This is the 12th in a series of posts about New York
For years, my friends and I got together on Wednesdays to drink wine. We called it “Winesday.”
Eventually, we got old, and could no longer guzzle a bottle or two of wine (each!) mid-week, so the tradition tied out, but the name prevailed.
Winesday, though, was such an integral piece of my New York experience. Every year that I have done these New York posts, I have written about these people and the process of coming together at the table to drink and break bread like it’s a religious thing. In some ways, it was.
We may have gone our separate ways and moved on, but these are my people.
My New York People.