I have no idea if it's poured in airports around the country, but the 2007 Pillar Box Red ($12, click to find it), a black-fruited, lively, spicy blend of Shiraz, Cabernet and Merlot seems to me an ideal sort of pre-flight nerve calmer, if you're the sort who suffers from pre-flight nerves. The fruit comes largely from the Padthaway vineyards of producer Henry's Drive, then is whacked into shape by Australian winemaking-guru Chris Ringland, who puts it in a mix of French and American oak for a modest three to four months. Even if you don't suffer from pre-flight jitters it would still take the dullness out of an extended airport stay, something I was contemplating as I tasted it. I'm headed off today for a bit, so Tasting Room may be erratic—or more erratic than usual—over the next week. Fair warning given!

Well, here in NYC it's a rainy fall day, which always brings to mind (my mind, at least) dishes like the venison chili I made the other night, and wines like the 2005 Hendry Block 28 Zinfandel ($30, click to find it) that I opened to go along with it. The Hendry is a big, boisterous red, with lots of rich berry fruit, but a firm framework of tannins to support it. Not a small wine, but not a monster, either.

I don't know how much of the 2006 Chateau Blanc Un Autre Rouge Côtes de Ventoux (price a mystery) makes it to the US, since wine-searcher seems never to have heard of it, but if you like lively Rhône reds and you spot a bottle, go for it. Purple berries, a scent of violets, prickly tannins, rustic spice—couldn't be more Rhônish in nature. I suspect it's affordable, and write this in hopes that a wave of the stuff will soon appear on wine store shelves.

Another good wet weather wine, ideal with something like my ex-colleague Nick Fauchald's Beef and Lamb Burgers with Cheddar and Caper Remoulade—mighty tasty burgers that he concocted this summer for a story on wine vs. beer pairing—would be the 2005 Vallado Tinto ($25, click to find it) from Portugal's Douro river valley. A blend of various local grapes, it's deep garnet in color, dark, rich and dense with lightly baked Douro black cherry fruit—another red very evocative of the place it comes from. 

A couple of weeks back I was on the Today show talking about seasonal beers—for instance Winter Warmer from Harpoon, which has cinnamon and nutmeg in it, Smuttynose's Pumpkin Ale (one of the only pumpkin ales I've ever liked), and Moorhouse's luscious Pendle Witches' Brew. A fun segment, albeit a bit fast and loose with the proper beer terminology; for my part, I was on a powerful dose of decongestants so I wouldn't sound like a goose with a clothespin on its beak, and when you add in the beer we were sipping, it's a wonder I was coherent at all. Anyway. The point of this ramble is that when I was putting the segment together, it was actually sort of difficult trying to remember which breweries produce which seasonal beers.

So, hats off to the Brewers' Association (the trade organization for U.S. craft brewers) for putting together a whole site devoted to seasonal beer releases throughout the year. Pick the state where you live and a season, and the hardworking circuits behind the thing will immediately give you what beers are (or should be) available to you. Of course, this may only interest the true beer geeks among us, but I still thought it was pretty cool.

Sometimes you need a wine that can take a steak and just plain whomp it into submission. And if that's the sort of wine you're looking for, Aglianico isn't a bad grape to consider. Professore Piero Mastroberardino of Mastroberardino, one of Campania's most lauded wineries, stopped by the F&W tasting room the other day with some of his latest red wines, all of which are made from the Aglianico grape ("red wines" used loosely—these were really more black-red in hue). 

Aglianico's notoriously fierce, musclebound with tannins and broodingly aggressive; but it's a heavyweight boxer with a good heart. "It's a tough variety," Prof. Mastroberardino admitted, "but I'm fond of it for its personality. For sure, it's a variety you have to pair with the right food, too. Baby goat, which we put on the table at Easter, and of course game, which is what we put on the table in the Taurasi DOC." I'd add to that any kind of massive, well marbled steak. Or short ribs. Or...

Anyway, look for the 2006 Mastroberardino Aglianico Campania (about $20, click here to find it) for a relatively—that's relatively—gentle intro to this variety, with smooth dark cherry and smoke notes ending on grippy tannins.

The 2004 Mastroberardino Taurasi Radici (about $50, click here to find it) has a touch more wood, with spicy dark cherry fruit held in place by taut, intense tannins and an almost searing end (it would be much better with food). "In my opinion, 2004 has great potential," Prof. M. said. "It will better the 1999; it has superb concentration."

Finally, the 1999 Mastroberardino Taurasi Radici Riserva (about $65, click here to find it) is just lovely—the added age and mellowness it brings underscores the more generous side of the grape. Smoky tea leaf aromas, luscious, slightly wild—animale as the French would say—savory notes, pure cherry fruit, a finish that descends into resinous tannins. Terrific wine, and just as good the second day when I tasted it again. 

The other day my colleague Kristin Donnelly blogged about an upcoming auction at Christie's as a likely source for good values. At it—thanks to the rough economic times—I know she scored some very intriguing sounding wines for the comical price of $50 a case. Anyway, it somehow struck a chord in my mind with the result that last night for dinner I opened up a half-bottle of 1989 Château Citran that I'd recently found in an old shoebox in the back of my closet (really). It was tobacco-y and very distinguished, still holding onto a reasonable amount of cool blueberry fruit, and aromatic in a filigreed kind of way—musically, it would be a Chopin etude rather than the Beethoven symphony that first growth Bordeaux tends to suggest. (Or The National rather than My Morning Jacket, if you'd rather get more contemporary.) Anyway, it was pretty darn impressive, especially given that I've been carting the thing around the country with me for about fourteen years now (I bought it in 1994). So if you can find any of the ’89 at an auction—whether for $50 a case or not—snap it up!

And, what that brings to mind is the 2005 Château Citran (about $25, click here to find). It's from an equally good vintage—’89 was pretty off-the-charts, but so is ’05—is polished and firm, and should have an equally long life ahead of it. Whether it will age perfectly in a shoebox, I don't know. But I wouldn't be surprised if it did. 

I had the opportunity to sit down recently with Sandro Boscaini of the Veneto producer Masi to taste the winery's new Tuscan wine, the 2005 Poderi del Bello Ovile ($20, click to find it). This is produced in partnership with Count Pieralvise, owner of the Serego Alighieri estate in Gargagnago (from which Masi produces some of its best Amarones) and a direct descendent of Dante Alighieri—who was, of course, exiled from Florence in the 1300s. "You shall leave everything you love most dearly: this is the arrow that the bow of exile shoots first," Dante wrote in his Divine Comedy. In other words, take away a man's Sangiovese, and he gets testy about it.

Well, hm, time heals all wounds? I guess after nearly 700 years, sure. Bello Ovile is in the south of Tuscany, across the river Orcia from Banfi's Brunello di Montalcino vineyards (and thus not located in Brunello di Montalcino, which is why it's $20 instead of $70). Medium-bodied, with sweet cherry and crisp tannins—that sort of dried-leaf texture that Sangiovese often suggests—it's an appealing red for a fair price. Sandro Boscaini, in his typically graceful way, observed, "It's a very cordial wine," adding that he feels the wine's cherry intensity comes from five percent Ciliegiolo in the blend—a grape aptly named, as the variety's name comes from the Italian word for cherry.