Friday nights have quietly become my favorite ritual.
It’s the moment when the week’s chaos finally exhales — the dishes are (mostly) done, the baby is calm (hopefully), and my brain stops sprinting through a list of things I’ll never finish.
By Friday, I don’t want another task.
I want a reward — something small, sensory, that reminds me I’m still a woman, not just a system keeping everyone alive.
That’s when I open a bottle of wine.
I don’t choose by rulebook or rating. I choose by mood.
If I feel introspective, I’ll reach for something classic. If the day was joyful, I want something fun, maybe even a little loud. If it’s cold (and that’s rare in Florida), I’ll instinctively go for red. Sometimes I pick by label — whichever bottle looks like it knows how to have a good time.
The Calm One: Bordeaux Night
A couple Fridays ago, I wanted comfort. I was tired in that deep, invisible way that comes from taking care of everything and everyone. So I picked a wine that felt like home: Château Le Coin 2023 Bordeaux.
Bordeaux wines (from southwest France) are like quiet friends who always show up. They’re usually blends — mostly Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon — which means they’re smooth but structured, never too much of anything.
I poured my first glass before my husband even got home. The kitchen smelled like dinner, the dishwasher was humming, and for once, I didn’t feel guilty about opening it just for me.
At first sip, it was exactly what I expected: classic, dry, serious. The kind of wine that sits upright. But something was missing — my mouth wanted fat, something to soften those tannins. I could literally feel it.
So I went on a spontaneous fridge scavenger hunt, still holding the glass. After a quick dig behind leftovers and juice boxes, I found a Bella Vitano Balsamic cheese. Jackpot.
The moment I took a bite, the wine transformed.
Suddenly it was rounder, sweeter, smoother — almost like it exhaled with me.
The dark plum and cassis notes turned into velvet. The balance between the cheese’s richness and the wine’s dryness was pure alchemy.
That’s the thing about wine — it’s alive. It shifts with food, temperature, and mood. I’d let it chill slightly in the fridge later, and that made it even more elegant. What started as a “normal red” turned into a moment.
The Playful One: Freakshow Friday
Fast forward a week. Same day, very different energy.
I was exhausted — baby on the bouncer, my daughter watching Finding Nemo, the house in full post-week chaos. But this time, I didn’t want calm. I wanted joy.
So I picked a bottle purely for its label — a circus of color and confidence: Freakshow Cabernet Sauvignon 2021, from Michael David Winery in Lodi, California.
Lodi is sunshine country — all warmth and ripeness. Their wines are bold and fruit-forward, less “French library,” more “California backyard BBQ.”
I’d put the bottle in the fridge earlier because, well, I like my reds chilled (a Florida-girl habit that every sommelier would secretly approve of).
At first, it didn’t smell like much — probably too cold. But after a few minutes, it opened up beautifully: ripe red fruit, a hint of dried berries, maybe even something close to strawberry jam. It felt happy.
It didn’t demand food the way the Bordeaux did, but later that night we air-fried some top sirloin, and they clicked instantly — like the wine was waiting for the salt and sizzle.
It’s the kind of red that’s easy to drink, easy to love.
A “sip while you flip the steak” kind of wine.
The Day After
Since moving to Florida, I’ve developed a new ritual: leftover-wine cocktails.
The next day, I turn whatever’s left in the bottle into something light, sparkly, and fun — my daytime version of luxury.
Usually, I’ll pour some of the leftover into a glass, add a splash of Cointreau, a squeeze of lime, a drizzle of pomegranate syrup, and top it with sparkling water.
It’s part spritz, part sangria, part “I’m a mom, but I still experiment.”
I call it my Improv Spritz.
It’s chilled, jewel-toned, low-alcohol, and tastes like freedom at noon.
What These Two Fridays Taught Me
Wine doesn’t just taste different — it feels different, depending on what you need.
That’s why I never chase “the perfect bottle.” I chase the feeling I want to have.
- Bordeaux is for grounding — when I want to slow down and feel sophisticated again.
- California Cabernet is for lifting — when I want to feel light, playful, alive.
- And the next day’s wine spritz is for creativity — a reminder that pleasure can always be reinvented.
Drinking wine has become one of my favorite sensorial rituals — part of my soft power mom era.
It’s not about indulgence; it’s about intention.
The way I choose, pour, taste, and pair — it’s how I remind myself that I can curate joy even in the middle of the mess.
Because soft power isn’t loud.
It’s a woman quietly opening a bottle on a Friday night, choosing herself first.
The Curator Mom 
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