By Josh Perilo

I left the house on Tuesday to move my car and I wasn’t wearing a coat.
Yes, this is the wine column, but I felt that sentence needed to be said. It’s both thrillingly amazing (considering the snow spanking we got last year) and very, very scary. By the way, thanks, Al Gore! I still have trouble sleeping whenever it’s unseasonably warm.

But let’s focus on the positive, which is that this weather is kicking some serious butt! Winter is usually the time when I stock up on heavy reds like Cali cabs, those amped up, high-alcohol shirazes from Western Australia and big, earthy tannin monsters from northern Italy. This year, however, those wines just seem out of place and a bit smothering.

So instead I’ve been turning to wines I usually don’t give a second glance until April or May. It’s allowed me to go back and reconsider some selections that I’ve never tried or completely forgotten, which is how I ran into my long lost friend torrontes.

Torrontes is a grape that is indigenous to Argentina. It is also, sadly, a varietal that rings few bells with the vast majority of United States wine drinkers. That’s unfortunate, because these are some of the best bang-for-your-buck white wines from anywhere. It’s also strange, because torrontes is the most produced white wine in Argentina. The typical flavor profile is fruit-forward and light- to medium-bodied with citrus and apple notes, but as you’ll see from my selections, there are a number of ways the profile for this versatile grape can go.

So, allow me to take you by the hand and lead you through the delicious and inexpensive field of Argentinean torrontes.
If you haven’t tried torrontes before, a great one to start with is the Bodegas Callia Torrontes Tulum Valley Alta 2010 ($9.45 at Morrell and Company, 1 Rockefeller Plz., 48th St. & 5th Ave., 212-688-9370). This is a simple, pared-down, refreshingly delicious wine that will kick the door open for those who are new to the grape. On the nose, there’s a good amount of fresh orange zest. The citrus flavors continue on the palate with riper tangerine notes up front. The middle becomes sparer and more herbal with notes of chervil, and the finish has a clean, bright minerality.

For a torrontes that stays simple but has a little more body to it, look no further than Bodega Monteviejo Torrontes Argentina Festivo 2010 ($13 at Yorkshire Wines and Spirits, 1646 1st Ave. at 85th St., 212-717-5100)—it takes the basic profile of torrontes and kicks up the intensity several notches. Scents of intense wildflowers waft from the glass.

Honeysuckle and orchid are the main event. On the palate, though, it’s all about tropical fruit and melon; lots of mango up front with notes of honeydew through the middle and a dollop of lychee on the finish.

Taking the intensity and dialing it up even more, the Bodegas y Vinedos La Esperanza Torrontes Cafayate Menduco Reserve 2010 ($12.75 at Garnet Wines and Liquors, 929 Lexington Ave., betw. 68th & 69th Sts., 212-772-3211) is possibly the spiciest torrontes I’ve ever tried. Right out of the bottle and into the glass the wine smells simpler than it tastes, with scents of pear and orange peel. Up front on the palate, however, there’s a good amount of white pepper and starfruit. This leads to a mid with white peach and ripe orange flavors. The finish is full and floral with magnolia blossom and papaya notes. This is the Torrontes to pair with a spicy Pad Thai.

And for those who love the classic flavors of French, old-world-style white wines, try the Bodegas y Vinedos La Esperanza Torrontes Cafayate Valley Finca El Origen Reserve 2010 ($12 at Garnet Wines and Liquors). This wine has all the telltale scents and flavors of a lean and racy Chablis; wet granite is the main event on the nose. The palate continues the minerality throughout with green apple, pear and lemon zest on the finish.

So don’t be afraid to go light this winter. Think of it as a preview of our (hopefully) beautiful spring!

Follow Josh on Twitter: @joshperilo.

By Josh Perilo

“What on earth are you drinking out of?” I gasped.

My good friend Aaron froze mid-pour as he stared down at the bottle of burgundy in his hand, then at the plastic, fake bejeweled chalice that he was pouring the burgundy into. His face registered no shame whatsoever.

“This is my sippin’ chalice,” he said dryly. “It’s how I get my drank on.”

I tried to reason with him as I brought out glass after glass to demonstrate why his strange, Lil Jon-esque sippie cup wasn’t the prime choice for the beverage du jour. He listened politely to my educated diatribe, then, when I had finished, stared at me blankly again and tipped back his cup for an enormous gulp.

“Still tastes like wine to me.”

