There are some things in life so intertwined with who you are that imagining a day without them feels almost comical. They aren’t always the showiest or most obvious staples, but they’re constants—a blend of tools, indulgences, and small joys that make the chaos of life feel a little more anchored. Over the years, from Yountville to Bordeaux to wherever I misplaced my carry-on that one time in Rome, my essentials have evolved. But here’s the current lineup of the things I just can’t imagine living without.

1. A Perfectly Broken-In Linen Tablecloth: My Version of a Safety Blanket

Listen, I grew up in wine country, where every meal felt infused with an unspoken understanding that food is not simply sustenance—it’s theater, a love language, a way of mapping every flavor to a moment you’ll never forget. A good tablecloth sets the stage. Mine is a soft linen one, gently frayed at the edges, in a shade of ivory that’s somewhere between “classic” and “please don’t serve tomato sauce near this.”

Whether it’s hosting an intimate dinner for two or eating takeout solo with a glass of Pinot Noir (don’t come for me, it pairs beautifully with Thai noodles), this tablecloth transforms any space into the kind of dining experience you don’t want to rush through. It’s been through candlelight dinners, heaps of spilled aioli, and a breakup dinner where someone left me for a yoga-trekking guru in Bali (yes, my tablecloth preserves stories, too). Every time I toss it on, it reminds me that meals—and life—are meant to feel special, even when they’re messy.

2. Garlic Confit: The MVP of My Fridge

Most people have a carton of eggs or a half-finished bottle of hot sauce in their fridge. For me, it’s garlic confit. It’s not flashy, but it’s genius: cloves of garlic gently poached in olive oil until they turn soft, golden, sweet, and versatile beyond belief. Spread it on bread, plop it into pasta, or stir it into a vinaigrette—you’ve practically cooked. Honestly, if I could swipe right on garlic confit, I already would’ve proposed.

Dating correlation? Garlic confit is like that rare human who’s quietly excellent in every situation—low maintenance but always elevating things. A literal softie who makes everything better just by being there. Wouldn’t we all want to date our fridge’s garlic confit?

3. My Travel-Sized French Press: Coffee for One, Romance for All

Sure, I could invest in a high-tech espresso machine that probably has Wi-Fi and an IQ higher than mine. But there’s something achingly romantic about grinding coffee beans in the morning, scooping them into a tiny French press, and inhaling that first breath of rich, nutty steam. My little press has followed me everywhere, from cramped Parisian Airbnbs to delightfully rustic cabins that came without cell service (but with a mouse that I named Pierre out of reluctant respect).

This ritual—a simple press of a plunger—reminds me daily to slow down. It’s proof that your morning doesn’t have to rely on caffeine acquisition speed; it can taste like ceremony, solitude, and the possibility of a new day unraveling its surprises.

4. An Oversized Scarf That Doubles as Emotional Armor

Some people have weighted blankets; I have an obnoxiously large scarf in a warm beige cashmere blend. I swear by it. First dates, family holiday chaos at the airport, a random Tuesday where everything feels too loud—it’s there to swaddle me. A good scarf is a portable hug, and I take mine everywhere because, in an increasingly unpredictable world, warmth and comfort demand portability.

Plus, draped correctly, it screams, “I am effortlessly chic but also approachable enough to know the origin story of your favorite rosé.” And if you’ve ever had an ex run into you at the farmer’s market, you understand how important looking chic (and ever-so-slightly happier than them) really is.

5. A Fully Charged Kindle: My Ticket Out of Reality

Picture this: A plane delay, no Wi-Fi, and a screaming toddler in seat 12B. Enter my Kindle, fully charged and preloaded with an eclectic mix of moody relationship dramas, food-centric memoirs, and—you guessed it—steamy romance novels where every character mysteriously owns a bakery in a quaint European town.

This tiny device has saved my sanity more times than I can count, and in a world where we’re constantly juggling screens, it’s refreshing to have one dedicated entirely to a single purpose: transporting me somewhere else. Bonus points for leaving me feeling smarter—even when that “smarter” is just knowing the existential inner turmoil of a love-struck pastry chef in Lyon.

6. A Bottle of Champagne Always on Standby

Most people keep champagne for special occasions: birthdays, weddings, tax refunds. Not me. Life itself is an occasion worthy of celebration. Some days, you pop that cork because of big news; other days, it’s because you successfully parallel-parked in a crowded downtown.

Growing up in Napa, where excellence spilled as freely as the cabernet, I learned that champagne isn’t just wine; it’s an affirmation. It’s Oprah standing on a table shouting, “YOU’RE AMAZING.” My fridge always keeps a reliable bottle or two on deck, chilling for when the mood calls for bubbles and a reminder that the small wins matter, too.

7. A Journal Filled with Messy, Unapologetic Thoughts

Before I waxed poetic about wine and written recipes meant to be half-followed (always taste-test with reckless abandon), I scribbled incessantly. Not for deadlines or readers, but for myself. My journal is my sounding board, my arena for wrestling with questions like, “Do I text him?”, “What’s the point of basil that refuses to grow in my windowsill?”, and “Did that guy really think pairing a Malbec with lobster was okay?”

Writing doesn’t always bring clarity, but it brings honesty—a messy, unapologetic look at yourself in all your overly romanticized glory. My journal’s pages are dog-eared and wine-stained, a roadmap of who I was and who I’m becoming. It’s self-discovery at its rawest—and believe me, if your love life has seen half the turbulence mine has, you need a safe space to process.

The Conclusion: It’s Never About the Stuff

These things I can’t live without? They’re not just items—they’re rituals, tools, and touchstones of comfort that reflect bigger truths about living with intention. They remind me to pause, savor, celebrate, and sometimes—even in the chaos—laugh at myself. And if life and relationships are about anything, it’s about showing up wholeheartedly, fully equipped with a broken-in tablecloth, a scarf that doubles as emotional support, and the courage to keep uncorking joy.