On the Daily: Should We Stop for Wine?
A big Kona low blew in to Maui on Friday with sixty mile an hour winds and sheets of stinging, sideways rain, inundating the whole island. J. and I took advantage of a brief lull in the downpour and dropped, soggy and wet, into Pink’s Nails for mani-pedis, making the most of a perfect, rare and mellow mother–daughter moment and breaking up the monotony of a forced day indoors. M., always the gentleman, and probably soothing his own stay-at-home restlessness, volunteered to drop us off and pick us up.
By the time we walked out of the Cannery Mall about an hour later, the rain and wind had become even stronger and more dangerous. As we approached the Bypass, the road was barely visible, even with the windshield wipers fighting against the rain. Just as we were about to make the last turn onto our road, we noticed police lights flashing and a long line of traffic coming down the Bypass on our left. And on our right, directly in the path of our turn, there was a large, wide and deep puddle blocking our passage.
“Oh my God! It’s actually flooding!” J. laughed nervously from the back seat.
As if on cue, M. began to quietly maneuver his way into the turn — and the deep water — when midway through the puddle he mused, almost casually, “Should we stop and get some wine?”
I flashed back to us escaping the Lahaina fires on this very same road, when M. wondered out loud if we should stop at the restaurant on Front Street to pick up water. This time, in the middle of a potential flood, he was asking for wine.
“Should we get wine?” I asked incredulously. “We should get home before this gets worse.”
I laughed lightly for good measure, trying to add some levity for the kid’s sake.
But M. took my chuckle as affirmation and asked again, “I take you home and then I’ll go back and pick it up?”
More resolute this time, he’d made up his mind. Even in the middle of a storm. Maybe even because of it.
I knew he was thinking about how to elevate the quality of our meal and soften the beginning of what was already shaping up to be a stressful night. I didn’t blame him. I understood the impulse. I appreciated it. But I was also rooted in a very real, visceral drive to get us all home safely.
I tried to reassure him.
“We have enough wine. I only need a glass tonight. We have a little Barolo and a little Valpolicella. We’ll be fine.”
So we get up the hill and safely into our house. As we peel off wet jackets and shoes, M. perseveres and innocently mumbles, “I was going to pick up a bottle of Tignanello.”
Another flashback. The night of the fire. We are hunkered down in our friend’s house in Kāʻanapali. Stoic, shaken, quietly distraught. Our host disappears into the kitchen and returns with a magnum of Tignanello — the iconic Super-Tuscan from the Antinori family estate, one of the wines that changed modern Italian winemaking when it first appeared in the 1970s. Tignanello is powerful but polished: mostly Sangiovese with small additions of Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc, aged in oak, structured but generous. A wine built for long dinners and meaningful occasions.
That night it may as well have been medicine. It soothed us and comforted us and fed us emotionally in a way that felt appropriate for the somber occasion. A kind of marking of an extraordinary day. It is one of the only good memories I have of that night: our friend’s generosity, the quiet clink of glasses, the wine’s deep, steady warmth reminding us that even the worst circumstances can sometimes be softened by the right bottle.
So I smiled pointedly and whispered to my husband, “Oh. Then please. By all means.”
Because now I was in full agreement. I finally understood where he was going with all this talk about wine in the middle of a washout. And he smiled in return. Finally, I was in on the plan.
Always the hero, he proudly returned only a little while later with a bottle of Tignanello, having avoided the flooded stretch of road altogether. Then, we shared a beautifully prepared four-course meal, perfectly paired with the Super-Tuscan:
Tagliatelle Bolognese
Rack of Lamb
Mixed Green Salad
Brownies à la Mode
Making the best of a challenging moment. Settling comfortably and calmly into a not very restful night of howling winds and nonstop rain, feeling fortified.
Maybe we are strange, or different. But in the middle of a storm, a good meal matters even more. And in our family, someone is always thinking about the next menu — or the next bottle of wine — that will meet the moment.