Touché, Aaron. Indeed it does. And, by all means, my rule of thumb with wine glasses (as with wine in general) is: Drink what you like out of what you like. That being said, there are definitely types of glasses that can enhance your drinking experience.

Buyer beware, however! There are plenty of flourishes and design elements added to a lot of high-priced wine glasses that not only do nothing to add to the enjoyment of your wine but can actually take away from the overall experience.

Today, I’m going to walk you through some of the do’s and don’ts when it comes to buying your next set of wine glasses.
Do buy cut-glass-lipped wine glasses. The glass on these vessels tends to feel much thinner, and sometimes consumers misinterpret that as cheapness. It is not! A good glass does as little as possible to get in the way of the wine—one way that is done is by using a very thin glass construction, and the other is to design the lip of the glass (from which you actually sip) as cut glass. This gives the liquid as little barrier as possible to pass from inside the glass to your palate. There’s also less spillage than with traditional rolled-lip wine glasses.

Don’t buy crystal. Yes, it is beautiful. Yes, it is a great investment and a fantastic hand-me-down to be cherished from generation to generation. It is not, however, a great material for making an effective wine glass; it can’t be blown into the most effective shapes to enhance wine’s taste and scent, in addition to the fact that it is always thick and heavy. Save the crystal for the holiday punch.

Do buy those glasses with the enormous bowls. They may seem ostentatious, but there’s a reason for their size. Red wine glasses tend to have slightly larger bowls than those for white wine, but they serve the same basic purpose. Because half of taste is actually smell, to accurately capture and concentrate the complex scents of your wine, a good glass will have a bowl that is large at the bottom and tapered at the top. When the wine is swirled in the glass, the aromas are released into the bowl and then trapped by the narrower opening. When you stick your nose into the glass for a hearty whiff, you experience the concentrated notes of the wine you are about to enjoy.

Don’t buy colored glass. This seems harmless, especially given how beautiful some of these glasses can be. But if you think about it, part of the enjoyment (and in professional wine circles, part of the judgment of the quality) of wine is its color and visible body. This is obviously impossible to judge through a red, blue or otherwise tinted glass.

Do buy glasses with stems. I may receive some flack for this, but I am a traditionalist and truly believe that the best glasses are those with stems. Holding the glass by the bowl changes the temperature of the liquid you are drinking. And if you put a lot of effort into serving your wines at the correct temperature, this can throw a wrench in all that great planning.

Of course, you can always take a tip from Aaron and go “chalice style.” Up to you!

Follow Josh on Twitter: @joshperilo.

By Linnea Covington

The first time I traveled to Chennai, India, my uncle-by-marriage swore the best cup of coffee could be found at Saravanaa Bhavan, a restaurant specializing in classic South Indian vegetarian fare. Naturally, we had to try it.

As they served us metal bowls containing tiny metal cups filled with steaming, light brown liquid, my Americanized coffee snobbery blossomed. Visions of glorious pounds of fresh roasted beans and hot mugs of black-as-night coffee and a general distaste for the world of sweet coffeeshop chains flitted by, but with a single sip, those recollections faded. The coffee was at once creamy, sweetish and comforting, with bold coffee back notes—indeed, the finest I tried in the whole country.

Imagine my joy to find the same coffee being served at Saravanaa Bhavan’s New York locations, now two since one opened on the Upper West Side. The original shop opened 30 years ago in Chennai, but it wasn’t until 2002 that they made their United States debut in California before coming to New York’s Curry Hill in 2005.

The best part about the expansion is that the restaurants not only bring an authentic taste of South Indian fare, they remain consistent throughout all their locations, a far cry from McDonald’s ever-changing menu dependent upon the country. The food they serve also proves healthy, flavorful, fresh and delightfully authentic.

I have now eaten at four of their locations: the original, a New Delhi shop and the two in New York. Each one is identical in food, save for the addition of a tandoori oven and vegetarian curries at the uptown restaurant. Their decision to add dishes including the savory, slightly spicy aloo gobi (cauliflower and potato), rib-sticking mutter paneer (green peas and cottage cheese) and sweetly caramelized dal butter fry (butter-fried onion, tomatoes and lentil), was made in an attempt to speak to the neighborhood, the manager said. A good call, given the demographics of the Upper West Side and the general acceptance people give to curry.

