Are you Spanish or an Alcoholic

I love wine. I love funny ecards about wine. I love the sense of comfort I feel driving through wine country with a backdrop of rolling, manicured vineyards sponsored by Mother Earth (and the back-breaking work of those employed to tend them). I was fortunate enough to spend a year in La Rioja, Spain, better known as the country's wine region, at a pivotal point in my early thirties. A girlfriend and I left our jobs, cars, apartments, shitty relationships, and basically Eat, Pray, Loved (post-book, pre-movie) ourselves through one of the richest experiences of my life.

Living in the wine region of any European country will eventually leave you unphased by five year olds sipping from their father's wine cup on crisp winter evenings to stay warm, or by watching old men having a 'copa' with their breakfast omelettes at the café. I didn't meet or hear of anyone who 'didn't drink' a' la AA. Wine was as much a part of the culture where I was living as was the food, music, dialect. And so, it also became customary to finish up an evening of  pinxchos or dinner, accompanied by what turned out to be a few glasses of wine per person. Like about four. Four glasses in a bottle. So there's that math. And that became my new Spanish normal. Not every night.  But definitely the fun ones. 

Looking back on my time there, now about six years out from the experience, I can say I imported an appreciation for wine. But it's what it represents. The food, the culinary experience, the merriment, the social aspects. I drink about a glass of wine a day. And when I have two or more it's usually on the weekend. My American girl still checks in with my inner Spaniard, and my inner Spaniard always says, "Chin Chin."