He had bought a half a case of wine a few years back, 2005 he had thought. It was a Spanish Red, a Rioja Crianza with little renown. A bottle was pulled for special occasions over the course of the next four years also, with little renown. Until the time came for the last bottle, Thanksgiving, 2009. Only two glasses were poured that day, and what glasses they were. What happened next, however, is somewhat of a mystery. After four years of mild struggle to find the right time to open the bottles, the day had seemingly come where the last of the Rioja Crianza spoke to them. Was it nostalgia for the previous 5 bottles being felt that day, wishing there were more? Were the serving conditions and pairings finally, as they say, just right? Or perhaps, just maybe, had they opened up the bottle at the very moment in time that the bottle was intended to be opened? I hope for their sake it was the latter, but I'm somewhat of a romantic.