A Lazy Summer Sangria


Summer is fundamentally the laziest of all seasons. Anyone who's ever had the privilege of sharing real estate with me will know that I live to spend a majority of the season lying on the ceramic kitchen floors firstly of my childhood home, and more recently the hardwood floors you typically find in old Southern Victorian houses.

I wonder if childhood had it right? What if we all just agreed to take three months off a year, and to hell with the drama? We just promise to be cool, maybe lay off our weapons, forget about passing bills that could ruin lives, run wild through the neighborhood until dinnertime and make our leisurely way down the assigned summer reading list? No? Really? You sure? Well, I gave it a shot.

Sangria, like that cute little call for peace of mine up there, is wonderfully effortless in that it requires almost literally no effort. Unlike the current headache that is today's political climate, when it comes to Sangria no effort is actually a good thing. Not much is known of its history, making it all the more sexy and mysterious, and although it has popular iterations all over, it's typically categorized as a Spanish drink. I personally find this hilarious because although said to be rooted in the Spanish word for blood, the term 'sangria' also translates to the tab at the beginning of a new paragraph in a paper or essay. Obscure academia FTW.


Anyways, back to effortlessness. Sangria is by no means an exact science, but, like that Math textbook you kept hidden in your wardrobe as a child to glance at whenever you felt like your brain was turning to mush (No? That was just me?), it's got a few equations.

The basic addition: One Wine + Three Fruits + One Citrus =💃🏻🍹💃🏻🍹💃🏻


Your wine choice typically determines your fruits, and the citrus is just a splash to enhance flavor. Since Rosé is the official wine of summer, and I'm a millennial who'll find any excuse to drink pink wine, we're going to use one of those.

Summer Sangria

One 750ml bottle of Rosé wine, chilled (try to stay away from anything too sweet, I've used an Italian with notes of strawberry and tarty rhubarb — if you prefer to sweeten later you can always add a splash of St. Germain or grenadine!)

2 medium peaches, sliced into centimeter sized wedges

1 large plum, sliced into centimeter sized wedges

1 pint/1/2 litre fresh blackberries, rinsed off and dry

Half of one lime, juiced

Layer your prepared fruits in a pitcher large enough to hold about 1.5L. Add on the lime juice and pour in about half your bottle of wine. Give it a light stir or muddle to ensure you're not getting any gaps and top with the rest of your wine. Cover and refrigerate for a few hours, serve with anything involving cold noodles and lots of vegetables, be it a freshly cooked meal or leftover Chinese. It'll last a couple of days.

Serves about 5 glasses total. If making for a party, the usual etiquette is to buy half a bottle per person and scale your other ingredients accordingly.

There are variables, and multiplications*, as well as what I'm calling 'the long division,' which is basically topping your glass off with a splash of any additional sparkling drink. I suppose this is fine if you want your sangria to last longer or sustain a larger party than you accounted for. But don't worry, us kids know how to share.



*As in multiplying the strength by tossing in a splash of good liquor. (I know. I'm a nerd.)