You’re in a movie, one of those “meet-cute” summer trifles starring Meg Ryan, Rachel McAdams, Hugh Grant or the like.
You drive into the country in your sporty red convertible and come upon a grassy hillside by a happy brook with nary a soul in sight.
You open your trunk and pull out your checkered tablecloth and lacquered wicker picnic basket.
And, of course, your little ice chest filled with wine.
The right wine. No monster red cabs, no subtle, pricey white burgundies. This occasion calls for unserious wines. Simple. Fruity. Maybe lightly sweet, even spritzy. Cheap. Often with screw-cap tops, in case you forget your opener.
You have, however, brought real wine glasses. No flimsy, plastic bubbly flutes. No, oh, please, no red Solo cups.
Open with an aperitif – a light, dry pinot grigio. With the bread and cheese, have a nice, rich chardonnay. Brie and chablis may be a bourgeois cliche, but it’s still a fine flavor match.
With the pate, a soft red wine like the Mondavi red meritage. With the cold poached salmon, or cold, roast quail (this is a fantasy, you realize), pinot noir is a wonderful match. For pulled-pork sandwiches, a hearty red zinfandel.
With the dessert of fresh strawberries, a sweet, fizzy pink moscato will finish your meal with romantic flair.
Next, go skinny-dipping in that brook. But wait an hour.
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