The 2-Ingredient Cocktail I Turn to After a Long Day

I don’t want to write about white port. I don’t want to explain how it’s made or how it’s different from its ruby and tawny counterparts. I don’t want to engage with the performative exercise of a tasting note, boring myself with thoughts about a lemony nose this or a bitter finish that. I simply want to pop open a bottle and pour it over some fresh ice cubes in a hefty rocks glass, with a bit of tonic, or Orangina, or even flavored seltzer. Maybe go wild and mix the drink with my finger—why not, it’s just me, myself, and I on this lazy afternoon. I want to sit in my favorite chair, next to my cat who is basking in the sun, and read that sci-fi book that’s been languishing on my bedside table for months. I want to pass the afternoon slowly sipping the drink in my hand, without an ounce of worry or regret that I didn’t follow a recipe, that I’m simply vibing, as the kids say. No, I don’t want to write about white port. I want to sing about it, how it feels like releasing one’s shoulders when reading a particularly good poem, like Ross Gay’s “Thank You.” I want to take in “the garden’s dormant splendor” and enjoy how summer gives way to autumn. I want to invite my best friends over and mix up a pitcher of white port martinis—gin is much too high-octane for our aging metabolisms. As we gossip and giggle, our barks filling the air, I commit to memory the unphotographed snapshot of the once-heaving pitcher, the drained bottle, and lip-stained glassware, joyous evidence of our scheming. I want that very much. Baronesa de Vilar White Port Tasting of candied orange, a bit of almond bitterness, and golden caramel syrup, it is sunset in liquid form. Quinta de la Rosa Extra Dry White Port Perfumed with a note of pear, this offering is a great lower-alcohol substitute for gin or vodka in most cocktails but equally quaffable when splashed with tonic or seltzer. Fonseca Porto Siroco Extra Dry White Port Crisp as a new dollar bill with delicate floral and bitter notes, this bottling takes its name from the Mediterranean wind that originates in North Africa. These highly curated bottles are asking to be poured at your next dinner party.