Bodega NQN "Picada 15" Blend, 2007

Been writing an awful lot about rosés lately. Shame, because some of my favorite summer reds are those friendly, approachable blends everyone pretends to pooh-pooh and then swigs as fast as they can when backs are turned. So! Here's a short and sweet write-up of one of my guilty pleasures.

The 2007 Bodega NQN "Picada" 15 is a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot produced in Patagonia, Argentina. What a country! What wines! Cooler climate makes for better acidity and more distinct character than Chile overall, while the leading grapes - Malbec, Cabernet Sauvignon - are everybody's favorite, even the trendy wine Poindexters in plaid I so want to stomp.

A nice garnet red in the glass, with dusty berries and other red fruit on the nose, and some fruitcake spice to make it fun. Lush but not flabby mouthfeel, this is a round, medium-bodied treat for the big wine aficionado, the kind of man who wears denim and drinks Sonoma Zinfandel. Or Syrah from the Rhone. And fights bulls. Soft tannins, medium, earthy finish with some pepper notes. $10. Pair this with London Broil and mashed potatoes and green beans, or some juicy rare burgers off the grill.

Clos du Tue-Boeuf "La Butte," Touraine, 2009

Touraine has been on my mind this summer... but not for reasons that other attractive, cultured New Yorkers might imagine. Nevermind the numerous Renaissance châteaux dotting the landscape, once ancient strongholds of Angevin kings. Forget the fabled meeting place of Joan of Arc and Charles VII. Shove off, Descartes; run away, Rabelais. Nope, for me Touraine is the place to go for great values in wine made from Gamay. Why? Because Gamay is sexy.

Some of the great stars in winemaking, vignerons extraordinaire, do their good work in Touraine. Chief among these is Thierry Puzelat, who parties hard, dresses well, and rigidly adheres to natural vinification practices. His wines are a solid reason to stick with reds on even the hottest summer nights. I personally experienced a brief out-of-body experience, became delusional with joy, after a glass of the subject of this post. So, that's not true. But everything that follows is totally factual, almost.

The 2009 Clos du Tue-Boeuf "La Butte," made entirely from Gamay, is the kind of wine you'd want to order on your third date, preferably one of those cultured New Yorkers mentioned previously. It isn't expensive, and it doesn't have the cachet of big-name Burgundies made from the ever-sensual and potently loamy-luxurious Pinot Noir. Swirl the glass, however, and you will stop everything else you are doing. You will cease to pay attention; you will risk your rapport with the new girl/boy, and you will sniff. Plump berries, cherries and raspberries with a nice tangy snap, will waft upwards. Swirl, sip, and the acidity comes into play, rocketing you to the wine's next dimension. By now your date is either going very well, as your girl/boy gets into the action in his/her glass, or you have been dumped. Who cares? Beautiful balance, quenching finish. Goddamn.

Put a chill on it. Day or night, open this and say something romantic. It'll work. $13.

Rouge Madon, Touraine, 2008

Sometimes, I want to let loose and try wines based purely on the recommendations of strangers. On those rare days, I imagine strolling into a shop and ambling along until some helpful salesperson catches sight of me. "Oh," I would respond offhandedly do their polite offer of assistance, "I was looking for a wine that smells vaguely of rose petals, cherries, and ferret." A truly courageous connoisseur would look me dead in the eye and ask me: "Ferret, or weasel?" That, or they'd slowly back away and leave me to my browsing. More productive sessions of this sort would almost always land me with an interesting bottle for the weekend.

While this has never once in fact happened, I would like to try it. If I did ask for wine showing berries, roses, and faint notes of animal, it might well net me a bottle of the 2008 Rouge Madon, from genius natural winemaker Christian Venier; Madon is the hamlet in Touraine where he produces his wines. On pouring this wine into a glass, the first thing I noticed was the beautiful color, a pale garnet: perfect for a wine made entirely from Gamay, the grape of Beaujolais. Delicious aromas of, yes, cherries, cranberries, gamy musk, and slight floral notes dance a little dance. Then you find out, on tasting, that this is simply an ethereally beautiful woman cleverly disguised as a bottle of wine. Bright, excellent acidity zings like juicy lightning, red fruits, tender finish. Unbelievably tasty, and affordable: $16. Drink this with a slight chill, pair with thinly sliced salami, or prosciutto.

