Better than Old Navy for the entire family.

Ironically enough, I will be giving less booze for Christmas this year. No real reason, other than I think people are starting to expect it from me.

Photographic proof, in case you didn't believe me

Mexico doesn’t export a lot of their wine–and it’s not like Sicily that specializes in crazy obscure grapes. Nope, they’re growing lots of known names like Chardonnay, Tempranillo (that’s for you Rioja-heads) and Italian hits like Barbera and Nebbiolo. And here’s another shocker: they make even more of it than Canada does, although most of it’s to make brandy. A lot of it is produced in Baja California, since there’s high elevation and it’s close to those cooling Pacific breezes to keep the grapes from getting more baked than the Ei Felta Thi fraternity on spring break.

L.A. Cetto Wines from Guadalupe is one of Mexico’s leading wineries. Their Petite Sirah was full of red strawberry/cherry flavors, which was interesting since the grape when grown in more traditional areas has more inky blue and black berry flavors. The L.A. Cetto version definitely had a sharp acidity to it that Petite Syrah tends to have.

It would probably make an okay sangria, though you’d have to hold back a little on the hard alcohol you used in order not to overcome the wine. Not particularly complex, but it was drinkable enough and definitely showed a lot of its rustic peasant Italian heritage.

Mohegan Sun Sol Toro restaurant, $8 by the glass

I’m now a Wine Ambassador for City Wine Tours. The story of how this came to pass is full of fortuitous little moments and connections, and I’m very excited to be working for a cool company that’s partnered with some of Boston’s stand-out wine destinations (no, I’m paid to lead tours, not say that). They’ve got a really interesting model, and they’re already traipsing around the South End, Back Bay, and Harvard Square too. And they’ve only been doing this for about four months. I’m the ninth Ambassador (woo! ground floor single digits!)

I’ll be leading my first crew through the North End this Saturday, when I am supposed to be studying for the CSW exam I’m taking on Wednesday. But hey, there are still 80 hours for me to learn the new EU appellation laws.

In addition to being able to say “yeah, I’m in the industry” in a blasé voice when I talk to someone who knows waaaaaay more than I do, it’s kind of a big deal for me because I was a volunteer tour guide up until six years ago for a non-profit. I loved showing my city off to tourists and telling them about why Boston was so special (well, duh, for starters, it doesn’t look like a Disneyfied strip mall like half this country does, but I digress). I loved telling the stories about how Trinity Church got built, or the scandal in the Boston Public Library courtyard. The tour had definite start and stop times–and when I got to the end, I’d say to the group “we’re supposed to say goodbye here, but I’ve got more stuff to tell you. So if you want to keep going, I’m game.” I wasn’t supposed to do that. I loved it when they all kept following me, because it meant they cared. They were having a good time.

That ended when I broke my leg on a tour (geez, this sounds like a Farrelly Brothers movie). The organization’s reaction was distant and minimally concerned. All I wanted was to know to know they cared, after all the years of time and training I had put in with them. They mailed me a book about the literary history of Concord instead.

So I figured that was the end of my time on the trail. I found myself instead accosting lost-looking tourists on the sidewalk with confused faces and foldout maps with “hey! You need some help?” But yet, Fate had other plans, etc etc. Destiny, ya can’t fight it. So I hope to see you on a tour soon; I’ll post a schedule of appearances when I’ve got them.

So here’s an anecdote about the power of social media: I was in my neighborhood “wine store” (quotes because I find it lacking in a lot of ways) because I was too lazy to get in the car and drive to a decent wine store to pick up my assignment for my tasting group when I came across Apothic Red, which I first became familiar with because they started following me on Twitter. So, as a polite Tweet-type, I followed them back. And here they were, smack in my hood. So of course, I had to try it. Yay, power of social media!

Apothic Red 2009 is a blend of California Merlot, Syrah and Zinfandel–all fairly friendly wines. The name comes from some ‘mysterious” alleged dark ages “apotheca” where wine was stored by monks, alchemists and warlocks or whatever. That sounded like the marketing wizards in full force, but I digress.

The irony is that there’s nothing mysterious about this wine.

