Red, Red, Wine.
It has been a very, very cold day today. OK, so I know some people who read this live in cities where it snows in winter, and while it doesn't snow here in Melbourne, it's cold enough for me. Tonight I am very tired after a long day at work. I came home and made my usual Tuesday night Risotto, followed by a treat of a slice of chocolate cake on the couch in front of the toasty warm gas heater.
Sitting here under a blanket, in my sweats, with the heater & TV on reminds me of drinking red wine. While I certainly don't want to drink, nor am I craving it, I just started reminiscing about my old drinking philosophy (or justifications).
I would be a white wine drinker between September and April before I would switch to red wine for the colder months. Of course I would announce this fact every change of 'wine' season and mock those who didn't follow the same rule. I used to like white wine because I could have it so cold that I could drink really cheap cask wine and not really taste it, which meant I would be able to buy more as it cost less. However, I also loved red wine because it felt warm going down and classier because I would only drink it out of a bottle (yeah, I know, so classy!). I loved cooking a roast in the winter because I could drink loads of red wine in the kitchen (before), at the table (during), and with dessert (after). I also loved cooking my winter pumpkin soup because I could drink red wine in the kitchen (before)...hang on, I think I'm repeating myself.
Then there was beer. I used to say that you could intravenously hook me up to beer and I would be happy for life. I loved beer. However, beer never really got me drunk enough and only made me bloated. Beer was served best the morning after on a hangover.
I never saw much point in cocktails because they were too expensive and took two seconds to drink. Plus I always associated them with 'lightweight' drinkers. You know, those people who could hold one glass of alcohol in their hand comforatably for more than five minutes without reaching for another.
Champagne was to celebrate or to drink if I was out with girlfriends or going out to party. Except when the party was at home. I loved a good party for one with Champagne.
Spirits were a treat and I loved a gin and tonic. I abhorred scotch and whiskey, although in the end, if it was there, I would drink it.
I guess that's my point. I used to create all these 'rules' and 'seasons' and 'occasions' and 'reasons' for drinking. But if you cut through all the bullshit, I just drank anything that would get me drunk. It didn't matter what I would say, my primary goal every time was oblivion.
I don't miss it. Chocolate cake is better.
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