While the foundation remains the same, the dosa at Saravanaa Bhavan are something else entirely. Some, like the paper dosa, measure over a foot long and most 10-year-old children could comfortably put an arm through it. The ghee masala dosa also boasts this unique shape; inside is a layer of scrumptious potatoes and onions sprinkled with ghee, also known as clarified butter. The dosa breaks off like a cracker in some spots and you can dip it into an array of chutneys including coconut, coriander-coconut, tomato and a sauce called sambar (a vegetable stew flavored with tamarind).

Other classic south Indian dishes offered are the spongy idly, a little rice cake that proves especially fun to eat in a bowl of sambar, and vada, their version of a doughnut made with lentils instead of sugar. The tandoori oven has done the newest location well too, as the buttery garlic naan and tandoor roti come out fluffy, piping hot and perfectly cooked.

Another difference the Upper West Side location sports comes out in the setting. At the newest shop, the dim lights add a more romantic atmosphere and a coziness fitting for the neighborhood. It still gets busy, but the intimate space doesn’t have the capacity for bustle (though the dishes do come out quickly). Overall, for someone looking to try a cuisine different from the basic American perception of what Indian food consists of, Saravanaa Bhavan is the real deal.

By Josh Perilo

I had been sorely missing my good, angry friend Jesse since he and his wife moved to Los Angeles. I knew that I could always rely on him for a good fight or two about everything from the meaningless to the epic. Now, my sparring partner was gone.

Then I received a text last week:

“Val and I have reservations at one of L.A.’s best Italian joints. I’ve emailed you the wine list. Pick me something sick but not obvious. Don’t disappoint.”

I immediately dropped what I was doing and took up the case at hand. By God, I was going to find him the greatest, least expected, most diamond-in-the-rough bottle of wine on the list. The kind of wine list pick that makes the sommelier smile and think, “Ah, they’ve found it. I buried it beneath all of the obvious choices, but these two get it.”
It was an exhaustive list. It took me 40 minutes to just skim through it once. There were the obvious contenders that I had to knock from the list right away. No barolos. No brunellos. I had to surprise them. Recommending a barolo is like telling a cook, “Hey, butter might work well in that dish.” I had to dig deep.

Then it called to me. From page 42, it sang out, “How could you forget us?”; the wonderful, underrated, and always reliable Valpolicella.

Valpolicella comes from the northeastern area of Italy known as the Veneto. Some oenophiles look at Valpolicella as the younger, less accomplished brother of amarone (which hails from the same area), but I think it has a distinction all its own.

While amarone is made from dried grapes in order to add a port-like quality to the wine, Valpolicella is made naturally. And if you can find a Valpolicella ripasso, you can get the best of both worlds. In these, the unused skins from amarone production are added to the Valpolicella fermentation process. This adds tannin and gives the alcohol content a slight kick, which also helps bolster the body of the wine.

I recommended several Valpolicellas to Jesse and Val, and he sent back his sign of approval: “Niiiice! Good call on the V-Po. I’ll return with a full report.”

So today, I will recommend a few Valpolicellas that are available locally so you can experience the delicious northern Italian superstar yourselves.

The Michele Castellani Valpolicella Classico Superiore I Castei Costamaran Ripasso 2009 ($19.99 at Morrell and Company, 1 Rockefeller Plz. betw. 48th & 49th Sts., 212-688-9370) is a great example of a Valpolicella that gives the drinker exactly what they should expect from a solid, mid-priced ripasso. The body is visibly more viscous and the coloring is a deep, plummy purple. On the nose there is a massive amount of roasted spice and pipe smoke. The palate has big, attention-grabbing notes of anise and clove up front but mellows to a baked blackberry finish.

For something a little lighter on the palate (and even on the pocketbook) try the Tedeschi Valpolicella Classico Lucchine 2009 ($15.99 at 67 Wine and Spirits, 179 Columbus Ave. at 68th St., 212-724-6767). This one is not a ripasso, so it doesn’t have the unctuousness of its more expensive brethren, but for the price this is absolutely the best bang for your buck. There are lots of red berry scents accompanied by hints of cedar right out of the bottle. The palate is simple but bold. There’s more red berry fruit up front, with baked raspberry. A good, hearty, tannic middle gives way to a long finish of coffee and cocoa dust.

For a Valpolicella that fires on all cylinders, however, look no further than the Musella Valpolicella Superiore Vigne Nuove 2009 ($20 at Yorkshire Wines and Spirits, 1646 1st Ave. at 85th St., 212-717-5100). “Superiore” indicates that this is a ripasso as well, and it sure behaves like one. Wet earth and burning leaves are the main events in the olfactory department. While there is some baked cherry fruit up front, this is a monster that rips through, front to back, leaving notes of Earl Grey tea, licorice and tar in its wake. A powerhouse wine.

