Labor Day and wine

Labor Day. Odd name in one sense since it is a day when not many people labor, at least not at their paying jobs. But, of course, it is a celebration of people who work to sustain their families and enhance the lives of their friends, neighbors, and our nation. A righteous secular holiday if there ever was one.

Labor Day also is a bittersweet pivot from both the liberating adventures and thermal tribulations of summer to the prayed-for succor and beauty of autumn’s falling temperatures and falling leaves. Soon triple-digit days will be history. Fading, however, will be days of beaches, baseball, and backyard barbecues. Fading, precious times with grandparents, who now wistfully wave poignant goodbyes as their legacies file away summer memories with ma-maw and pa-paw that will play in their heads for the rest of their lives.

Labor Day is the Janus-faced holiday that reminds us for everything there is a season and a time for every purpose under heaven. Also that the grains of sand in our individual hour glasses relentlessly drain. Let us treasure them now. Tomorrow is promised to no one. Now remains pregnant with potential.

In the northern hemisphere, the gathering of grapes is underway. For many, there are sighs of relief. The gauntlet of late Spring frosts and hail, of Summer drought and sun-scorched days, of pests and careful calibrations about which day, which hour to pick has been run. Magic shifts to stainless steel and wooden vessels and labyrinthine decisions and processes. If all goes well, the fruit of the vine and work of human hands will produce bottled poetry. But nothing is yet assured. Promised. Possible. Not assured.

For me, perhaps for you, Labor Day is a time of transitions that seem to come sooner each passing year. Pour wine. Toast triumphs and lifetime memories you created, put regrets in your life’s rearview mirror. This is a weekend to enjoy the backyard barbecue, the swim party or day on the lake, the patio soiree where shorts can still be the de rigueur dress of the day. And if Uncle Dave wants to wear food-stained coveralls and cousin Sally a halter top that was more appropriate for her twenty years ago, move on. Life is too short for you to judge others, or for them to judge you for that matter.

Let’s get back to wine. There is good news. Stores must clear summer inventory. Look for bargains to be enjoyed in the month or six weeks before the season really changes. Look to clear your own inventory. Most white, light summer delights do not suffer winter well. They, like flowers of the field, grace a season and are gone. Pull corks, twist Stelvins. Make room for your big reds. Wine’s synchronicity with the natural flow of nature is one of its exquisite joys.

Labor Day remains a celebration for wines served cool, or chilled on ice, or even poured on ice: lighter stuff so you can sip and sweat and spout classic wisdom such as “hot enough for ya?” one last time this year. Soon enough, you will complain about the chills of winter.

Pinot grigio/pinot gris, moscato, chard, sauv blanc, vinho verde, rosé, even white zinfandel (the Rodney Dangerfield of wines: “it don’t get no respect”) can be laudable Labor Day libations. All can be served in a tumbler on ice; some people even add ginger ale. Hey, it’s hot and no one is looking. Your kids will not be frolicking in the pool or sprinkler much longer—go ahead, enjoy light, crisp, refreshing one more time. Seriously, you can get serious later.

Maybe you fire up the grill for hot dogs or ground red meat in a vegan-horrifying jollification. Even wizened wine writers concede a cooler of beer works in this situation. When belching subsides and the over-stuffed feeling lingers, you will recall why you generally prefer wine.

You have many choices if you pair Labor Day steak and wine: classic cab, malbec, syrah, merlot. All of these are best enjoyed inside with your AC doing hard labor on Labor Day.

If you are hooked on fish or dig grilled veggies, try a chilled, oaky chardonnay to complement the smoky char on the pan-fried fish or seared vegetables. If you want daring adventure, pour grüner veltliner. It is the most planted grape variety in Austria and famously pairs with difficult veggies such as asparagus and artichoke. Hey, the seasons are changing, sunlight days are diminishing, time to shake things up. Time for an end-of-the-season, wanton, spree.

Shrimp on the barbie? That’s sauvignon blanc’s forte. Sauv blanc also will go with late-summer vegetables raw, grilled, or boiled. Actually, sauv blanc goes with just about everything in every season. Indeed, Sauv blanc is a fall-back (yes, the fall reference was intentional) to almost any food pairing save grease-dripping, heart-health endangering, immolated flesh from dead cattle. Even then, if you include a salad in the repast…

For many, the Labor Day weekend is a wistful party time with family and friends. Wine, of course, can be part of this panoply of passage, and what better drink than sangria, a wine punch almost all wine lovers can enjoy, even if they do so only once a year. It cools people down on the likely warm-to-hot day. It can be made in big batches. It is affordable. And, because of diluted alcohol, sipped all day and into the evening without risking being appalled when Uncle Doogie Dog trots out his karaoke system and challenges everyone to writhe on the grass doing the “gator” to a song that was appallingly inappropriate in 1969.

Big production sangria

• Bottle of red wine—(you can use white; red is traditional; sangre is Spanish for “blood”).

• 1 lemon, 1 orange, 1 lime, 1 apple. Cut into thin wedges, do not juice, do not peel.

• 1 cup orange juice

• ½ cup lemonade

• 2 tbsp sugar

• 2-3 shots triple sec, Grand Marnier, or brandy

• 20 oz can diced pineapples (include juice)

• 1 cup raspberries or strawberries (fresh, thawed, or frozen, doesn’t matter)

• 4 cups chilled ginger ale

Pour wine in pitcher. Add fruits, sugar, orange juice, lemonade, triple sec/Grand Marnier/brandy. Chill overnight—important, quality sangria marinates 24 hours.

Add ginger ale and whole berries before serving straight or on ice. Ladle so people can enjoy fruit.

Last minute sangria

• Bottle of rosé

• 1 cup orange juice

• 2 sliced peaches or nectarines (peeled)

• 2 sliced oranges (peeled)

• half cantaloupe, cut into chunks

Combine in pitcher filled with ice. Allow to sit for 15 minutes before serving.

Last second bubbly sangria

• Bottle of sparkling wine

• 2 sliced peaches or nectarines (peeled)

• half cantaloupe, cut into chunks

• half-cup of honey

Combine in pitcher, stir to dissolve honey. Add ice.

Wine time humor: Just to reassure everyone, it is perfectly okay to drink white wine after Labor Day. White pants and shoes? We can debate that, if you wish.