The Diamond Effect — Is Vancouver Ripe for a Cocktail Bar Revolution?

Ideas to spark a new 3.0 era.

The Diamond — RIP

A few months ago, I was holed up at work the night of Thanksgiving. My usual Monday evening shift had turned into a quiet affair because most stayed in with their families awash with turkey, potatoes, and gravy. I wasn’t surprised. Nonetheless, one of my fellow hotel colleagues stopped by mid-shift as he and his wife were enjoying a night at the hotel — a perk all new employees get after their first six months of duty. Score!

Being bartenders like myself, the two of them decided to swap shifts while the other stayed upstairs to guard and parent their two young children. My colleague went first and had a simple and genuine experience: two local beers, one from Brassneck and another from Field House, with a side of Amaro Montenegro. It was a humble and perfect combination.

On the other hand, his wife — generally at home with their two children — showcased a more lively tone, one with which I was happy to indulge her. First up, a three rum daiquiri of Appletons, El Dorado 15 and Wray Nephew, a bright and boozy affair not to be missed. Then she sipped one of our house signatures, an anejo tequila, pear, vanilla, and port sipper, only to be finished with some Field House as well. She and I discussed some of our past acquaintances to pass the time and catch up. We talked of her nights holed up at the old Gastown classic Boneta or her debaucherous visits at the Revel Room just down the street.

We knew the same people but came from different eras. Invariably, talk eventually landed on The Diamond — the mountain of stories we had, the names of those who frequented or worked there, and the sadness of its closing. We both longed for those early Diamond days and how it affected that entire area and the city as a whole because it was such an excellent cocktail bar.

Since that conversation, I’ve thought a lot about the overall concept of cocktail culture here in Vancouver. Let me preface: this is definitely not the first time I’ve ruminated upon this topic. Back in 2019, I published a lengthy oral diary about said cocktail scene with interviews from some of the city’s best bar hands, past and present. Considering that it’s been nearly six years since it landed, many great ideas still resonate today from that piece. Sadly, though, The Diamond has been gone for over a year now, and with it, a past ideal. The late aughts and early 2010s ushered in the cocktail scene as we now know it. Before that, getting a solid negroni or old fashioned often left one at the mercy of a select few establishments or that geeky imbibe nerd. If I were to label that time anything (to steal language from Dr. Peter Attia’s book Outlive), I’d say it was our cocktail 1.0 era. We came out of the 90s cosmopolitan era to one where Don Draper and whisky seemed cool.

Since then, we’ve come a long way. Almost every restaurant or bar in the city can make you something delicious. They’d be dumb not to. Jiggers come in various shapes and sizes, bitters abound in every flavour imaginable, and cocktail competitions are either lengthy and lucrative (Diageo World Class), or the best 80s rip-off ever (Baratekid). No matter which way you slice it, whether it be behind the bar at L’Abattoir, Good Thief, Mount Pleasant Vintage, or Meo, solid elixirs are ubiquitous. Welcome to cocktail era 2.0. We’ve arrived and done well.

But it’s 2025, and much has changed. The pandemic wreaked havoc on everything and everyone. Prices went way the hell up; some people drank too much (guilty) while others found something special in not drinking at all (I don’t begrudge this one bit). Bourbon isn’t as cool as it once was, and kinda so isn’t tequila. Espresso martinis are more popular than ever, while eight-ingredient cocktails are definitely not. But lost in the confines of whatever we’ve landed upon today — Suyo’s bar program is an excellent start — is what cocktail era 3.0 could look like.

So how do we get there?

What is missing, and what do we want?

On January 22 of this year, it was announced that North America’s 50 Best Bars would be coming to Vancouver from April 28–30 to reveal their 2025 list. I’d be remiss if I didn’t say that this is a pretty big deal for this city, the local bar scene, and anyone who enjoys cocktail culture. In 2024, two Vancouver establishments landed on the top 50 list: Botanist (#24) and The Keefer Bar (#49). Finding themselves on this list is an achievement unto itself, one both bar teams should be mighty proud of. This event promises to bring Vancouver to the forefront of North America’s cocktail culture. The very best from all over the continent will be in town. This is a chance for all those behind their stick to level up and be proud of what they offer. Botanist and Keefer are not the only venues that could strongly contend for this year’s list. So, with a little more than two months to go before this happens, if wishes could be granted, what is missing from Vancouver’s cocktail scene, and what do we want?

Here are some ideas that could help bring about this new era.

What was The Diamond? — Why was it necessary?

Looking back on what The Diamond meant for Vancouver, and specifically Gastown, it felt like a proper cocktail joint. Very few spaces can claim this distinction in this city. Many of the reasons for this have little to do with operators’ intent and more to do with laws and zoning. More on that in a second.

That being said, The Diamond also had location, size, and timing on its side — not to mention some rad operators who knew what they were doing. Were they the be-all-and-end-all when it came to craft and innovation? No. But they did offer an authentic cocktail experience, one with dim lighting, a fun menu, great music, and that rare space that felt metropolitan. Plus, that chandelier was something else. Losing it has left a gaping hole not just in Gastown (the space is still empty) but this city as a whole. New bars have emerged since its closure, but filling The Diamond void, so to speak, will take a special space. It anchored that part of town; we need something new to fill that gap.

How zoning laws killed our neighborhood bar

In the span of just six days in July of 2023, two unrelated stories popped up relating to bars having issues with their permitting processes. The first dropped on *Scout Magazine on July 6 as Managing Editor Michelle Sproule detailed the maddening process Tara Davies of Chupito Cocteleria was going through in getting her permits. The second came on July 12 from [Daily Hive](https://dailyhive.com/vancouver/vancouver-bar-owner-liquor-license-40k-18-months-later)* as they detailed the painful and expensive ($40k) process Mount Pleasant Vintage underwent in getting their liquor primary license. This quote from Mount Pleasant Vintage owner Cam Bogue speaks volumes about the size of this issue.