By Josh Perilo

No disrespect to my wonderful, sweet mother, but my passion for cooking did not come from her. No, I would describe my mother’s relationship with cooking more like a daily wrestling match in which she choke-slammed it into submission. With five kids (four of them boys), there was little room for creativity or improvisation—it was all about what would fill us up as quickly as possible while still trying to stay somewhat healthy (although I’ll never forgive her for the canned green beans).

Apricot Bundt Cake

It was on my once-a-year, week-long trips to my grandmother’s house in Kansas City that I became obsessed with cooking, because my grandmother was the single greatest cook I have ever known. Everything she made was unbelievable. When most boys might beg for their grandparents to take them to a Royals game or visit the awesome train museum, I would arrive in KC with a shopping list—an actual shopping list for groceries, because I was there to learn from the master, as far as I was concerned.

And we made everything. Triple-layer chocolate cheesecake. Sauerkraut-braised pheasant. Chicken gumbo. It gave me the confidence, later in life, to experiment. To not be afraid to try something new. To know that the right way to make something is to do it all yourself, from absolute scratch.

Or so I thought.

After my grandmother passed away three years ago, I was entrusted with one of the most coveted items in her home: her recipe box. It was given to me on the condition that I was responsible for compiling all of the recipes into book form to give to our relatives. Well, it’s going to be quite a while before I have that kind of time on my hands (sorry, Aunt Sheryl!), but I have begun to go back to the box for reference and inspiration. In doing so, I’ve made a startling discovery.

My grandmother did not cook from scratch! With the exception of a handful of signature recipes, almost every single dish on those cards had some kind of “helper” ingredient, like cake mix, French onion soup packets or Bisquick. There was even a recipe for something called “Pork Risotto” to be made with Minute Rice.

Am I a snob for being taken aback by this discovery? Yes. Are these recipes probably all wonderful? Of course.

Maybe this was my grandmother’s way to humble me from beyond the grave with a little “don’t get too big for your britches, Jean-Georges.” So, to honor my grandmother, I’d like to pass on a couple of her not-from-scratch recipes that are just as authentic as if they were, and are guaranteed delicious.

Apricot Bundt Cake 

Drain 1 (17-oz.) can of apricots, saving the liquid in a large mixing bowl. Cut the apricots into quarters and add to the bowl. Add 1 package of lemon cake mix and 2 large eggs. Blend with a mixer on medium speed for three to four minutes, at least. Pour into a very well-greased bundt pan. Bake at 325 degrees for 55 to 60 minutes. After removing from the oven, let cool for 15 to 20 minutes. For the frosting, bring 1 cup of orange juice in a saucepan to a simmer. Add 1 cup of powdered sugar, 2 tablespoons of butter and the grated peel of 1 orange. Mix until combined. Let cool slightly, but frost while still warm.

Country-Fried Pork Chops

In a large skillet, brown four small pork chops over medium to medium-high heat in a tablespoon of vegetable oil. Add 1 (2-oz.) can of sliced mushrooms, one can of cream of celery soup, 1/2 cup of water, 1/4 teaspoon of dried thyme, 6 pearl onions and 1 cup of sliced carrots. Cover, reduce heat and let simmer for 45 minutes. Serve with noodles.

Potato Bake

Mix together 1 (16-oz.) package of frozen hash browns, 2 cans cream of chicken soup, 16 ounces of sour cream, 2 tablespoons of chopped onion and 5 ounces of grated cheddar cheese in a casserole dish. Bake at 350 degrees for 50 minutes. Serve hot.

By Josh Perilo

When most people think of New Year’s Eve, they conjure up images of chugging cheap, fizzy alcohol straight from the bottle while wearing glasses in the shape of the New Year’s number. I, on the other hand, have a much more romanticized dream of what New Year’s Eve could be: Ladies in long gloves sipping on Krug in bowl-shaped glasses (true, while Marie Antoinette glasses aren’t as good for holding the effervescence of Champagne, they look damn sexy) and gentlemen in tuxedos smoking cigarettes in holders, sipping on arcane cocktails made with muddled whatnots and long-ago-produced bitters and extracts.

After talking to my friend Jesse, who gave me the idea for last year’s New Year’s Eve column, I was inspired again to delve into the concept of the holiday cocktail. This time, with a twist.

