The wine lit up everything inside me: my senses, intellect, wonder. I remember thinking, I need to find the words to describe this wine, because I need to experience this again with my husband and other people I love.

That's why I'm drawn to Come Over October. It's a simple but powerful idea. Open your door, open a bottle, and invite someone over. It's the reason we have birthdays and other holidays, because we need little reminders to slow down and celebrate, even when it's not a special occasion. Getting together is the point.

Many bottles in my life have been bookmarks. At first, friends and family thought I was some sort of wine savant. I'd remember exactly where we were sitting in the restaurant, the decor, our server's name, the food we had, what they were wearing, everything.

That's because wine, through its aromas, is powerfully connected to memory and emotion. None of our other senses are wired that way. That's also why wine is central in helping us create and recall memories.

A few years ago, our family reunion in Halifax almost didn't happen. Schedules wouldn't line up. We couldn't agree on where to meet. Somehow, we pulled it together, and more than 30 aunts, uncles and cousins showed up.

An aunt and an uncle who were there that day have since passed away. I'm so grateful I had one more chance with them. I still have the photos. The wine was on the table, but it wasn't the point. The people were, and so was the conversation. The wine helped us linger a little longer, long enough to hear their stories from when they were children.

I also have memories of summers at my grandparents' home, where there was always a pot of tea simmering on the stove because you never knew when people might drop by. My grandfather would sit out on the porch, and neighbours would occasionally sit in the chair next to him. Unexpected, uninvited, yet welcome. Well, mostly.

Before the pandemic, I used to bring together women who moved in different circles and would never have met otherwise. I'd send out an invitation every month or two to meet somewhere local, and six or eight of us would come.

I loved it when a computer scientist sat next to a massage therapist, who was next to a high school chemistry teacher. You never knew what would bubble to the surface. That's probably why I also love experimenting with unusual food and wine pairings.

Then COVID hit, and we stopped getting together. I've pulled the group together maybe once or twice since, but I lost the regular habit. I've realized how much I've missed it. So have they.

That's what Come Over October asks of us. I'm getting my own posse of women back together. We're going to come over this October. When we do, there'll be a Canadian bottle on the table.

Canadian wine is now banned in the U.S. and used as a bargaining chip, its least useful purpose. If wine represents anything, it's the small family farms that make it and the friends who share it.

Choosing a bottle from a Canadian winery supports the wineries, hotels, restaurants, and communities behind it. Canadians choose Canadian wine only about 30 per cent of the time, while the French drink their own wine 83 per cent of the time. We have room to grow.

The good news is that our wines are terrific. They hold their own in international competitions, and even under the withering eye of picky critics like yours truly.

In a world that leaves us feeling more isolated and lonely, we have a new reason to invite someone to our table. Pull up a chair and come over this October.

Natalie MacLean is the editor of Canada's largest wine review site at www.nataliemaclean.com.