Lapping up the Stellar McKellar

Lapping up the Stellar McKellar

We are slightly weary of signature cocktails. Sure, we sidled up to the Skyy vodka bar at the Liberty Grand at last night’s Passchendaele gala party for a sip of the Stellar McKellar like everyone else. We read the description, and we thought, Why not—let’s see how the Blindness star-writer would taste if he were booze (we were betting on devilish and delicious). We were handed a humourless vodka martini. Don McKellar, you taste like dry olives.

But you do get the job done. When we escaped around 1 a.m. to make tracks to the Drake, we passed a dozen party girls clad in ass-hugging jersey-knit frocks knocking back Stellar McKellars and shimmying on the dance floor.—Katy P

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