“I’m making homemade bitters,” Jesse explained to me, “because I have these cocktail books from 50 years ago calling for ingredients that don’t exist anymore…”

“So,” I said, finishing his sentence, “you’re making them yourself!”

“Exactly!”

While I’m in no mood to gather up all of the goods and equipment needed to concoct a batch of early 20th-century-style Seville orange rind bitters, the conversation did send me to my own personal collection of vintage and antique cookbooks. My mission: Find a handful of extremely dated but fun looking cocktails to make and serve at this year’s round of holiday parties.

The field was wide, but I narrowed it down to a motley crew of four. So if you’re feeling nostalgic (and maybe a little brave) I invite you to try some of these antiquated cocktails from years gone by with your New Year’s Eve crowd!

Gourmet’s Champagne Punch: From the 1957 edition of The Gourmet Cookbook, Volume II. Peel, core and slice three small, ripe pineapples. Put the slices in a bowl and sprinkle them with 2 cups of fine granulated sugar. Cover, allow the fruit to marinate for one hour or more, then add 2 cups of Cognac, 1 cup strained lemon juice, 3/4 cup eau de vie de framboise [substitute Chambord if you can’t find framboise], 1/2 cup peach brandy and 1/4 cup maraschino liqueur. Blend gently, cover and allow to stand overnight to ripen. To serve, pour over a large block of ice in a punch bowl and slowly add five bottles of chilled Champagne. Garnish the bowl with fresh raspberries, sprigs of fresh mint, thinly sliced lemons and oranges and other fruit to taste.

Peach Cup: From the 1945 edition of Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook. Peel and slice 6 ripe peaches into a small bowl. Sprinkle the fruit with 1 cup of granulated sugar and add 325mL of German riesling. Cover and let the fruit marinate in the wine overnight. To serve, add several pieces of peach to each goblet along with a tablespoon or two of the marinating liquid. Top off each goblet with more of the same chilled Riesling. Garnish with a raspberry.

Zombie: From the 1950 edition of The Old Mr. Boston Official Bartender’s Guide. Fill a mixing glass halfway with ice and add 1 jigger each of Jamaican rum, Puerto Rican golden rum, white rum, pineapple juice and papaya juice. Add the juice of 1 lime and 1 teaspoon of simple syrup [equal parts sugar and water heated on the stove until the sugar is dissolved]. Shake vigorously and pour with the ice into a highball glass. Garnish with a pineapple stick, a cherry float and a paper umbrella.

Tom and Jerry: From the 1966 edition of Woman’s Day Encyclopedia of Cookery. For each drink, beat 1 egg yolk until it is pale and light. Add 1 teaspoon maple syrup, 1/2 teaspoon allspice and 1 jigger light rum and beat the mixture until it is smooth and thick. Blend in 1 stiffly beaten egg white and 1/2 jigger of brandy. Pour the mixture into a warmed Tom and Jerry mug [no clues about what this might be—use whatever mug you’d like], fill with hot milk or boiling water and sprinkle generously with grated nutmeg.
Happy New Year!

By Josh Perilo

“Is this the third time I’ve worn this suit this week?” I said as I turned to Natali, straightening my tie.

“Yeah,” she said, pulling up her tights, “but you haven’t done that tie and shirt combo yet. You should be okay.”

If the number of holiday parties that my wife and I have gone to this year are any kind of economic indicator, then the good old U.S. of A. should do just fine in the next fiscal year. Or maybe people are throwing more parties instead of going away for the holidays in order to save money. In any event, the party express is rocketing down the rails this season, which can only lead to one central conundrum: To gift or not to gift?

I am a firm believer in always, always, always bringing something for the party’s host, even if it’s something small. And I love the idea of bringing something that can help out the party that night. No host will ever be upset at you for bringing a bottle of vino (unless they’re sober, of course)—but why bring the ordinary when you can bring the interesting and extraordinary?

I’m talking bubbles. But I’m not just talking about your typical, run-of-the-mill, yellow-label drivel. There are a number of out-of-the ordinary sparkling wines on the market that are not only delicious but will be sure to make your beverage the most talked-about bottle at the brew-ha-ha.

One of my very favorite beverages on the planet is brachetto d’acqui. This is an unusual, slightly fizzy red dessert wine that hails from Piemonte, the same region of northern Italy that produces barolo and barbera. Unlike its bold, dry and tannic cousins, however, brachetto d’acqui is sweet, fruity and full of fizz. Meant to be drunk slightly chilled (think the same temperature at which you would serve a full-bodied Chardonnay), this is the absolute greatest paring for dark chocolate this side of a vintage port.

