LL no longer eats lamb or veal, so when she is traveling, on one night I’ll often buy lamb or veal chops and sit down with a phalanx of red wines to try with some of my favorite meats. She was out of town recently, so I got three small but thick loin lamb chops, sauteed them simply with rosemary, salt and pepper in a dab of olive oil (in the good old iron skillet), roasted a couple of potatoes and dutifully steamed a handful of green beans, which I actually ate, I promise.

Looking through the wine shelves and boxes at home, I grabbed six bottles, not really thinking about place or origin; I just wanted predominantly cabernet sauvignon wines. Turns out that two were from the Columbia Valley in Washington State, one from Australia’s Padthaway region and three were from the Napa Valley. Or without thinking about prices, which turned out to range from fairly expensive to outright expensive. On the other hand, the wines were excellent. While with one exception the alcohol levels were all above 14 percent (and what’s not nowadays), the wines were balanced and integrated, with none of the flamboyant toasty oak or excessive ripeness that render so many contemporary red wines questionable.

What is it about lamb and cabernet/merlot-based wines that makes them so amenable, so fated, as it were, to a marriage made in culinary heaven? Lamb is fatty, ripe itself in the way that good fresh meat can be ripe, a little earthy and gamy (it’s “wilder” than beef or pork) and, in the way that great beef has, it possesses a mineral quality that the heat of the flame brings out. Wines composed solely or mainly of cabernet sauvignon or merlot offer, in their own vinous ways, very similar qualities: the richness and ripeness, the “fat,” the mineral elements. Sometimes I like pinot noir with lamb, but most of the time, give me cabernet or merlot.

These wines are mentioned in the order of tasting.

*The blend of the Matthews Cellars Claret 2004, Columbia Valley, is 55% cabernet sauvignon, 22% merlot, 18% cabernet franc, 4% malbec and 1% syrah. The color is dusky ruby-purple; the bouquet wafts a seductive strain of lavender and licorice, ripe, fleshy, meaty and dusty black currant and black raspberry. The wine is dense and chewy, smooth and mellow, packed with smoke and spice and minerals; after a few minutes in the glass, it opens earthy layers of underbrush and forest floor, polished oak and fairly gritty tannins. It’s a lovely red wine, accessible and delicious yet capable of aging through 2014 or ‘15. Excellent. About $32.

*Notice how the combination of grapes on the Matthews Red Wine 2003, Columbia Valley, is similar to the blend of the previous wine but without the malbec and syrah; this is 53% cabernet sauvignon, 26% cabernet franc and 21% merlot. The first impression is of an incredible and heady smoldering heap of bitter chocolate, mint and eucalyptus, cedar and smoke, potpourri, lavender and sandalwood. Then the fruit comes up in a welter of macerated and roasted black currants, black cherries and plums. It’s a high-strung wine, taut with acid, energized by minerals, but still dense and cushiony, lavish with firm oak and grainy tannins that gain power and substance as moments pass. Try from 2009 through 2012 to ‘15. 823 cases. Excellent. About $60.

*Made from 100% cabernet grapes, Henry’s Drive Cabernet Sauvignon 2005, Padthaway, delivers the towering heft and darkness of a softly cloaked monument. This is a wine of piercing purity and intensity, huge and vibrant, deeply imbued with dusty oak and grainy tannins and seething with earthy, mossy, forest floor qualities and a resonant mineral element that lends the wine tremendous dynamism. Fruit falls into the realm of rich, ripe and fleshy black currants and black raspberries with touches of mint and eucalyptus and toasted Asian spices channeling licorice and lavender. For all its size and complexity, the wine is beautifully balanced and integrated. Try now, served with barbecue brisket or chili-rubbed pork chops and such fare, from 2010 to 2015 or ‘16. Case production was 1,150. Excellent. About $37. Great stuff.
The wines of Henry’s Drive Vignerons, which include Henry’s Drive, Parson’s Flat, Pillar Box and Dead Letter Office, are imported by Quintessential, Napa, California.