Cline Ancient Vines Zinfandel, 2007

I just love Zinfandel, as a proper Californian, and frequently linger over both the black pepper raspberry jam of lush Lodi to the anise and blackberry of a Primitivo from Apulia in Italy; whatever Zin my glass holds, my glass is full. So why the total lack of write-ups on here? My camera was never handy; my hand was shaky; my memory gone. Excuses, excuses.

Whatever the reason, my hiatus ends with this wine, the 2007 Cline Ancient Vines Zinfandel. The soul of California liquified and bottled. Bold claim? I don't care. Deep inky red with hints of purple in the glass, showing extremely punchy fruit on the nose: juicy raspberries, blackberries, backed by notes of mocha and white pepper, with vanilla and other spicy hints. Nice dose of new American oak in this one. It reveals more ripe dark fruits in the mouth, with big tannins that cloak your teeth; well-balanced, but a bit lush, this wine ambles in a very satisfactory manner to a long finish. Pairs with almost anything red you would put on a grill. $13.

"Tai Rosso" Rezzadore, 2007

Spring. No other time of year is as confusing as spring. First the air warms up, flowers bud, birds get territorial, jeans become shorts, jackets are flung into closets... and then it all gets rewound by the somehow-always-freezing Sundays of April and May. This past weekend was like that, beautiful Friday, cold Sunday. Everybody became confused and hostile, in need of something reliably comforting, something to pair with grilled Italian sausages or drink on its own.

Enter the 2007 "Tai Rosso," an Italian Grenache from the Veneto region, produced by Rezzadore and imported by a small company out of New Jersey (great guys, met them at a local tasting last spring, when it was too cold to be outside... interesting). A wine with gusto. A wine with spark. A wine with a nice red ruby color in the glass, hinting at tangerine, and then a veritable A-Team of aromas: tart cherries, cranberries, fresh-picked strawberries, hints of orange peel, loam... each time I open a bottle, I get a different set. These wonderfully rich aromas are followed by a bright mouthfeel, with acidity doing its two-step on the tongue while the fruit lingers with some soft tannins at the medium finish. $12. That is right, friends. $12. Buy a case.

Silver Thread Pinot Noir, 2007

Pinot Noir: the grape that makes the fabled wines of Burgundy. Unmatched in sensuality. Layered, aromatic; bemusement in a bottle. Sometimes. Sometimes, it just produces decent, tasty wines we can love casually, much like Mallomars.

The 2007 Silver Thread Pinot Noir, the first produced by this fine maker in upstate New York, falls somewhere between those two extremes. In or out of the bottle, it in no way resembles a Mallomar, but also reaches for humbler goals than the grand cru Burgundies people like me wish they could try, if only once. I hope not to offend the hordes of Mallomarian faithful with this statement. Anyone who adores the fine Mallomar can leave this posting content in the knowledge that I would love to walk the hills of La Romanée with a whole box in hand.

Moving on: I found this wine to be tuna or hibiscus red in the glass, with coppery undertones, decent clarity. Aromas of lilac and cranberry to dark cherry, jammy fruit, with earthy and herbal notes in the mouth. Lovely acidity, good balance, with very soft and subtle tannins, as expected from a cool-climate Pinot. Medium finish, with a nice texture and lingering fruitiness. Pair with roast turkey or duck, or herb-encrusted veal. Or Mallomars. $22.

Serafini & Vidotto "Il Rosso Dell'Abazia," 1999

Today's post is about the 1999 Serafini & Vidotto "Il Rosso Dell'Abazia," but begins with a long digression.

Only one wine has ever brought me to tears. It is unfortunately not eligible for this forum due to its extraordinary price ($350-400 retail), but I name it now to establish my benchmark for truly great wine: the 2004 "Astralis," the flagship Syrah from the Clarenden Hills collection. At first whiff it was the wine that will always haunt me, setting the bar for every wine I've tasted since. Huge, dark, brooding, pungent, rich - but it was an infant! Even then, I knew that the 2004 Astralis was a wine that would not be ready to drink until 15-20 years later; it is still barely approachable now. L'Enfant terrible. Shockingly good.