The Marenco Brachetto d’Acqui ($14.99 at Mister Wright Fine Wines and Spirits, 1593 3rd Ave. at 90th St., 212-722-4564) is a great example of everything this wine can be. Cherry preserves on the nose lead to a bright, intense front of palate, with strawberry jam and candied orange. The finish gets darker with raspberry and vanilla notes.

Travelling a little farther south and east in Italy, the area of Emilia-Romagna is the home of one of the most undeservedly maligned sparkling wines on the planet: lambrusco. In the 1970s, the Riunite wine company made lambrusco a running joke in the wine world, importing a product that had little to do with any serious lambrusco available in Italy. Things are very different now, however, with many high-quality lambruscos available on the U.S. market.

The Lini 910 Labrusa Lambrusco Rosso ($13.99 at Garnet Wines and Liquors, 929 Lexington Ave. betw. 68th and 69th Sts., 212-772-3212) fits the bill and then some. The smells of candied apple and new leather waft from the glass. For those expecting a sweet beverage, however, beware! Most serious lambruscos are not sweet, and this one is no exception. Plenty of black cherry fruit starts out the palate up front, but there are also notes of black olive, rose petal and cedar on the finish.

Then there’s the strange, sweet and fruity sparkler from the Rhone Valley known as Clairette de Die. Thought to be one of the oldest continuously made sparkling wines on the planet, this wine predates Champagne by between 500 to 1,000 years, depending on which source you reference. No matter how old the technique is, the finished product is delicious.

A tasty example is the Jaillance Clairette de Die ($16.99 at Chelsea Wine Vault in Chelsea Market, 79 9th Ave. betw. 15th and 16th Sts., 212-462-4244). Giving up frothy lemon curd and violet petal scents on the nose, the palate is rich and sweet. Honey and orange up front give way to wildflowers in the middle and a tangy finish with a touch of white pepper.

So don’t show up to your next holiday party empty-handed. Bring a gift that’ll keep them talking while they’re drinking.

Follow Josh on Twitter: @joshperilo.

By Josh Perilo

From the moment I smell turkey in the oven to the seconds before the ball drops in Times Square, I rejoice in the same holiday gift every year: a bevy of “best of” lists. Top TV shows, top movies, top albums…it is my No. 1 annual guilty pleasure.The fact that I have my own column allows me the luxury of publishing my own best of list. I had so much fun doing it last year that I’ve decided to do it again this year. So, without further ado, I would like to present the 2011 Penniless Picks:

5. Kicking off the list is the unusual, inexpensive and delicious Batasiolo Moscato Rose ($15.99 at 67 Wine and Spirits, 179 Columbus Ave. at 68th St., 212-724-6767). Starting with a salmon-hued mousse, the glass immediately gives up a massive amount of candied apple and rose petal scents with a floral note in the background. The palate on this dessert wine is intense. Equal parts sweet and tart come on strong, with a wallop of orange marmalade up front. The flavor morphs mid-palate to butterscotch, and the finish, which is long and solid, also provides a hint of rose candy. This is one of the best Moscato d’Asti’s I’ve tried in a long time.

4. I am not, traditionally, a fan of fume-style sauvignon blancs. That’s why I’ve put Groth Vineyards Napa Valley Sauvignon Blanc 2010 ($18.99 at Sherry-Lehmann Wine and Spirits, 505 Park Ave. at 59th St., 212-838-7500) on this list. It completely changed my mind about what a sauv blanc that has spent time in oak should taste like. The flavor profile is luxurious and super round thanks to the wine aging on its lees. This gives it a soft texture but doesn’t rob the wine of its acidity. It’s like biting into a fresh apricot.

3. This was not a banner year for pinot noir tastings, personally speaking. That being said, Siduri “Van Der Kamp” Pinot Noir 2009 ($36 at Sussex Wines and Spirits, 300 W. 42nd St. at 2nd Ave., 212-867-5838) is easily one of the best wines I’ve tasted all year, let alone the best pinot noir. This wine is a powerhouse. Showing the use of oak, but not in an overpowering way, there is star anise, rosewood, coffee and vanilla on the nose. The palate gives up a ton of candied cherry right up front, then becomes spicier in the middle and finishes with notes of tobacco and wet earth. An absolutely dynamite wine.

