Pretty Flighty

When friends of ours — dedicated and robust red wine drinkers — dropped by last weekend, here’s what I had on hand:

A $100 Hartwell Stags Leap District Cabernet Sauvignon (2002) that someone had given me as a gift [because believe me, this is not in my keep-it-around-the-house price range]. A Chilean Merlot from Casa La Joya (2006) which retails for around $15. And Our Daily Red, an organic, sulfite-free California table wine (2006) I picked up for $7.99.

An odd flight, I give you that. We started with Hartwell, on the theory that it was important to drink the most expensive wine while our palates were fresh.

"Nice legs," our friend, Mitch, said. And yes, this Cab had nearly perfect form — like an ice dancer who routinely earns a 9.9. It was as smooth a California vintage as has ever passed my lips, with rich fruit (blackberry, cherry, blueberry, and currant) and a finish that I have to say was almost TOO clean. This was much like drinking a 20-year single malt Scotch or eating a single perfect mono-flavored truffle. In other words, not quite satisying. Maybe it’s just me, but I like some drama in my food, wine, and. . . .well, other hedonistic endeavors. You know, a few ragged edges here and there.

I brought out some cheese, crackers, a little smoked fish. Then we opened the Chilean Merlot. Call me common, call me what you will. But this was more like it: Che on his motorcycle, riding the coast against a stiff wind. This wine was juicy and brash and a little dry. And it turns out I’m not so pedestrian as all that. . . .the reserve La Joya (think of it as the older, more refined cousin of the one we drank) won "best Merlot in the world" at the 2002 international wine and spirit competition.

We sat at the table for a couple hours. Dark fell. Teenagers (our own and others) stopped in to talk; somewhere along the line my husband put on an Annie Lennox CD. Around the time my daughter brought the leftover Thanksgiving desserts out on a tray, we uncorked Our Daily Red.

Now I was pretty mellow by this point. Great friends, good food, children milling and laughing in the background. Perhaps this had an effect. But when I took a sip of this $8 wine, I was amazed at how decent it was. A blend of Syrah, Carignan, and Cabernet, it was simple and fruity with a little acidic kick.

I certainly wouldn’t make a habit of drinking ODR — and after half a glass, I detected a very faintly dirty taste that I didn’t exactly love. I am, however, all in favor of the idea that everyday table wines should be affordable and approachable and good companions, if you will. Rather than requiring attention or being the star, this sort of wine will let you focus on what’s important: the people at the table, the music in the air, and the group of wonderfully raucous kids in the next room.