White Sangria

Alcohol and I have a complicated relationship. It's as if we were those couples that hook up, fight, break up, and inevitably find each other again. It's dangerous, exhausting, and addictive.

I have on several occasions fallen sick in the most unexpected and least desirable places (on a plane, in the park, on an elevator, in a tram). I’ve learned the hard way how alcohol can do nasty things to me, not to mention turning me into a tomato seconds within my first sip, so I drink with caution.


It's not like I chug gallons of tequila down my throat. What's the fun in that? But just one mojito can cause me to feel dizzy and my vision to go blurry. I suppose it's my Asian genes and the inability to break down alcohol that leads me to always bemoan: Why did I drink that? Whyy?? I'm not saying I like being drunk or have issues that require immediate intervention, nothing like that. I'm just glad that I could drink in the sunny afternoon and still get away with it.

However, I’ve noticed since my Europe vacation, the ill effects of wine/beer/anything with alcohol seems to have trickled away. No more headaches! No more nausea! No more lightheadedness! Golly, did drinking every night in Budapest do me some harm good? Even though I still glowed like a red traffic light, I avoided illness.


Which brings me to sangria. I love the summer for many reasons, but one of them has got to be the restaurant terraces spilling onto the sidewalk. There's nothing better than sipping sangria in the company of good friends. One particularly charming terrace is Boris Bistro in Old Montreal, I’ve always passed by, but I never bothered to step in. Thanks to Milos’s rad research skills, we settled at a table and promptly ordered drinks: a white sangria for me and port for him.

My glass sweat through my placemat, cold water dripped through the cracks of the table. Ice cubes crowded my drink, which was sweet with pineapple juice and mildly bitter with wine. I could sit there and drink all day if I wanted to, it was refreshing and oh-so-summery.


The following day, I visited Terrases Bonsecours also in Old Montreal, nestled on the St. Lawrence River. It has renovated since I last visited, the bistro area has added plush lounge seats so you can relax, let the warm breeze whip through your hair and watch boats float by.

We ordered a small pitcher of the strawberry/lychee sangria. It's got white wine, white rum, Soho lychee liqueur, pineapple juice, and ginger ale. But it lacked that kick, that tingly fizziness that would bring it to the top, regardless, I felt like I had been transported somewhere tropical.

I suppose I should drink up before summer whizzes by. So if you mistaken an Asian for a flashing red lightbulb, don't be alarmed, it's just a normal reaction.