The daily digest of Twin Cities culture | Secrets of the City

One of my dearest friends in the world called this morning. She was just home from a trip to Mexico, which she took with two women she's known since grade school to celebrate their collective 50th birthday year.

She told me the weather was great. She told me there are tons of great restaurants in Cabo San Lucas. She told me her doctor called while she was there to give her the results of her mammogram: She has breast cancer.

Never mind she's actually only 49 (the birthday is in January), not even approaching menopause, or that she's a size 4 who works out five times a week and has never smoked in her life. She eats fresh fruits and vegetables - organic whenever possible - and very little red meat; she's given birth twice and breastfed her babies, now 21 and 17, for a total of two years and five months.

"I thought I was safe," she confided. "I only scheduled the mammogram because things were slow at work."

I know what she means. I'm pretty sloppy myself.  Breast self-exams?  Uh, yeah. When I remember, which is like twice a year. And mammograms - I think I've had two. Which isn't terrible, at 42, but it's not like I think about this. Spinning will keep me healthy. Broccoli, olive oil, garlic. I'm just sure I've got it covered. Nothing can touch me.

It's possible I'm wrong.

We got together this afternoon, just the two of us, with me determined not to say all the stupid things people do. Most of the time we spent talking about her children and mine; the state of the economy; books by John Updike and Richard Yates; sex; husbands; sex as it pertains to husbands; and politics in Illinois.

We also opened my last bottle of Château Saint Baillon Le Roudai 2003, a red table wine from Provence. There is absolutely nothing surprising about this blend, which is what made it so perfect for the day. Le Roudai is smooth and dry with just a hint of peat. This wine probably is best with food - salty cheeses, cured meats - but also can be (I'm here to attest) consumed alone. It's available at Sam's Wine Shop in Minneapolis, Thomas Liquors in St. Paul, The Wine Shop of Minnetonka, and Lakeside Wines & Spirits in Long Lake. 

Now, it may seem ironic to you that we sat down to drink in light of her news. But that, I must admit, is what we do. Long ago, this friend and I discussed the alcohol-breast cancer link and decided that given everything else we do to ward off the disease, a glass or two can't hurt. And I tend to believe that still. Because given the life my friend has led, cancer seems more whimsical than ever.

"I think you may have to stop drinking wine if you have chemo," I said as I poured her the last.

And a horrified look crossed her face, far more anxious than any I'd seen thus far.

"Oh, I can't imagine," she said. "On top of everything else that's happened, that would be just cruel."

Then we both laughed and drank until the wine was gone.