I tossed together some hearty rigatoni with spicy peppers, pea-sized green tomatoes, Italian sausage and San Marzano tomato sauce, and I needed a muscular red to pair with it. The 2007 Monte Volpe Primo Rosso looked about right; its name means “Wolf Mountain” and it packs a 14.5% alcohol punch.

Reading the back label left me feeling a bit skeptical, however. I was intrigued to try this California blend of exclusively Italian varietals, but they really threw just about everything they could in this wine:

Primo Rosso (meaning 1st or best red) is a proprietary blend of several old world red grape varieties including Zinfandel, Sangiovese, Carignane, Negroamaro and Nebbiolo… This wine was aged for 18 months in American, Eastern European and French Burgundy oak barrels.

So let me get this straight — there are at least five varieties (maybe more) aged in three different kinds of oak. I’m no winemaker, and I certainly have only the most rudimentary knowledge of blending, but good heavens, is that necessary? I mean, how many different kinds of oak does one really need in a wine?

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I almost never dine near North Michigan Avenue, that famed Chicago strip so favored by deep dish-seeking tourists and overpriced restaurants. It was therefore with some skepticism that I approached The Purple Pig, a relatively new Spanish/Mediterranean hot spot set right in the heart of the beast: 500 North. But I wanted something a little fancy for my birthday, and I’d heard from a very trusted palate that it was “terrific.” And, well, it was.

Always thinking of my readers, I took copious notes about the experience (though it must be said their legibility and coherence deteriorated with distressing rapidity).

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I recently popped into In Fine Spirits to pick up another bottle of Jović Vranac, and I noticed two bottles of wine, labels hidden, standing on the tasting table.

“Would you like to try them and see which you like better? It’s for our own ‘Sweet Sixteen’ contest.” Each year, In Fine Spirits makes a bracket of wines in honor of March Madness. Customers vote on their favorites, and the field of wines narrows in concert with the basketball tournament.

Never able to resist a blind tasting, or really any tasting, I sipped Mystery Wine A.

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