Which brings me to the focus of today's post: the 1999 Serafini & Vidotto "Il Rosso Dell'Abazia." It has nothing in common with "Astralis," not on the surface. "Astralis" is fermented from Syrah; this wine is made using Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Cabernet Franc, a Bordeaux blend. Clarendon Hills is located 25 miles south of Adelaide, and northeast from the McLaren Vale in southern Australia; Serafini & Vidotto have their vineyards in Montello, a hilly area on the right bank of the Piave river in Treviso, a sub-region within Veneto (see photo).

"Astralis" is an ultra-boutique wine, a world-class luxury item made in a truly New World style. "Il Rosso Dell'Abazia," on the other hand, is an exemplar of Cabernet Sauvignon in its Italian expression, but following the vinification philosophy and techniques of the great French makers. What do these wines share, what intangible quality? Easy: greatness. Why wax eloquent? It is greatness.

I opened the "Il Rosso Dell'Abazia" to celebrate moving to Brooklyn. It was to be paired with prime rib, roasted potatoes, and sauteed mushrooms, the first meal made in our new kitchen. If wine and food pairing could be considered a tango, this wine was definitely the leader. Textbook blood orange fading to pale rose-brown at the rim in the glass. On the nose, the first pour offered devious aromas, almost all secondary: rose petals, waterlilies, tar, olives, hung meats, and hints of dark fruit. In the mouth, "Il Rosso Dell'Abazia" felt like velvet. Over a decade of bottle-aging softened the tannins beautifully, giving it one of the finest textures of any wine I have tasted since "Astralis." More dark fruit in the mouth, along with tobacco and a definite touch of balsamic spice. Long finish, echoing the completely even and balanced experience this wine provides. It touches greatness.

Normally a bottle retails for $80, but I found some for $16 at wholesale. Buying another half-case today. I do not think it will last another year, having just peaked, so find this wine immediately. Pairs with roast game of any kind, simpler fare; let the wine lead you.

Royal Oporto Vintage Port, 2004

I am a dessert wine kind of guy. Not a "give me some of that wine with my Snickers" guy, rather a "stop, wait - with dinner over, let us retire to the crackling fire and wait for the snow to stop falling with glasses of Tokaji" kind of guy. Noting that it had been some while since my last post, and noting I that almost never review dessert wines, I decided to try some port.

Port is a wine with an extremely dynamic and varied past. The appellation where it is produced, the Douro Valley region of Portugal, was demarcated in 1763, making it the third-oldest appellation in the world, after Chianti and Tokaji - two of my other favorite places. Usually a sweet red dessert wine, and is always the result of blending a wide number of grape varieties - up to one hundred types of grape are permitted, but principally Touriga Nacional (Tempranillo), Tinta Roriz, and Touriga Francesa are used, as in the wine under discussion for this post. Fermentation is stopped using a neutral grape spirit called aguardente, which leaves residual sugar in the wine while also boosting alcohol content. The wine is then stored in oak barrels in caves, or cellars, for differing periods of time, depending on the final wine being produced.

It seems appropriate to briefly examine the most common types of Port available:

Tawny Port - this style is produced from red grapes aged in oaken barrels using the Solera process, exposing them to gradual oxidation and evaporation, resulting in a golden-brown color. Aging in oak imparts nutty flavors and aromas to this type of port, which is blended to match the producer's house style (like NV Champagne). Tawny ports are sweet or off-dry and generally considered a dessert wine.

Ruby Port - this is the cheapest and most widely-made type of port. After fermentation, it is usually aged in stainless steel tanks to prevent oxidation, and preserve its rich red color. The wine is fined and filtered before bottling, and is not intended for aging, as its quality will not improve. Ruby port often exudes fresh fruit aromas, and seems bright in the mouth. Meant for casual consumption, this serves as a decent "party port." Like tawny port, this wine is also blended to match the house style.

LBV (Late Bottled Vintage) Port - Late Bottled Vintage port is wine that originally had been destined for bottling as Vintage Port, but because of lack of demand was left in the barrel for longer than had been planned. LBV port wine is intended to provide some of the experience of drinking a Vintage Port but without the need for lengthy bottle aging. This style can feature some great bargains.

Vintage Port - The finest style, representing only about 2% of a Port house's total production. These wines are made from grapes grown in a single exceptional vintage year, showing the finest qualities that can be achieved by that producer and appellation. Vintage ports are aged in oak barrels for a maximum of two and a half years before bottling, and generally require another ten to thirty years of bottle aging before reaching maturity. Since vintage port wines are aged in barrels for only a short time, they retain their dark ruby color, along with fresh fruit aromas and flavors. Particularly fine vintage ports can continue to grow more complex and fascinating for up to a century after they are bottled. Clearly, not every year is a vintage year.