When you know enough about wine to a) spout your gob off without much b) a pain in the ass to undereducated wine store clerks c) sought out by your friends for recommendations, you kind of want your fermented grape juice to be a challenge. A little bit of a puzzle or challenge. Something you can tussle with. Something that’s going to stay on your mind. Kind of like dating. For me, Apothic Red was a pleasant enough encounter, but I wasn’t going to call it again.

Wine is supposed to develop and evolve from when it hits your lips to when it goes down your throat. This one didn’t. Sure, it was chockablock of cherry, strawberry, chocolate, vanilla. Things I like. And what do those things make really well? Candy. This was definitely a candy wine: easy to consume in mass quantities. It’s off-dry (which means there’s sweetness without wielding soda-level sucrosity <–no, I don't think that's a real word) and there are next to no tannins. It's a one-note wine. This is not a wine that tells of the struggle of some idealistic, dedicated vintner who works the land out of love and a little madness. You can imagine this wine has been focused-grouped and manipulated to appeal to as few objections about red as possible.

And that’s okay. And if that's your kink, that's cool. Here's one for your shopping list. You could serve this at a party and pretty much with a lot of things for dinner and mix up some decent sangria with the leftovers. It won't offend anyone.

Ironically enough, I think my mom might like it, precisely because it's not challenging. So maybe I will be bringing it home to her.

$12 from a place I’m not gonna name because while the store is nothing special, the people are nice–one of them going so far as to offer to bootleg me a copy of his MC5 documentary. Also available, according to Apothic’s website, at Blanchard’s Jamaica Plain and West Roxbury, The Urban Grape, Bauer Wines, Huntington Liquors, Reservoir Wines, Marty’s Newton, Ball Square, Gordon’s, Liquor Land, Martignetti’s and a gazillion other places.

I wanted to drink something from 2001 tonight. This Twelve Staves McLaren Vale Shiraz was the first thing I found. Calm, quiet, smooth, and comforting, with just a little unresolved, inconclusive, melancholy edge of bitterness and heat.

Pic coming soon. It was a late night watching the news and being on deadline for a client.

Back in the day circa 2003, I got this at Cambridge Discount Liquors for $24, down from $32. I haven’t seen much of Twelve Staves for sale in these parts since.

Picco Vino: the world of wine...at your fingertips! Whee!

Caveat: the copyright on this is 2004, 3rd edition, which renders the vintage chart on this pretty useless. But through the power of Googlemagic, I’ve determined that this seems to be the most recent edition ever printed, so it’s not like this is like one of those purposefully mislabeled $5 used textbooks on Amazon where you’re looking for the 13th edition and get the 11th.

A peek at spining the aroma wheel.

Vinodivino in Newton, where I picked them up in the first place, still has a lot of them if you ever need a cool party favor or mass group gift.

The first five people who email me at kissmyglasswine at gmail get one!

O Pair may have converted me with their blue cheese and fig crackers. My friend Magda got me a three-month tasting box subscription to Foodzie.com for Christmas. In box #3 were these little shortbread beauties, and for a sample size, it took me two or three attempts to finish them off. Their Foodzie site says they can last four weeks, but these were so buttery, I was afraid they’d go bad in a few days. Silly me.

I have never been a fan of figs, but I really dug these. I tried them with a cab blend, a shiraz, and even a Portugieser and these crackers were perfect with all of them. They also have other flavors like garlic/rosemary, lemon mint, salt and pepper, and rosemary/walnut, but frankly, I’m a little afraid to mess with perfection and order the others.

Butter, salt, cheese. Really, what more do you need?

Foodzie.com, $19.50 for three 4-oz bags.

There are two ways I could describe this wine: 1) You pet a sleeping dog that starts humping your leg aggressively. 2) You’re at a bar, looking for a little action. You acquaint yourself with a young lass, retire to one’s quarters, and she turns out to be a way freaky lady-boy. (I dated a guy who had “sleep with tranny hooker” on his bucket list. Crossed off. That was the least of his issues. But I digress.)

Basically, this wine was watery and blah until it hit the back of the throat, and then it took a bad turn into Oxidation Junction. This thing got shrill. The label says it’s such a great match for fruit and cheese. The only way I could drink this stuff was with a hunk of smoked cheddar. Then it tasted okay, but I think it was the smoke that was dulling my taste buds into thinking all was well once again in Mouthland.

Quinta do Alqueve 2008, $12.

SOWA Market, $25