five years ago: an open letter to the sommelier, with a side of Chablis.

Five years ago, we sat on a picnic table, under a flowing white tent and twinkle lights. We nibbled on mozzarella with basil and tomato, hand crafted pizza, and homemade lasagna, while grabbing Shiner from a blue ice chest. I wore a green dress.

Five years ago, we clinked our glasses as we toasted our friends and family. We recalled old memories and shared old stories of our upbringing. Under the starry sky, you kissed me on the cheek, and said you would love me forever.


Five years ago, the sun shone bright at dawn, as I walked outside to greet the day. The mourning doves welcomed me as I strolled into a small hill country village coffee shop. It was as if time was just beginning. I started to count the seconds of every hour.

Five years ago, I saw you nervously put your arm behind your back. The light engulfed the room as I walked to your side. You took my hand, and then you smiled. I wore a cream dress.


Five years ago, we vowed to live life together, to grow old, be kind, and open to trying new things. We were put to the test right away, as our livelihood was challenged in so many ways.

Five years ago, we continued to support each other, love each other, and cherish each other, good and bad. We looked on as our former lives fell apart, and vowed to rebuild it even better.

Five years later, we have.

I would do it again in a heartbeat.

I love you more than you will ever know.


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*wine disclosure*

Five years ago, I would never drink Chardonnay. But because of the sommelier, even my taste in wine has changed. As I sip on a 2009 Maison Verget Chablis, the deep yellow mineral color shines from the glass, inviting me to smell the light citrus and taste the slight salinity of stone tones . A very appropriate wine for the spring, as newly minted grass comes forth from the earth. (For those who don’t know, a French Chablis is almost always 100% Chardonnay.) Perfect with local Gulf oysters and simple shrimp. Find it on Amazon for $22.




watermelon salad, sideways, and a suprising chardonnay

It’s like a Friday night.   Now that I am back to a regular schedule, I can rely on my inner instincts during the week.  A glass of 2008 Bouchaine Chardonnay sits on the ‘60s inspired side table next to my chair, Rheagan is sleeping, and I am watching yet another high quality film.  I don’t know why I have been so obsessed with Northern California lately.  Bottleshock last week, and then a taste of Oz & James this past weekend.  Now I am watching Sideways.  I love Paul Giamatti, and I have so much more appreciation for the movie now that I know a little more about wine.  I haven’t watched it in forever, and it has dawned on me that I bought it out of trendiness, long before I met my sommelier.  Since then, I have been rightfully schooled in the winemaking process, and in the taste.

I was nervous to try the Bouchaine.  Every time I remember drinking chardonnay, it has been laden with oaks, heavy, or buttery.  I remember when I used to drink Clos Du Bois and think I was something special; although it went well with lobster, I tired of the taste.  I have avoided all chardonnay since.  I like the Bouichane, though.  It’s light and acidic.  With hints of lemon and apple, it blended well with my zesty arugula.  I do have to give the sommelier credit.  He knows I hate chardonnay, yet he brought home a clear, honey colored vintage that makes me change my mind.  I will now add this particular wine to my list of sauvignon blancs, chenin blancs, voigners, and rieslings.

Dinner was a success.  I chopped up some ripe watermelon, halved cherry tomatoes, and paired them with arugula, baby spring greens, and goat cheese.  A steak rounded out my meal.  A gleaming success, I must say. I can’t remember the last time I had steak, maybe a month.  Here in Texas, in the midst of grilling season, that time period is unthinkable. However, the wine complemented the greens and watermelon perfectly, and I just happened to stumble upon it.  Goes to show, you should always rely on your instincts.