2. Putting a barolo on a best of list almost seems like a no-brainer, but the Elio Grasso Barolo Runcot 2004 ($130.69 at Morrell and Company, 1 Rockefeller Plz., 212-688-9370) is no typical barolo. The nose is compact and sweet with cedar, pine and other sweet wood scents. The palate starts with flavor notes of caramelized sugar, which morph into molasses and baked fig. The tannins balance the fruit flavors, along with a pleasant, espresso-like bitterness. The finish is stoic. An absolute masterpiece.

1. The No. 1 spot goes to an obscure dessert wine from Hungary. That’s right. A Hungarian dessert wine. The type of wine is called Tokaji (pronounced Toe-Keye) and it has a 500-year-old tradition. Throughout my career I have tasted and enjoyed many, but the Royal Tokaji 2000 Betsek First Growth, 6 Puttonyos ($88.95 at Sherry-Lehmann Wine and Spirits, 212-838-7500) left me speechless. There was butterscotch, hazelnut, honey roasted almonds and candied orange on the nose. A bright acidity underpinned the heady and rich notes of caramel, tea, blanched almond and cinnamon on the finish. This is, quite simply, one of the greatest things I have ever tasted.

Special Mention must go to the Pinot Bianco Alois Lageder 2009 ($12.99 at Garnet Wines, 929 Lexington Ave., betw. 68th & 69th Sts., 212-772-3212) from the northern Italian province of Trentino-Alto Adige. There were white peach and wet stone scents on the nose, with palate notes of lemon zest, white pepper and edamame. From a producer who makes consistently thrilling white wines, year in and year out, count this one as another “W” for Alois Lageder.

By: Josh Perilo

My wife and I had just finished watching the Orson Welles classic The Third Man. The credits were rolling and my head was swimming—not only from the brilliant piece of cinema I had just seen but from the man, Welles himself, and what would eventually become of him.“It’s just insane,” I said, shaking my head, “that that man ended up in those Paul Masson ads!”

“What Paul Masson ads?” my wife asked.

I gasped and immediately grabbed my computer, steering us straight to YouTube. We sat there and watched five full minutes of poor, old, fat Orson garbling his lines and teetering precariously. I stifled laughter, but Natali just frowned and shook her head.

“This isn’t funny. This is so, so sad.”

I stopped laughing. She was right. It was sad. And it was sad, in large part, because it was so clichéd. A successful giant in his field—in this case film—has a fall from grace and, years later, is reduced to selling his reputation in order to keep his coffers full.

Wine, in particular, has become the go-to product for many of Hollywood’s has-beens, which seems counterintuitive if you know anything about the wine business. That is to say, it’s very difficult to make any money in it. But this hasn’t stopped a myriad of huge names in the entertainment industry from making it their second source of income.

That’s all well and fine. But is the wine any good? I tried a couple of these “celebrity wines” to find out.

The highest-profile and most venerable celebrity wine brand is Francis Ford Coppola’s. He has actually been in the wine business almost as long as he’s been in the movie business, and the overall quality and variety of his wines speak to that.

Tasting the Coppola Claret 2009 ($16.95 at Sherry-Lehman Wine and Spirits, 505 Park Ave. at 60th St., 212-838-9285), it’s easy to see how this “side project” has actually financed his last several films. A true claret in that it is a blend of the traditional grapes found in Bordeaux (81 percent cabernet sauvignon, 9 percent petit verdot, 5 percent malbec, 3 percent merlot and 2 percent cabernet franc), this wine is pure California. With dark, baked cherry tart on the nose, wafts of split vanilla bean and a hint of cedar chest, it only gets richer on the palate. Plum notes up front give way to pipe smoke in the middle with a strong, tannic backbone. A touch of acidity and a tiny bit of black pepper round out the finish.

Dan Aykroyd’s collaboration with DeLoach Vineyards, on the other hand, leans much further into Orson Welles territory. The promotional video for these wines, which can be found on YouTube, is more depressing to watch than the Paul Masson outtakes. This is partially because there’s no separation of time. With Welles, you can look at it as an artifact of a bygone era, but Aykroyd looks like he taped these last week. The main reason it’s so sad, however, is because he comes across as incredibly desperate. And it isn’t even a very good video!

The French winemaker interviewing Aykroyd gets several basic facts about winemaking wrong, including the definition of malolactic fermentation.

