The other day, when I made French Onion Soup, I was downstairs
in the belly of the beast rummaging around (as I often do), looking for a
bottle of port to add to the soup. While I was down there, I came across my
husband’s wine rack, with all of his special bottles of wine on it. Some of
them dated back to 1995, the year that we were married. He would buy these
special (read: expensive) bottles of wine that he’d planned to uncork on a
“special occasion.” He’s gone now, and apparently no occasion ever seemed quite
special enough for him to drink this wine. I looked at those bottles, grabbed a
bottle of French Bordeaux from 2007, and carried it upstairs. I relaxed that
evening with a British mystery, some crackers and tomato basil cheese, and a
glass of this wine. I don’t think my husband ever quite realized that just
waking up in the morning is a special occasion.
Celebrate every day, people. Drink the wine!
Celebrate every day, people. Drink the wine!
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