook food that’s well outside of our skill level, like a four-day cassoulet or a Japanese kaiseki meal with ten courses. Then we write out the menu and really play restaurant.”

Since the opening of Civil Works, however, there hasn’t been much time for elaborate cooking projects. Kennedy’s typical workweek goes far beyond the standard 40 hours, though he’s a self-proclaimed “Olympic sleeper” and manages to somehow carve out seven hours a night. What’s inside his fridge is a little more telling. “We’re living on takeout right now,” he says. “I haven’t cooked once in the last three weeks.”

The top shelf is stocked with electrolyte drinks, Electric Bill’s Victorian bitter beer, Vit Béo’s Vietnamese coffee and the ingredients for what Kennedy calls “bro-gurt”—yogurt mixed with protein powder. “Once or twice a week I’ll have some bro-gurt and think, I’m okay, I’m living healthy and my life is definitely not falling apart around me,” he says. On the second shelf, there are banh mi sandwiches from Vit Béo and roti from Jerk King.

Kennedy is a fan of Pizzeria Badiali. His go-to pie, pictured here, is the capicollo and pineapple. He also has a small museum of assorted pickles, including his mom’s homemade zucchini relish and PAT kimchi. To the right, there are IPAs and lagers from Burdock Brewery, alcohol-free yuzu beers from the UK’s Drop Bear and a mixed drink from Nova Scotia’s Barkeep Cocktails.

The vegetable crisper moonlights as a cheese drawer, holding an assortment of hard and soft cheeses from Cheese Boutique, a Mexican crema, and whole wheat tortillas from Farm Boy.

The fridge door is mostly dedicated to hot sauce and chili oil, including Heartbeat’s Scorpion sauce, Mexican ghost pepper hot sauce, Vit Béo’s chili oil, Frank’s and sriracha. The spicy bottles are flanked by Civil Pours’ ready-to-drink margarita and espresso martini. “I spent a year and a half of my life figuring out how to preserve margaritas,” says Kennedy. “Now I don’t need to spend forever juicing limes.”

Kennedy’s freezer is packed with ice cream from Ruru Baked and quick-meal ingredients like panko shrimp and dumplings. There’s also some quail meat that he hunted last year. “I’m not a big hunter, but I think if you want to eat meat you should be involved in the process,” he says.

Here’s a look at the pantry, which holds staples like tahini and black vinegar. Kennedy generally buys these kinds of items from specialty grocers Adonis and T&T.

Kennedy labels his spice jars to keep things organized.

There are always 100 per cent beef tallow and kalamata olive oil near the stove, for frying and searing purposes. They live beside an impressive assortment of tongs.

Kennedy keeps two styles of coffee on hand, which he swaps out depending on his mood. “If I’m in need of comfort, it’s Wallace Espresso,” he says. “It’s a great dark-roast coffee with toffee and chocolate notes that you can add milk to. It’s the sort of thing I’d drink if I had a hangover. But, if I have to think and work, I drink Subtxt coffee. It’s very acidic and tastes like pineapple skins.”

This is Kennedy’s bar cart, where he keeps his collection of spirits, Cynar-branded tasting cups and crystal wine glasses. Note the portrait of Anthony Bourdain.

Kennedy pointedly does not make cocktails at home—at least not for himself—but he does have a few bottles of rare and interesting spirits. The gem of the cart is Poitín, an authentic Irish moonshine that Kennedy brought back from a trip to the Burren. “It’s not made of potatoes,” he says. “Everyone thinks that the Irish only have potatoes, but it’s 100 per cent corn. It’s close in profile to American bourbon.” On the right is a water bottle full of a unique mezcal. “Mezcal has an incredible ancestral production method that bartenders are obsessed with. The Civil Liberties team went to Oaxaca, and our guide brought us out to the home of Gregorio Martinez Garcia, a mezcal maestro. He gave us these unlabelled jugs,” says Kennedy.

On his precious days off, Kennedy clears his mind by wading into a river and fishing with friends. “My father was a big fisherman, but as a kid I hated it,” he says. “Then I got into fly fishing. It’s become an important outlet for me.”