I had a glass of wine last night. Cabernet, deep and rich and smooth and luscious. No hives!

If you offered me a million dollars I couldn’t explain why my allergy seems to be abating, but I’ve never given up hope that it would. So I’ve been trying, here and there, to reintroduce wine to my life. About a month ago I had a red wine spritzer at a friend’s house. She’d made a lovely dinner, and the thought of not being able to enjoy a little vino with the meal threatened to put a damper on my evening. When she suggested the spritzer, it seemed worth a shot. It wasn’t the most delicious beverage I’ve ever had, but I was thrilled to make it through the evening without breaking out in angry, itchy splotches. A few weeks later, I tried some sangria made with white wine, and escaped without incident again. Last night was my first time in nearly two years with a full glass of full-force good stuff. Seriously good stuff–it was a $14 glass. That’s as much as I often paid for a bottle! I figured if I was going to get hives, I might as well get them off something worth the pain.

It’s funny, how relieved I am to be able to sip a glass of wine again. It’s as if I’ve rediscovered an old friend, one who comforted me when I was down, cheered me in good times, and made many a meal that much more memorable. Now, lest you think that I put too much import on my relationship with wine, I must point out that I’m talking about a glass with a meal, not a bottle drunk alone. That’s all I’m asking for, just one thin, elegant, crystal glass of something fine and red. Thank you very much.