*Merryvale Vineyards no longer offers a “reserve” designation, under which this wine would previously have fallen. The level is now the “Signature Tier,” though that term does not occur on the label. In any case, the Signature Tier wines find a niche between the less expensive “Starmont” line and the top-of-the-line Profile and Silhouette.
The Merryvale Cabernet Sauvignon 2005 is composed largely of grapes that would have gone into the Profile, had Profile been made in 2005. Produced from 100 percent cabernet sauvignon grapes and aged 18 months in French oak, 32% new barrels, this feels like classic Napa Valley cabernet. It’s deep, rich and lush, dark as the night that covers us from pole to pole, a serious, intense and concentrated wine. The bouquet is woven from walnut shell and wheatmeal, mocha, cedar and tobacco and — give it a few minutes — aromas of tightly wound black currant and black cherry. The wine is huge in the mouth, notably tannic , earthy and minerally, bursting with spice, and yet for its size, it delivers a remarkable degree of finesee; it’s almost light on its feet. Of this group of wines, it’s the one that cried “Rib-eye steak, please, hot and crusty from the grill!” Drink 2010 through 2015 or ‘16. Excellent. About $50.

*My first note on the Bourassa Vineyards Symphony3 Proprietors Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon 2004, Napa Valley, is “Wow, what a mouthful of wine.” This producer believes in strenuous oak treatment, as in three years in French barrels (no indication as to the proportion of new to used), yet the wine is immaculately bright, vivid and vibrant, deliciously smooth and mellow. Notes of ripe, meaty and fleshy black currants, black raspberries and cherries teem in the glass, well-laced with smoke, spice and potpourri. Earthy, minerally tannins feel finely milled, as if they had been ground between giant rollers of iron-flecked velvet, while oak is powerful and polished and a tad debonair. This is, in other words, a wine of lively contrasts and happy resolutions. Best from about 2010 to 2015 to ‘18. Cases produced: 500. Excellent. About $60.

*Three years in French oak is also the regimen for the Bourassa Harmony3 Red Wine 2003, Napa Valley. The blend is 56% cabernet sauvignon, 23% malbec and 21% cabernet franc; the alcohol level is a mild-mannered 13.5 percent. What an absolutely lovely, vigorous, palate-pleasing red wine, pure pleasure! It offers wonderful balance and integration, great breeding and character, classic equilibrium of power and elegance, each element essential and inevitable. Yes, it does get pretty smacky, minerally and foresty on the finish, just as it should. I won’t say that I would choose this wine over the others on this page, because they’re all tremendously enticing, filled with depth and detail, yet this one seems special. Cases production: 450. Excellent. About $48.

I don’t know what the weather is like in your neck o’ the woods, but here in what’s called the Mid-South, the corner where Tennessee, Mississippi and Arkansas touch — well Tennessee and Arkansas don’t touch because this big-ass river flows between —
the weather is absolutely gorgeous (after inordinate rain), and I wish it would never get hotter, as vain a wish as humankind ever made, because by July here it will be insufferable.

Anyway, since the clime is mild and pleasant and enjoyable, I offer six white wines, ranging from about $9 to about $20, that will serve you well in this transitional season.

Let’s start with Twin Vines Vinho Verde 2007, from the sprawling Vinho Verde (”green wine”) region of northern Portugal, which, oddly, lies to the north (mainly the north) and south of the Douro river and intrudes between the port vineyards and the coastal town of Oporto that is the center of the port trade. So, after that little geography lesson, this Vinho Verde ‘07, made by the Jose Maria da Fonseca winery, is exactly what you want in this wine; it’s notably clean and crisp, slightly effervescent, light, delicate and refreshing in its lemon-lime, grapefruit and limestone elements with a hint of talc and gunpowder. Yeah, it sort of tickles the nose. The grape varieties are loureiro 42%, trajadura 39%, pederna 19%. A simple and charming aperitif. Good+. About $9. Palm Bay Imports, Boca Raton, Florida.

The Vino dei Fratelli Pinot Grigio delle Venezia 2006 is as good as many examples at twice the price. It’s quite dry and crisp, weaving a dominant lemon character with a hint of lemon balm, with cloves, almond and almond blossom and a bit of dried thyme and tarragon. The texture is attractively silky, almost powdery, yet the wine displays crackling acid for backbone and a tide of limestone on the finish. Very Good, and at about $9, a Great Bargain. Imported by Quintessential, Napa, California.

Here’s an unusual blend of white grapes. Pillar Box White 2006, produced by Henry’s Drive in the Padthaway region of South Australia, combines 66% chardonnay with 20% sauvignon blanc and 14% of the Spanish verdelho variety. The result is a wine that feels pale gold and green in every respect, in color, of course, but also (trying to perform a feat of synesthesia by translating color into smell) in its jasmine and honeysuckle scents accented by roasted lemon, lime peel, pink grapefruit and pear. It’s pretty heady stuff. A few minutes in the glass bring in notes of almond and almond blossom, yellow plum, damp stone. Incredibly crisp and deftly balanced, the acid chimes like a gong though the wine’s texture is dense, almost lush. This was terrific with grilled swordfish marinated with soy sauce, lime juice and zest, garlic and freshly grated ginger. Very good+, and at about $12, it’s another Great Bargain. Imported by Quintessential, Napa, California.