So, this particular wine, the 2004 Royal Oporto Vintage Port, merits attentive description.On the nose, it shows wonderfully full aromas of black fruits, such as cherry and plum with distinct undertones of hazelnuts and dark chocolate. I also caught some notes of burnt caramel and anise. It has a lush, silky mouthfeel, with well-rounded tannins and great balance. Delicious. $15 for a half bottle.

House Wines Showdown, 2010

So, the New Year came and went: memories of giant warehouse parties and dancing and flaming fans and chains and fizz finally went dim. Groggily we pulled ourselves forward into the next decade. A cup of coffee later, we faced the first hours of our first new day and somehow, we pulled through into the first dinner party.

Immediately we considered the first hard choice of 2010: what should we pair with cheeseburgers that evening? Perhaps our guests were nice people but with unsophisticated palates; perhaps we only had a few bottles left in the cellar, including the 2005 Bordeaux that was really meant for something more special. In any case, it would have been wildly inappropriate to open it to drink with a cheeseburger, even for our undoubtedly excellent guests.

Conundrums like the one outlined above have given me cause to seek out the perfect "house" wine, a bottle that is crowd-pleasing yet inoffensive, tasty yet inexpensive, food-worthy yet highly quaffable. Two idiosyncratic candidates have been brought to my attention: House Wine and Big House Red. A tasting was held. A winner was declared. Or is that even true? Do these wines deserve the recognition I am affording them here? Well, sort of; let us continue on with the tasting notes.

The 2008 House Wine Red, produced by The Magnificent Wine Company, is a Cabernet Sauvignon blend showing a nice ruby color in the glass, and featuring aromas of dark cherries, blackcurrants, and toasty oak. Blah blah blah, this is followed by a nice round mouthfeel with supple tannins, broad dark fruit, and a short, dry finish, blah blah blah. Rustic, unpretentious, and merely decent. $9.

The 2007 Big House Red, from Big House Wines, was a red hot mess. Featured varietals in the blend included Syrah, Tannat, and Grenache, Monastrell, Sangiovese, and Barbera. This wine definitely presents itself as a burger wine, and does achieve this standing - but barely so. Dark garnet in the glass, with aromas of red berries backed by hints of chocolate, the wine simply fails to deliver in terms of complexity or structure, although it does have some good acidity. Medium finish. $9.

All in all? Go with the House Wine, and step away from the Big House, at least for these vintages. Either one would serve in a casual setting with lots of people, especially a dinner party oriented towards grilled food - hot dogs, burgers, steak tips, etc. Perhaps new vintages will lead to higher quality, as these winemakers continue to get their feet wet. My last piece of advice is to brave up and spend $5 more per bottle on some delicious Curious Beagle.

Cono Sur "Visión" Pinot Noir, 2008

I will readily admit to preferring French wine over all others for the most part. No country produces wine as focused, as brilliantly complex, or as delicious as French producers can; especially the right makers, especially in good years. There is clearly room here for forceful debate, and the truth of my statement varies from varietal to maker to region to vintage, but I feel safe making this generalization anyway.

Does this mean that we should not bother to try wines made by, say, Chilean vintners? No! Great wine is made everywhere, just as plenty of awful wine is made in France ( Languedoc-Roussillon has an ocean of it, although good wines abound even there). Removing wine from its global context, and becoming too focused, reduces the richness of our appreciation. As long as it is not an over-extracted, muddled fruit-bomb from a huge conglomerate, I will give any wine from any region a fair go.

And here is a wine to appreciate: the 2008 Cono Sur Pinot Noir, from their "Visión" line. These wines are, according to Cono Sur, a celebration of the various terroirs that Chile can offer, using a wide set of varietals grown in the Colchagua Valley to demonstrate how microclimates express wine in varying ways. I have found the "Visión" wines to be very pleasant overall, and would recommend any as a good bet for value.

Their 2008 "Visión" Pinot Noir, a big step up from the baseline Cono Sur Pinot, is lip-smacking. A gorgeous ruby red in the glass, with excellent clarity. The nose struts out aromas of dark cherry and ripe raspberry, juicy and fresh, with layers of coffee and cocoa just barely peeking through the red fruit. Extremely silky in the mouth, with well-balanced acidity and some earthiness towards the medium finish. This would be excellent with pork chops, baked turkey, grilled salmon, or hearty European soups. $12.