“Vancouver’s demonized it by saying you can’t stand at a bar… and we’ve lost this sense of community,” said Bogue. “If you can open a bar in Vancouver, you can open a bar anywhere because the challenges are just monumental… I’m never opening another restaurant in this market ever again.”

Cam is not the first operator whom I’ve heard say they would never open a bar again in this city. This should not be happening, but it continues to be an issue. Later that month, after the Mayor took to this issue, he ordered that a Hospitality Sector Working Group be brought together to fix and coordinate with city staff on resolving such problems. A few things have been completed since then, but under the Projects Underway section, simplify liquor licensing is still one of the issues that hasn’t fully been addressed. It’s been nearly two years, and this is still an issue.

Learning from other cities

To give a bit of outside Vancouver context to this issue, this past summer, I was lucky enough to spend a month in Europe. While in Athens, I was blown away by how seamlessly bars were woven into the fabric of the city. Small, vibrant, and utterly unique, they lined nearly every street corner, bringing people together in a way that felt organic. Austin, Texas, has done something similar, creating distinct neighborhoods with different cocktail cultures. What lessons can Vancouver learn from these cities? We have the talent, but our zoning laws and restrictive liquor licensing have stifled organic growth.

The issue I see in Vancouver is that bars should not be concentrated solely in the Granville Entertainment District, Yaletown, and Chinatown. By structuring our city this way, we miss out on the opportunity to activate other neighborhoods with small, lively bars. Opening a venue like Chupito or Mount Pleasant Vintage should not require a monumental $40,000 investment in licensing alone. But it’s financial barriers like this, along with restrictive zoning which prevent new and young operators from taking a chance on this city. Vancouver just barely passed drinking in most of its beaches and parks (though they conveniently left out Wreck and Third beaches). We’re making progress…I guess.

Glass walls are everywhere, yet there is no bar in the sky. Hello!

In a city known for its highrises and glass, Vancouver is short of bars in the sky. If you don’t count Top of Vancouver, the revolving restaurant located in Harbour Centre, there are zero bars in this city that call the sky home. This is purely a shame.

This list of the best sky bars in Tokyo should provide enough fodder for one to salivate at the potential of Vancouver having at least one dope sky bar. Or there’s this list from Architectural Digest. Whatever your fancy, sipping a negroni or margarita high up while the sun sets over the mountains has the potential to truly change the way we view imbibing in this city. Plus, it would be even better if some bars were small and run more along the lines of a Meo or Good Thief vibe rather than a touristy Top of Vancouver ilk. Put good teams to work in an office space waiting to be occupied (thank you, work from home), and let’s go!

An underground speakeasy — Is that too much to ask for?

I see potential in this realm as achievable. The question remains: How does it stay underground? True speakeasies thrive on mystery. But how do you keep something underground in a city starved for novelty? The key is exclusivity, intimacy, and a real sense of discovery. I see this as more of an attachment to something that already exists — hidden, unexpected, and extremely small.

Bowties and martinis — Nothing more, nothing less

For the longest time, I never understood the lure of the martini, let alone a filthy, dirty one. It seemed weird to want to drink straight vodka or gin. But as my time behind the bar has grown and the number of martinis I make continues to increase, it has become clearly evident that martinis are a draw for most. That being said, I do enjoy them now. A wet (heavy vermouth) gin martini (Tanqueray 10, Botanist, №3) with a lemon twist is a rather divine beverage. With this in mind, a proper bar focused solely on this elixir has the potential to create a new kind of hype for this city. Class it up, push a James Bond vibe, and give the many variations of this drink the platform needed to thrill the 007 one might have within. The hotel I work at would be an obvious choice for such an establishment, but something small and chic in Chinatown would also impart a proper indulgence. The bowties would add a unique appeal for all those wanting that Friday cocktail hour refresher. It’s been a long week; martinis are back, and they’re in. Let’s go!

We can have more than one tiki, can’t we?

Inspired by a culture forged in the early 1930s, tiki lore has found its way into most metropolitan cities of a select size. Drinks based around rum, fruit juices, and that kitschy Polynesian aesthetic drive many to flock to bars like Vancouver’s Shameful Tiki Room in droves. There’s no reason to think we couldn’t have one or two more of these kind of gems littered around the city. Rarely is a vibe so easily achieved than by walking into a tiki-inspired joint. Dark and intimate, the setting is perfectly conducive to late-night shenanigans and fun. Sip down a few Navy Grogs and Zombies, and one will revel in the splendor of citrus and rum. Jack Sparrow always wondered, “Where has all the rum gone?” — With our proximity to the Pacific, it only makes sense to lean into tropical escapism with more than one kitschy, rum-fueled oasis. I sense an opportunity here.

Some of these ideas may seem obvious, ambitious, or just plain impossible. But that’s not the point. The energy and interest are there — just look at the packed crowd for The Keefer Bar’s 15th anniversary.

There’s also that buzz around North America’s 50 Best Bars coming to Vancouver. Over the past decade and a half, we’ve evolved from version 1.0 to 2.0, and now, we’re at a point where we can solidify our place on the global stage. The next leap — our 3.0 evolution — is within reach. The talent is here, the demand is undeniable, and the opportunity is waiting.

So, who will take the leap? Who will create that hidden speakeasy, that neighborhood gem, that rooftop oasis serving the best damn negroni in the city?

Vancouver’s cocktail culture is ready for its 3.0 era. The only question left is: who’s going to pour the first drink?