There’s a hint of coyness about the label of the Clayhouse Adobe White 2007, Central Coast. If you add up the percentages of the blend of grapes listed on the label — chenin blanc 34%, chardonnay 17%, roussanne 16%, viognier 11% — the keen-eyed among you will notice that the figures come only to 78 percent. The missing 22 percent is made of princess grapes, a variety not sanctioned as legal for making wine by the federal TTB (Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau). Will the grape ever be permitted on the roster of “real” wine grapes; one’s reaction could be, “Oh, who cares?” but the princess grape certainly lends this spare, almost elegant wine interesting touches of spice and fresh flowers, a sort of amalgam of cloves, roses and jasmine. The wine also offers orange blossom and pear, a hint of lush peach balanced by the slight astringency of grapefruit and a cool mineral element. A little sweetness comes across as juicy ripeness. The roussanne is given a little oak; the rest of the wine was made in stainless steel. This goes down almost too easily; LL and I drank the bottle standing in the kitchen, eating manchego cheese and flatbread while trying to decide what to have for dinner after one of those long days at work. Um, I’m not sure what we ever decided. Very Good. About $15.

I’m an unabashed fan of the X Winery ES Vineyard Sauvignon Blanc from Lake County. For 2007, the wine is tremendously clean, fresh and crisp, boldly spicy and flavorful without resorting to the brash vegetal and herbal excesses with which sauvignon blancs from New Zealand can sometimes assault us. Not that the X Winery ES Sauvignon Blanc 2007 doesn’t just jump from the glass with sprightly notes of pear and melon, lime peel and jasmine, hints of mango and grapefruit, and not that it doesn’t practically vibrate in the glass, it’s so ringingly resonant, but that vibrancy and resonance derive from the purity and intensity of the grape and its minimal treatment in stainless steel, its shimmery luster of minerality. Almost too exciting to use as an aperitif, this would be great with grilled shrimp or mussels or with trout served with lemon-butter and capers. Very good+ About $17.

I served the Hugel et fils Riesling “Hugel” 2005, Alsace, with a pick-up pasta of penne with roasted chicken, roasted red pepper, green olives and chopped kale. This venerable firm’s “Hugel” wines are not estate-produced but are made from purchased grapes derived from long-term contracts, and there’s not a thing wrong with that procedure. This riesling is very dry, crisp and clean, and its tasty lemon and lemon balm flavors, infused with lime and grapefruit, are bolstered with bastions of damp limestone and chalk. The wine is quite spicy, and it displays a hint of the grape’s requisite “petrol” character with touches of pear and, less distinctly, peach. Well-made and attractive. Very good+. About $19 or $20 is the usual price, though on the Internet I have seen a range from $16.50 to $22. Imported by Frederick Wildman & Sons, New York.

We were putting together dinner Thursday night. I was making a pasta with some leftover pot-roast I had prepared last weekend, but not just any pot-roast. This hunk of beef was slow-cooked with a puree of dried ancho chilies, chipotle peppers with adobo sauce, coffee, lime, garlic and onions. Have mercy! I chopped some of the remaining beef, scrapped what was left of the puree into the pan with it and gradually added a 28-ounce can of diced tomatoes. It all made an intensely flavorful sauce for penne pasta. The recipe is in The Best of Gourmet: Sixty-Five Years, Sixty-Five Favorite Recipes (Random House, $40); it was intended for short ribs but certainly worked with the roast.

Anyway, LL brought a carton of kumquats from the grocery store. These curious little orangey-yellow fruits, with their tasty but bracing, bitter citrus tang, originated in China, but their small, shrubby trees are now cultivated there and in Japan, Taiwan, Argentina, Brazil, Cyprus and the United States. The kumquat is not a true citrus fruit but belongs in the same Rutaceae family. (This information comes from the invaluable New Oxford Book of Food Plants, Oxford University Press, 1997; no home serious about food and ingredients should be without it.)