What about the wine, you ask? It’s about as good as one would assume it might be: not very. The Dan Aykroyd Discovery Series Chardonnay 2007 ($22.99 at Columbus Wines, 730 Columbus Ave. at 96th St., 212-865-7070) starts on the nose with the ominous scents of wet particleboard and buttery popcorn. On the palate, the oakiness of the wine remains completely disconnected from any other flavor component. There’s a heavy-handed buttery quality and some candied pineapple, but the aggressive smokiness of the over-extracted oak makes the whole thing nearly undrinkable.

While not great, the Dan Aykroyd Discovery Series Cabernet Sauvignon 2007 ($22.99, also at Columbus Wines) has a bit more finesse and structure. Overly toasted oak on the nose gives way to mild red fruit flavors and a short but inoffensive finish.

I kept thinking, “What would John Belushi say about this?” Probably something along the lines of, “You shoulda stuck to beer, Elwood.”

By Regan Hofmann

Hit the gift shop, skip the restaurant.

Unless you’re part of a tour group, hypoglycemic or having a day out with your nana, this has always been the accepted wisdom for museum visits. If you happen to be an unlucky member of one of these groups, you can look forward to a selection of dry sandwiches, a steam-table entrée and a sweaty, pre-cut cheese plate. The best to be hoped for is a tolerable wine to drown your sorrows and some art to remind you of the reason you’re there.

In recent years, Danny Meyer, the prolific and preternaturally successful restaurateur (so uniquely prodigious, in fact, that Eater.com now hands out a “Danny Meyer Empire Builder of the Year” award) has been fighting the good fight against this institutional ignominy.

He first tackled MoMA, opening The Modern, a mannered, genteel restaurant accessible from the museum via a corridor or by its own street-facing entrance. You might stop in there for lunch after getting your fill of de Kooning’s women, but you’d check to make sure you were well-dressed first. Nearer to the galleries are two additional cafés that, while offering genuinely edible food, have the quick-stop, your-tour-bus-is-waiting feeling of museum cafés everywhere.

Photo by Nicole Franzen

Now there is Untitled at the Whitney, which successfully blends the two approaches to provide a dining experience that could easily succeed on its own merits set squarely inside a museum. To achieve this, Meyer called Gramercy Tavern executive sous chef Chris Bradley up to the big leagues and tasked him with creating two separate menus: casual classics for the museum crowd and interesting New American for weekend dinners.

Daytime gives us a take on New York diner culture, all-day breakfast and lunch featuring pancakes and eggs, sandwiches and salads. Every dish is carefully considered, and nothing is offered out of obligation—unlike your corner coffee shop, of whose sprawling menu maybe one-third is worth ordering. With a smaller kitchen, the restaurant outsources many of its baking duties to partners like Balthazar Bakery and Four and Twenty Blackbirds to great effect. But there’s plenty that is unexpectedly housemade—like the sausage and pastrami—all of which is spot-on.

At night, the three-course, prix fixe menu is short and sweet, changing weekly to keep things seasonal, fresh and playful. Each course has just two or three options, and common side dishes are brought out with the entrées. These assimilate to varying degrees with the rest of the meal, depending on how you’ve chosen (a three-grain pilaf was an unnecessary starch boost for gnocchi but the perfect complement to a seafood stew), but are a pleasantly familial touch.

Wines are much better than tolerable; a concise list of American whites and reds by the glass or bottle. With such a short list, there is no room for error—surprisingly, though, there is plenty of room for eye-catching rarities, like the “Giuliano,” from Cameron Winery in Oregon, a remarkably food-friendly blend imported especially for the restaurant.

The space is comfortable, chic but sparse. Blond wood tables and low-slung black chairs fill the center of the room, ringed by padded banquettes. The bar is the same blond wood crowned with a chalkboard that displays the menu. The true accomplishment is the atmosphere at night, when the residual glare from the lobby above is parlayed, with candles and strategically placed pin-lights, into a cozy den where you can still read the menu.

Adjacent to the restaurant, in the space that used to be the downstairs gift shop extension, is a sleek waiting area to hold the inevitable crowd at peak brunching hours. One wall is devoted to a more-interesting-than-necessary Lawrence Weiner installation, a play on the theme “Here There & Everywhere” to ponder while you wait for your table.

It’s the only physical reminder that you are inside a museum full of iconic work, but there’s little chance you’ll forget where you are as you eat—the meal itself is an act of cultural appreciation. Take your nana, your tour group, or your hypoglycemic buddy here to show them what museum dining has the potential to be. Maybe they’ll think twice about those dry sandwiches next time.