Wine lovers rejecting Bordeaux is akin to Americans hating on George Washington. It’s an integral part of wine’s history, its mystique, and its hold on our imaginations. Plus a lot of it tastes really, really good.

Wherein I get back on the STBNY horse with some robust reds from Michel Chapoutier.

The one word that could make me give up my pregnancy-induced sabbatical? Champagne.

I’ve been pretty pressed for time these days, which is one reason why I’m delighted to kill two birds with one stone in this post: supporting one of my favorite wine peeps and offering all you lovely STBNY readers a nice deal.

As my regular STBNY readers (all 4 of you!) know, I’m a Francophile. To paraphrase Chico Escuela, France has been bery bery good to me.

When a friend suggested I write more about wine labels on STBNY, I immediately thought of Michel Chapoutier. What sets Chapoutier’s labels apart is not their look (elegant fonts, neutral colors, classic crests) but their feel.

My dear friend Gary was clearing out his boss’ office and came across a bottle of wine. Would I, he wanted to know, be interested in trying it? You bet I would.

There’s obscure, and then there’s obscure.

I’m about to turn 37 (yikes), and the older I get, the less tolerance I have for bullshit — especially when it comes to restaurants. I was really looking forward to our trip to France as a return to restaurant sanity.

I’m just back from my trip to Bandol, which was really spectacular. Many more posts to come, including my first attempts at video, but first I had to share some thoughts about French wine tasting.