We had worked with kumquats years ago, when we prepared Charlie Trotter’s Wok-Smoked Catfish with Sweet-and-Sour Fennel and Kumquat Sauce for a dinner party; this is a great dish! It’s in The Kitchen Sessions with Charlie Trotter (Ten Speed Press, 1999), a book with recipes designed for cooking at home. Anyway, this recipe recommends simmering the kumquats in water three separate times to remove some of the bitterness. LL did that, chopped the kumquats, which by now were pretty soft, and whisked them into a lemon and olive oil dressing. I guess I shouldn’t call the dressing a vinaigrette since we rarely use vinegar in salad dressings; using freshly squeezed lemon juice makes salads easier to eat with wine.

The salad consisted of a variety of fresh greens, sliced cucumbers and the kumquat dressing, which had chunks of kumquat in it. It was a terrific salad, made even better by the wine we sipped with it, the August Kesseler Riesling Lorcher Schlossberg Kabinett 2004, from Rheingau. At three-and-a-half years old, this riesling was soft, round and blossomy, offering a weaving of pear, peach, lime and lime peel with hints of jasmine and rose petal. In the mouth, the wine is crisp and just off-dry, more ripe and bright and vivacious than sweet; the finish brings in clean but slightly earthy limestone. The primary impression is of lovely subtlety, of a breezy wreathing of delicacies. It was lovely, also, with the salad, the wine matching and even taming the citric vividness of the kumquat-and-lemon dressing, the slight bitterness of the kumquat adding a hint of dimension to the wine. I rate the wine Very Good+. The price is about $25 to $30. The wines of this estate are brought to the U.S. by August Kesseler Import Co. in Chicago.

With the “pot-roast” pasta, we drank the Parson’s Flat Shiraz Cabernet 2004, produced by Henry’s Drive Vignerons in Australia’s Padthaway region. The blend is 70 percent shiraz, 30 percent cabernet sauvignon. The wine ages 16 to 18 months in large and small barrels, 75 percent American, 24 percent French. This is a very big but well-mannered red wine, very ripe, quite dense and chewy, very spicy, quite vibrant with acid. It delivers mint and eucalyptus, black raspberries covered with bittersweet chocolate and layered with blackberries, plums and a touch of super-ripe boysenberry. This all sounds flamboyant (like an over-the-top zinfandel), but the package, while expressive almost to the point of exuberance, is nicely controlled by dry, slightly gritty tannins that load the finish with austerity. Delicious now with hearty fare, the wine could age a couple of years and drink well through 2012 or ‘14. I rate it Excellent. The price is about $40. Henry’s Drive wines are imported by Quintessential in Napa, Ca.

The kumquat picture is from jupiterimages.com.

The albariño grape might be the great white grape of Spain. It grows particularly well in Rias Baixas, a small vineyard region in Galicia, Spain’s northwestern-most province. The Atlantic Ocean, which part of Riax Baixas touches, exerts a powerful influence on the coastal vineyards. The wines tend to be delicate, deeply floral and abundantly spicy. Though some producers are experimenting with barrel aging, I think that albariño doesn’t take kindly to such treatment; oak turns the wine into some alien distortion of itself and robs it of its inherent freshness and delightful character.

I tried two wines made from albariño grapes recently, and if they’re not the best I ever tasted, they come damned close. They’re made by Adegas d’Altamira, a small family-owned property above the Atlantic with beneficial proximity to ocean breezes and excellent drainage. Some of the albariño vines on the estate are over 100 years old; the entire estate was turned over to albariño in the late 1930s. Though several generations of the Touriño family had been involved in growing grapes and making wine, the first wines with labels bearing the estate’s name were bottled only in 2004. It was about time.

The estate produces two wines, the Brandal and the Adegas d’Altimiral; both are 100 percent albariño grapes. Neither sees any oak, and neither goes through malolactic fermentation, so the wines are incredibly fresh and crisp. The differences between the wines is that the Brandal undergoes 12 hours of pre-fermentation skin maceration and rests in stainless steel tanks for six months to be clarified. Adegas d’Altimira is given 24 hours of skin fermentation, and for three months of stabilization in tank, it rests on the lees of dead yeast cells to furnish the wine with depth and complexity.

The Brandal 2006 is absolutely lovely. Scents of crushed jasmine, roasted lemon and lemon curd and dried thyme waft from the glass. As you sip the wine, it picks up hints of peach and pear and a touch of dried orange rind, while layers of limestone and chalk add a bulwark of mineral-like seriousness. The texture is that gratifying combination of scintillating liveliness and talc-like softness; the finish brings in a bit of grapefruit bitterness. Brandal 2006 will make wonderful drinking through the summer, as an aperitif and with seafood appetizers or pasta dishes. The wine rates Very Good+. About $15, a Great Bargain.

