I grew up watching my super fast-speaking, endearingly funny mother make the most fabulous sangria. It was meant for her Friday afternoon group of friends who would each take turns hosting at their homes what was then referred to as “el cafecito”. English translation: a little cup of coffee. But for Spanish people, meeting up for “a little cup of coffee” entails far more than a little cup of coffee. It encompasses traditional assorted pastries, a trifle, party sandwiches, a heaping of guacamole, nachos, sangria and at the very end, the actual coffee itself. And don’t be surprised if you stay over for dinner. Cause otherwise it wouldn’t be a “cafecito”.

It was a nice way to grow up and be introduced to the world around me. I always remember having an army of “aunties”. My mother had carved a sisterhood of friends (much like the one I have formed here in Toronto). Like myself, my mom was also an expatriate living in a foreign country. She didn’t have her family with her, so she recruited her own.

I can vividly see her in her kitchen; feverishly slicing and dicing away at an array of fruit and mixing them with wine & a splash of good old brandy. She would make the sangria in the morning, so that it would be cold and all the flavours would have beautifully set in by the time she served it to her posse. My mother slices and dices so fast- it’s actually really scary to watch. She slices almost as fast as she talks. *Almost*. And she still has all her fingers.

She would always say to me, “Sangria must not be flat!” I would see her emptying a can of ginger ale into the punch bowl. Sangria needs a little fizzle, a little carbonation. The subtle taste of ginger is perfect for this Holiday Sangria. You don’t have to wait until next summer to indulge in a glass of this delicious drink. I have concocted a festive version using winter fruit like oranges, pomegranates, clementines, pears or apples, some cinnamon sticks-you get the idea!