Cantele Salice Salentino Riserva, 2006

Often in winter I am looking for just one thing in wine: compatibility with food. If I cannot choke down my glass with whatever is on my plate, immediate action must be taken. The cold months make for hearty dishes, full of roasts, root vegetables, and flavors leaning towards umami. As a result, my rotation of wines shifts to the deep end of the color spectrum, with Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, and Zinfandel dominating dinnertime.

Not all of my meals are giant grilled steaks, however. Sometimes that lamb just wants a little finesse, a light touch. Sometimes I want blackberry fruit without the bramble pepper of Syrah, or the wall of tannin presented by a tight Cabernet Sauvignon. When those times arrive, I look to Italy for inspiration, due to its plethora of obscure varietals and regions that offer some great values.

A recent glance in that direction provided me with this bottle, the 2006 Cantele Salice Salentino Riserva, from Puglia. Affordable, tasty, the wine is a fine example what a blend of 85% Negroamaro and 15% Malvasia Nera, both southern Italian grapes, can achieve. After the grapes are pressed, the juice is fermented in stainless steel tanks, and this shows itself in the clarity of the fruit. In the glass, this wine is a lovely garnet color. The nose features strong notes of blackberry and dark chocolate aromas, punctuated with some mineral. Soft, lush, extremely supple in the mouth, like a kitten using your tongue as a blanket, but without the fuzz or sharp bits. Dark fruit is backed by some light tannins, balanced acidity rounded by malolactic fermentation, and hints of earth and dried herbs. Medium finish. Begs for roast lamb shank or shoulder. $11.

Bogle Petit Sirah, 2007

Most fine wine shops are full of snobs who declare American wine a waste of time, pointing you instead to the most recent bottle in from Chinon, Bourgueil, Naousa, Campania, Bierzo, et cetera. To them I reply: stuff some cheese in that pretentious whine, sir/madam. Now what could inspire me to say such a thing?

Why, the 2007 Bogle Petit Sirah, of course. According to Bogle, this wine is considered their "heritage" varietal. They have been producing it for over 30 years, and a single taste convinced me that popular opinion wins on this one. These days it feels like we need reminding that wines from the United States deserve critical acclaim, that they are not all just flabby fruit bombs lacking finesse. Now by critical acclaim I don't mean the Bubbatown Farmer's Market Gold Harvest Medal or some such, but true glowing reviews in the international literature, such as those I find for Ridge's single-vineyard or Sonoma showings.

Why does Bogle fit the bill? Simple: the wine itself is a brooding, inky reddish purple in the glass, and struts its stuff when swirled. Ripe, juicy aromas of blackberries and plum fruit jump out of the glass, along with hints of spice. In the mouth, this wine is a full-bodied flavor masterpiece, with layers of dark jammy fruit and toasty vanilla oak melding to hints of leather and spice. A bedrock of mouth-coating tannin marches you to a long finish. Pair this with roasted wild game - boar sausages, huge hunks of venison, buffalo steaks, or dry-aged grilled meats. $11.

Petit Amour, Vin de Pays de Vaucluse, 2008

The 2008 "Petit Amour" VdP de Vaucluse offers everything one could possibly hope for in a "house wine": a friendly label, a blend of familiar varietals (Grenache, Merlot, and Syrah), and a cheapness bordering on the obscene. It is an excellent party wine, and pairs with a variety of foods. It is not deserving of undue attention, certainly, but merits mention here as another example of great value at a rock-bottom price.

A nice garnet red in the glass, with aromas of black cherries and currants, with hints of earthiness and dried leaves. This leads to more red fruits cloaked by a hint of oak in the mouth, slightly coarse tannins, and a quick finish. The final impression is of an uninspiring but definitely approachable rustic table wine, good as a go-to; great considering its price at $5 a bottle.

Didier Montechovet "Bourgogne Grand Ordinaire," 2008

When I first tasted this, the wine intrigued me. Later on, however, getting the details proved an embarrassing moment in my career as a wine drinker. This wine rested in a bin full of standard Burgundy when I bought it, and so of course I assumed that "Bourgogne" meant "Pinot," as usual. But the bright aromas on the nose and tart palate told me otherwise. I assumed it was just an eccentricity of the wine, however, and treated it as Pinot. A Pinot even lighter than normal, dancing with crisp acidity in the mouth, almost biting, meaner than most. But I knew my stuff! This was normal Burgundy. Definitely.