If Brandal 2006 is lovely, Adegas d’Altamira 2006 is gorgeous. Take every element of Brandal ‘06, intensify it and burnish it, but don’t let it be unbalanced or overbearing. Here we find suaveness, a hint of lushness tempered by a profound limestone-flinty element, a sense of energy derived from bell-like acid and the ripeness of juicy lemon, peach and pear flavors. The floral note is subdued, but the spicy aspect is more prominent. The wine, while crisp and jazzy, flows like silk over the tongue and palate. As with its less expensive cousin, the Adegas d’Altamira ‘06 concludes with a bracing rinse of grapefruit and grapefruit rind. Serve with grilled fish and seafood though the end of 2008 and into 2009. Excellent. About $25.

The wines of Adegas d’Altamira are imported by Quintessential Wines in Napa, Ca. Visit quintessentialwines.com.

Many of the traditional grapes used to make white wine in Italy don’t take kindly to oak. Occasionally (or too frequently nowadays) one runs upon a wine that has been forced through a barrel regimen and come out like a torturous caricature of itself. You want to call Switzerland and see if somehow the Geneva Convention has been violated. The example of such a sad case is the pinot grigio mentioned below, but first take a look at a roster of completely charming, even intriguing white wines.

What’s intriguing in the bad way are the prices of several of these products. Apparently we’re seeing the reality of the dominant euro, stomping around in shiny black boots and kicking the bejesus out of the poor wimpy dollar, and the rise in the cost of oil for transportation, heating, electricity and so on. So, yeah, the first seven of these wines are terrific, but you pays yer money and you takes yer choice.

These wines are Marc de Grazia Selections, imported by Vin DiVino in Chicago. Visit marcdegrazia.com.

1. The Tavignano Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi Classico Superiore 2006 comes from one of Italy’s least-known regions. Marche or The Marches, occupies a long stretch of the coastal calf of Italy’s boot, between Emilia-Romagna to the north and Abruzzi to the south. Verdicchio grapes produce by far the region’s best white wines — Verdiccio dei Castelli de Jesi and Verdicchio Matelica — though that white variety is overshadowed by several reds, especially Rosso Conero, which must contain at least 85 percent montepulciano grapes. In any case, Tavignano’s Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi Classico Superiore 2006 is indeed a superior version. The wine is bright and clean and abounds with lemony accents that are spicy and a little roasted and buttery, though the wine balances this touch of lushness with brisk acid, bone-dryness, hints of slightly astringent dried herbs and, on the finish, a penetrating mineral quality. Delightful and versatile for spring and summer drinking. Very Good+. About $16.

2. If your memory of Frascati is of an innocuous and forgettable wine, this one may change your mind. The name is ancient and derives from the hill-town fewer than 20 miles southeast of Rome, the center of the province of Lazio (often called Latium in English). The grapes for Frascati are principally malvasia di candia, malvasia del Lazio and trebbiano bianco, with, for this wine, bombino, ottonese and cacchione; for those trying to join The Century Club of people who have experienced 100 grape varieties, Frascati offers you the chance to encounter some obscure examples.
Since 1981, Piero Costantini has worked to revive the reputation of Frascati. His Massarosso Frascati Superiore 2006 is dry and notably spicy; it’s a spare, crisp white wine, lithe and lively and supple. Scents and flavors of roasted lemon and lemon balm are infused with a strain of some astringent summer flower and touches of dried Mediterranean herbs. The finish offers more spice and layers of limestone. I’ll go Excellent on this one. About $16 and a Great Bargain.

3. The blend of grapes for the Palazzone Terre Vineate Orvieto Classico 2006 — Orvieto is a beautiful and fairly large hill-town in western Umbria — is 50% procanico, 25% grechetto, 15% verdello and 10% malvasia and drupeggio, the latter a local grape so obscure that it doesn’t show up in Oz Clarke’s Encyclopedia of Grapes. This is as pure and intense an Orvieto as I have ever tasted and also the most suave and elegant. It’s a lovely wine, delivering elements of lemon drop and orange rind, almond blossom and camellia, baking spice, hints of dried thyme and tarragon; it’s very crisp, dry and vibrant, yet smooth and slightly steely. It would be great with grilled trout or skate in a classic sauce of brown butter and capers. Excellent. About $18.

