The Anniversary Fight, the Golf Shirt, and the Beaujolais That Saved It All
Mad, Bad, and Dangerous: The Deceptive Power of Beaujolais
This year, Mr. Wine & Drama and I celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary. Year four of marriage, round two for both of us—cue applause and maybe a raised eyebrow.
Unlike last year’s glamorous jaunt through London and Paris, this anniversary was decidedly low key: a lazy weekend at the lake, a round of golf, and then (because middle age is real) a pre-dinner nap.
The Outfit Glow-Up (and the Fail)
Now, here’s where it gets funny: I was thrilled because I got back into an outfit I hadn’t worn in about seven years (thank you, walking pad under my desk—MVP status). I felt fabulous.
Meanwhile, Mr. Wine & Drama decided to “dress up” in a brand-new button-down shirt. This is a man whose uniform is basically Adidas joggers + tees, or polos + khakis if he’s at the office. Let’s just say… he did not try it on before the big night.
Cut to: him, attempting to squeeze into a shirt that barely buttoned. It looked ridiculous. And because we weren’t at home. This outfit was it. There was no other option for him to change.
He gave up and wore the golf shirt from earlier in the day. I. was. furious.
“I got dressed up, and you show up looking like you just mowed the lawn?!”
We bickered all the way to dinner.
Once seated, he smugly pointed out that half the men in the restaurant looked just like him.
Marriage, ladies and gentlemen.
Wardrobe drama aside, dinner was lovely, and I enjoyed a glass of Bordeaux.
But the true star of our anniversary didn’t arrive until later that evening: a bottle of Domaine Dupeuble’s Beaujolais, imported by the legendary Kermit Lynch.
Domaine Dupeuble: Beaujolais with History and Heart
Beaujolais is deceptive. At first sip it feels playful—bright cherries and plums, served chilled, refreshing enough to drink like water. But then it deepens.
This particular bottle carried delicate notes of stone, violet, and just the faintest hint of licorice, giving it a quiet structure.
It’s the kind of wine that slips into your evening and takes over, glass after glass, without ever feeling heavy.
Domaine Dupeuble has been making wine in southern Beaujolais since the 16th century. Their vines grow in Le Breuil, northwest of Lyon, where UNESCO recently recognized the dramatic granite- and limestone-rich landscape as a Geopark. That unique terroir gives the Gamay grape Beaujolais its elegance and vibrancy—aromas of réglisse, violets, and sheer drinkability.
Pair it with grilled sausages, pizza, or late-summer tomato salads, and it shines. Pair it with a quiet anniversary night at home, and it feels like bottled friendship.
Marriage, Like Beaujolais, Is Deceptively Complex
And here’s the thing: marriage is a lot like Beaujolais. Lighthearted at first, but surprisingly deep once you pay attention.
Sometimes it’s playful, sometimes it’s structured, and sometimes it makes you fight about shirts that don’t fit. But in the end, it balances out—mad, bad, dangerous, and absolutely worth it.