And then! lo and behold, truth erupted onto the scene when I mentioned the wine to a knowledgeable staff member at Astor Wine & Spirits (where I happened to buy this bottle). She informed me that this was no standard Burgundy (aka, Pinot Noir), but rather was Gamay, the red grape of Beaujolais, in its current incarnation from Didier Montechovet, an oddball producer - working very close to Pommard - whose wines are always brilliantly expressive, if somewhat challenging. The appellation on the label, "Bourgogne Grand Ordinaire," is a general appellation that is no longer used, with normally very low requirements for wines produced under its category - as the name implies, the wines with "BGO" status are considered very plain compared to AOC wines; however, there is nothing plain about this one.

The 2008 Didier Montechovet Bourgogne "Grand Ordinaire" shows pale brick red in the glass, with a nose packed with cranberry and strawberry aromas tinged with distinct orange peel elements, and a bit of spice and minerality. This in turn rushes into a mouthfeel defined by sharp acidity, especially in the midpalate, balanced to more juicy red berries and mineral; the wine is light-bodied at 10.5% alcohol, with a clean finish. Absolutely the strangest expression of Gamay I have ever encountered, and apparently extraordinarily lean this year; this might be a wine to watch for in the future. $15.

Primarius Pinot Noir, 2007

I am a fan of Burgundy, but great Burgundy is, as every aspiring wine snob knows, "mad expensive." So I turn to the cheaper, still-tasty alternative producing nations, such as New Zealand, the United States, and Chile. For domestic Pinot, I generally turn to Oregon's Willamette Valley, or cooler mesoclimates in California like the Carneros Valley. These regions can produce Pinot with finesse and grace.

The 2007 Primarius Pinot Noir, bottled in Walla Walla, Washington but sourced from good vineyards in Oregon, is an example of domestic finesse, and also has great intensity. Good bang for the buck. A light ruby red in the glass, decent clarity, with a nose of ripe red cherries, floral and vegetal notes, aged meats, and a slight smokiness. This follows with a silky mouthfeel, expressing nice vanilla and spiciness, tinged with mineral. Very well-balanced, long finish. $14.

Finca el Origen Cabernet Sauvignon, 2007

Sometimes I just want a wine that is not the least bit complicated. Something that pairs with burgers. Something heady and full, like a plum left to ripen until it nearly bursts with its own heaviness.

Cabernet Sauvignon is my grape of choice for those moments. 2007 Finca el Origen Cabernet Sauvignon, a Chilean Cabernet of high auspices, has one of the most forward and aggressive presentations out of all of the Chilean Cabernet Sauvignons I have tried in the past few years. Exploding with fruit, well-oaked and textured, this is the answer to the timeless question: Are fruit bombs allowed? The answer is a decisive yes.

Dark ruby in the glass, nearly purple, with great legs and a brooding aspect. The nose bursts with raspberries and plums, with distinctly ripe crushed fruit character; a bit of tobacco and bramble here as well. There are supple tannins, though this one is a bit flabby for my taste. Smooth, long finish. Drink now or keep for a couple of years. $14.

Lolonis Zinfandel, Redwood Valley, 2006

Zinfandel stands alongside Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon as my red grape of choice. Its flavors range from juicy and bold raspberry fruits to darker fruit accented by leather and black or white pepper. It pairs perfectly with grilled steaks and burgers. Summers in California mean summers filled with barbecue nights and glasses of Zinfandel by the beach, or the pool, or the yard. There is every reason to love this wine. In a very visceral way, Zinfandel symbolizes California for me.

That said, everyone should have the opportunity to try a good one. Lolonis was the first organic producer in the United States; over 50 years ago they were using fully organic farming methods, before the idea was even being described in agriculture journals. The grape berries are hand-picked, and the wines are all handcrafted in keeping with a tradition that started in the 1920's, and in fact, the Culinary Institute of America uses the Lolonis Zinfandel as the textbook example of what this varietal can achieve.