4. We go back to The Marches for the Bisci Verdicchio di Matelica 2005, a very dry, spare and sinewy wine that’s quite stony and earthy and briery, with a powerful limestone-damp granite component, scintillating acid and a finish that pulls in lemon peel and grapefruit astringency. A bit more demanding than thoroughly enjoyable, but should be terrific with fresh oysters and mussels. Very good+ About $19.

5. Perhaps the falanghina grape will make the break-through white wines of Campania, the region that extends north, east and south of Naples. Its less frequently seen name, falanghina Greco, may indicate origins in Greece. Cantina del Taburno is a significant association of 300 producers in the province of Benevento, which clusters around the city of that name inland and northeast of Naples. The Taburno Falanghina 2007 is a terrific example of the cantina’s craft. This is a lovely wine, seductive in its accents of jasmine and almond blossom, lemon and toasted almond and hints of dried thyme. In the mouth, the wine balances crispness and liveliness with a moderately lush texture, delicious flavors of roasted lemon, lemon balm and orange rind, all tied with a glint of limestone on the finish. A great bet for matching with grilled shrimp or mussels. Very good+ About $20.

6. The Serramarrocco Grillo del Barone 2006, from Sicily, 100% grillo grapes, is fermented and matured in old-fashioned concrete vats rather than stainless steel. It rated a “wow” as my first note. Shamelessly floral and spicy, the wine bursts from the glass in a welter of white flowers, dried baking spice, roasted lemon and a hint of grapefruit. “Haunting” is not a word I typically use in reviews, but this wine was strangely beguiling and intense, offering a flavor panoply of lemon in all its forms, with a touch of candied fruit, and a texture of pleasing heft and elevating powers, a combination of brisk acid and talc-like softness and a total permeation of chalk and limestone. A Great Effort. Excellent. About $26.

7. I’m sorry, but $29 is a boodle of money for any wine made from the vermentino grape, which normally produces wines that are charming and pleasant and drinkable. The Terenzuola Vermentino Fosso di Corsano 2006, from the Colli di Luna (”hills of the moon”) region of northwest Tuscany, is fermented in concrete vats and aged on the lees in stainless steel for six months, special treatment indeed, and the result is a wine of definite class and breeding. Made from grapes taken from vineyards 1,300 feet above sea-level, the wine is fresh and lively, lemony and spicy, with a sense of long-drawn-out acid and scintillating mineral elements, of balance and integration, that raise it above the usual product of the grape. O.K., it’s probably the best vermentino I’ve ever tasted, and I’d be happy to pay, oh, $18 for it. Excellent. About $29.

8. The Vie di Romans Dessimis Pinot Grigio 2005, Isonzo del Friuli, is a result of trying too hard in the winery to make a grape into what it is not. Even pinot grigio doesn’t deserve to be turned into a ringer for an over-oaked chardonnay, which is the effect this wine had on me. Barrel-fermented and matured seven months in French barrels, the Vie di Romans Dessimis Pinot Grigio 2005 is rich and ripe, glossy and roasted and slightly buttery, massively structured, stridently spicy, quite evidently oaky and overall grotesque. Poor innocent, unsuspecting grapes! I rarely do this, but I pin an “Avoid” rating on this mutant. Which shouldn’t be difficult for you to do, since the suggested retail price is about $44.

I was going to make this year’s wine-drinking mantra “All Classified Growths @ Others’ Expense,” but then Dr. Debs at goodwineunder20, in a response to a recent post of mine on this blog, utter words of such wisdom that I have to pass them along, rather then leave them buried in the comments file:

“I would love to have a drinking plan that included only wines that were enough — not more, not new, not improved, not pumped up. Just exactly right.”

All right, so top Bordeaux and Burgundy weren’t really going to be my game-plan for 2008 — how about ‘09? — but the Good Doctor’s simple eloquence should have benign influence on all of us wine writers and consumers. By “just exactly right,” I venture to say that Doc means wines that reflect the grapes from which they are made; wines that reflect, as much as possible, the place where they are made; and wines that embody honesty, integrity and authenticity rather than ego, ambition and manipulation. Now, truly, what more could we ask for? Well, yes, fair prices.

You’re great, Doc. I’m covering your back.

