The evening light hits the ridge and turns everything amber. Someone passes you a glass so dark it is almost purple, heavy with fruit and gently sparkling.

Chokecherries grow wild across Montana -- along fence lines, creek banks, and the back roads between nowhere and somewhere. They are too bitter to eat straight, but when you cook them down into a syrup they become something extraordinary: deep, tart, and darkly sweet, like a cherry that has been places.

This sangria takes that syrup and marries it with a dry red wine and a full cup of moonshine. The fruit soaks overnight, getting boozy and soft, and the sparkling water goes in right before you pour. The result is a pitcher that tastes like the tail end of a Montana summer -- warm enough for bare feet, cool enough for a flannel by the fire.

Make it the night before your guests arrive. The longer it sits, the better it gets. Just like everything else worth waiting for up here.