Forget Ravenswood. Forget Cline. The 2007 Lolonis Zinfandel was, first of all, beautiful in the glass, pure garnet red. Heady aromas of blackberry and dusty leather, with a glorious hint of pepper at the end. In the mouth the wine has bracing acidity, but perfectly balanced to the dark fruit, with just enough oak toast and supple tannin to complete the package. This is wine meant for marbled meat, grilled, seasoned, hearty. The finish was long and glorious. $20.

Cono Sur Pinot Noir, 2007

Thanksgiving is approaching, and so it is time to ponder some of my perennial favorite dinner wines for this particular holiday. When it comes to pairing wine, two things count most to me: the bird and the trimmings. Turkey is a naturally lean flesh, making it a perfect companion to fruity or even sweeter wines, such as Riesling, Pinot Gris, Beaujolais, or some Pinot Noir. The trimmings tend to be better off when eaten with the reds in this list: my stuffing tends to have Italian sausage in it, and loves being wedded to more rustic Burgundies, while cranberry sauce is a natural pairing with Beaujolais, itself often hinting at cranberry fruit aromas. We also usually have some form of mushroom dish, which can harmonize beautifully with the notes of truffles and earth in Pinot Noir.

And Pinot Noir is the subject of this posting. The 2007 Cono Sur Pinot Noir, Chilean in origin, is a delightful value, perfect as the second red wine poured during Thanksgiving. I first tasted this wine's 2005 vintage, and was equally impressed. It shows an intense brick red in the glass, with bright berry fruit, particularly raspberries, on the nose combining with truffles and dried leaves, with just a touch of meatiness. The mouthfeel is a tasty mix of suppleness and zesty acidity, balanced to just a hint of oak. A great introductory Pinot, although definitely New World in style; you need to appreciate this wine for what it is, instead of holding a Burgundian grudge. Simple and fine. $8.

Chono Carmenère, 2006

Hailing from the high-altitude Maipo Valley in Chile, so named for the river producing the alluvial planes on which the vines grow, this Carmenère is a fine example of the grape's potential even at a lower price range. As previously noted, I find that Chilean wine is a good value in general, although it tends to lack the lean acidity of its Argentinean counterpoints, something I prefer. In certain wines, though, everything comes together perfectly. The 2006 Chono Carmenère is a solid companion to summer or fall cooking, especially if you plan on using a barbecue.

Although wines made from Carmenère can taste green and brambly with insufficient ripening or poor handling, I saw none of that happening. A deep red in the glass. The nose was charged with bright red cherries and other berries, and spice: black pepper, cinnamon, along with hints of tobacco. More berry fruit in the mouth, especially cherries and blueberries, with a supple texture from the tannins; oak resulting from 60% of the wine being aged 10 months in barrel was well-integrated and balanced, lending hints of vanilla. Great finish, and seemingly designed for seasoned red meats on the grill - lamb, filet mignon, or t-bone. $13.

Château Latour-Martillac, 2004

Bordeaux: my ongoing drinking fetish, the ultimate wine in terms of structure, power, and complexity. Nothing grips like great red Bordeaux. With this in mind, it is time to reveal my latest love from the wine region I most often associate with greatness: Château Latour-Martillac, a grand vin from the Pessac-Léognan appellation exhibiting everything I love about the appellations of Graves. First, some information from the Wine Doctor, one of the preeminent wine bloggers. The name "Latour" is, of course, derived from the 12th Century stone tower which stands in front of the chateau, the chai or wine cellars, and the surrounding vineyards. Red and white vines both lie on Pyrrenean gravel, the common terroir of this region, with 33 hectares devoted to red plantings including 60% Cabernet Sauvignon, 35% Merlot and 5% Petit Verdot, and 9 hectares reserved for white grapes including 55% Semillon, 40% Sauvignon Blanc and 5% Muscadelle, with an average age of 30-40 years for all the vines.

Such terroir, along with improved winemaking techniques in recent years, results in wines with intensity and wonderful balance. The 2004 Château Latour-Martillac, comprised of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot, and which received some mixed reviews in early tastings, has bloomed into a wine I would recommend for any table over the next 10 years. I found it to be a glorious dark ruby in the glass, with a highly perfumed nose full of ripe black fruits, cassis, violets, hints of smoke, and dried herbs. Over time it opened up in the glass, and emitted aromas of figs and stony earth. In the mouth, more blackcurrants and cassis paired to chocolate and silky tannins. Powerful, yet harmonious and balanced; far more velvet glove than iron here. Superb. $29 for a half-bottle.