LL had to work late last night, so I took over dinner duties and braised some baby bok choy (salt, pepper, olive oil, lemon juice and sprigs of thyme), roasted some potatoes and cooked salmon (fresh farm-raised steelhead) in the way we usually do it, nothing but salt, pepper and a squeeze of lemon, sear it in a hot pan one minute on each side and then put the pan with the salmon in a 400-degree oven for three or four minutes. The salmon emerges slightly crusty on the outside and almost creamy inside, cooked just past rare.

Anyway, there had been a bottle of Italian white wine in the refrigerator, brought to the house by a friend — thanks, Mike! — who came to a tasting here a few months ago. Knowing nothing about the wine, not having actually looked at it carefully, I thought, why not? The full name of the wine is: Vidussi Podere di Spessa Ronchi di Ravez Collio Bianco 2002. (Collio lies in Italy’s northeastern region of Friuli, abutting Slovenia.) So, here’s a five-year-old white wine from Italy. Whoa, what’s this going to be like?

The name of the wine might as well add up to “fantastico!” Lord have mercy, it came from the bottle in a stream of bright medium, slightly brassy gold, and as we sat there at dinner both LL and I uttered variations on the theme: “It’s like what a wine would taste like if it were gold.” Or maybe: “It’s what gold would taste like if it were wine.”

Here’s the report: The Ronchi di Ravez Collio Biano 2002 acted like a dessert wine in the nose and a bone-dry wine in the mouth. By which I mean that the bouquet was a seductive weaving of candied orange rind, honeyed and roasted peaches, apricots and smoked almonds. In the mouth, however, it was all apple and pear, lanolin and dried herbs, dynamic acid and notes of anise and lavender. “Meadowy” was a word that came up, but not a high summer meadow brimming with flowers, no, this would be a late summer to fall meadow, one that encompasses the changing of the seasons and dry, weedy, fading floral aspects.

The blend of grapes is 45 percent ribolla gialla, 30 percent malvasia Istriana, 20 percent friulano (no longer called tocai friulano) and 5 percent picolit. The wine spends a short six months in oak, accounting for some of its firm structure and suppleness. About 1,500 cases are made. The wines of Vidussi are brought into the United States by Opici Imports, Glen Rock, N.J.

The price is about $23, a great bargain as far as I’m concerned for such a gorgeous, intriguing, complicated wine. which was, by the way, fabulous with the salmon.

On another subject, I just posted to KoeppelOnWine a page of “Refrigerator Door Wines,” eight bottles priced from $8 to $15, four white and four red. The whites are simple and direct and somewhat charming, being mainly decent quaffers for sitting around the porch or patio. The reds show more character, especially the Greg Norman Zinfandel 2005, Lake County, and the exotic Hecula 2004, from Yecla in Spain. After all, it won’t be too long before we start firing up those backyard grills and requiring some robust red wines to go with grilled meat.

Normally — it only makes sense — the “Case of New Releases” page on KoeppelOnWine.com consists of 12 wines, there being, traditionally, 12 bottles in a case of wine. Except that some wineries nowadays have screwed up the system by selling or marketing their wines — and these are always expensive products — in six-bottle “cases.” Thanks a lot. Anyway, the way I got ahead of myself was by arranging the wines I was going to review by wineries, four of them, all in California, and I realized that there were three groups of three and one group of four, and a quick hands-free calculation in the old noggin told me that those groups added up to 13. What was I going to do, kick a wine out for being the odd one?

No, I couldn’t do that, because I liked these wines very much, especially a couple of chardonnays from Morgan and three pinot noirs from Belle Glos — the Belle Glos Clark & Telegraph Pinot Noir 2006 is exceptional but not cheap — and that quartet of wines, three reds and a white, a splendid roussanne, from the highly individual producer, Renaissance Vineyard & Winery, in North Yuba. How individual is Renaissance? How about this? No new oak for red wines; alcohol levels below 14 percent; holding the top wines for years before release; giving wines real structures based on acid, tannin and fruit rather than plush, Barbie-doll textures. Unfortunately, Renaissance makes wines in very small quantities, usually no more than about 3,400 cases annually of all the types and varieties. Take a look, in any case. Click on the link in the first paragraph.

So here I am, blathering on — because I really want you to look at KoeppelOnWine, where I do most of the actual reviewing — but what I really want to say is that I’m sorry about the dearth of images on BTYH, the reason being that the monitor on my “official” computer died and I haven’t gotten a replacement yet, so I’ve been doing all the blog and website work on my laptop, which is fine, except that the image function of WordPress, which DID work perfectly until weekend before last, now, for some reason known to a billion 15-year-olds but not me, won’t work. I can post a post — ta-dah! — but I cannot upload (I hate that word) and send images to the editor thingie. It’s damned frustrating because I HATE seeing the blog without art. So, this weekend I’ll fork over the dough and get a new monitor for the “official” computer and then see about getting WordPress to work properly on the laptop.

