What to Pour When You Miss Who You Were

There are nights when your name doesn’t fit. When your laugh feels borrowed. When your reflection is a rumor, not a memory.

And on those nights, wine isn’t a drink. It’s a séance.

You light the candle. Pull the cork. Not to celebrate, but to summon. A version of you that once danced barefoot in kitchens. Who knew how to take up space. Who laughed too loud and didn’t say sorry for it.

For that version, pour something with soul but easy to find. A dry rosé from Provence. Whisper-pink and a little salty. Or a lightly chilled Gamay — like a Beaujolais-Villages — playful, bright, unpretentious. Wines that don’t try too hard. Like you, before the world asked you to quiet down.

Sip slowly. Let it remind you of your edges. Let it stain your tongue and loosen the grip time has on your shoulders.

Because wine doesn’t just age. It remembers.

And maybe tonight, so do you.