The more Zoom meetings we have, where wine experts are chiming in from much colder climes all over the country, the more I realize how spoiled I am when I allege that it’s wintertime here. I know that it’s been nearly 70 degrees most days, and I know that that means we have it pretty good around here. But I also know that, as Tucsonans, we’re still entitled to feel like it’s wintertime at some point, and this may as well be it. So, yeah: there’s nothing wrong with eating a lobster bread pudding, or a roasted apple, or indulging in one of Aly’s new winter cocktails.
It’s okay to hole up in the house, and to pull the blankets over our heads, and to console ourselves with a nibble
or to travel vicariously through wine.
It’s also okay not to travel so much at all, awaiting a welcome delivery, whether you reside in the east or the west,
the north or northwest,
or the south or southeast.
Whatever the case, I, for one, am ready for this winter of our discontent, be it Covid, be it brutalized small business, or be it political schism, to be made glorious summer. Come on, summer. We’re ready.