Did I mention that I hate computers?

The current issue of the “Wine Spectator” — Jan. 31-Feb. 29, 2008 — helpfully recapitulates last year’s reviewing program by listing all the wines reviewed in 2007 by name, price and rating. The descriptions of the wines are omitted, but those tend to be pretty damned telegraphic anyway.

What’s interesting about the issue, though, is a section in which the Spectator’s writers and reviewers go country by country and region by region and reveal the average price of the wines in the different scoring categories. This is particularly important in the top scoring — let’s call it “iconic” — segment of wines rated 90 to 100 points of the WS 100-point scale.

Look for example at this breakdown for France:

Red Bordeaux: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $95.
Red Burgundy: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $116
White Burgundy: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $86.
Rhone Valley: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $72.
Loire Valley: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $32.
Alsace: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $73.
Champagne: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $92
Languedoc & Roussillon: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $35.
Other France: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $41.

Do I have to spell it out for you? B-U-Y L-O-I-R-E.

It’s also interesting that for California, the guide does not go through all the counties and regions and valleys in similar manner; that would take a book. Instead, the matter is arranged by grape. Here’s the sequence:

Cabernet sauvignon: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $103.
Chardonnay: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $48.
Pinot noir: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $52.
Syrah: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $47.
Zinfandel: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $32.
Merlot: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $52.
Sauvignon blanc: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $24.
Other grapes: Average price of wines scoring 90 to 100: $45.

Do I have to spell it out for you? B-U-Y S-A-U-V-I-G-N-O-N B-L-A-N-C A-N-D Z-I-N-F-A-N-D-E-L.

Now these figures do not take into account the rarity of certain wines, the prestige of properties and vineyards and other factors, but this much is clear: Of all the regions and countries mentioned in this exercise, only New Zealand comes in at a lower average price — $30 — of wines scoring 90 to 100 points than the Loire Valley. And much as the wines of New Zealand have improved in the past 10 or 15 years, they don’t represent nearly the diversity of grapes and styles that the Loire Valley does, from Sancerre and Pouilly-Fume in the east to Muscadet in the west, with Chinon and Anjou and Savennieres and Vouvray and Saumur and many other smaller appellations in between.

Perhaps 2008 should be the Year of the Loire, and we should spend the next 10 months exploring its varied treasures.

Alternatively, it seems like a good time to fill the spaces in your wine rack or the boxes in your closet with sauvignon blanc and zinfandel wines from California, experimenting with different regions, vineyards and labels. There would be worst ways to spend the rest of the year.

If you’re like us, here toward the end of January, you’re cooking full-flavored, hearty dishes to combat the chill creeping into your bones. As Ezra Pound wrote, “Winter is a-coming in, lude sing goddamn!” Damn right, Ezra! A couple of nights ago, we concocted a vat of white bean, sausage and escarole soup that will sustain us over several meals. We recently made Michel Richard’s potato stew with black olives, onions, mushrooms and slab bacon; talk about stomach-filling and soul-satisfying! Perhaps you’re braising short ribs or veal shanks or assembling stick-to-the-ribs beef or lamb stew.

In any case, at KoeppelOnWine, I posted a page with a raft (i.e., a dozen) big-hearted red wines from California that will belly up to your mid-winter dinners and match them with warmth, grit and vigor. These include four old-fashioned blockbuster zinfandel wines from Mazzocco, four of Ed Sbragia’s single-vineyard cabernet sauvignon wines from his Sbragia Family Vineyards and — let’s say it — a truly great zinfandel, balanced and powerful and elegant, from Rubicon Estate, the Edizione Pennino 2005.

By the way, I had a difficult time finding slab bacon at my local grocery stores. In one, for example, there was “slab” bacon in the case, but it was sliced. I asked one of the butchers if he had slab bacon and he said, “Sure,” and took me to the case where the sliced “slab” bacon was. And I said, “But that’s sliced. If it’s sliced, it’s not in a slab anymore.” He looked at me as if he had just seen rat droppings around the meat slicer. “That’s what we got,” he said. Do we actually live in a world where there’s no respect for language and common sense? Or is my life a complete fantasy?