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Wine gifts and the gift of wine: the lagniappe and largesse of libations

Wine gifts and the gift of wine: the lagniappe and largesse of libations

The lagniappe and largesse of libations: the nature of wine gifts

What is the etiquette of giving a bottle of wine as a gift when you go to dinner at friends’ houses? Should you bring wine at all? Should it be something exceptional? I remember reading quite long ago the advice of a lifestyle commentator not to bring wine because it might imply that the hosts did not have the taste or the means to have appropriate wines. The advice even then seemed touchy, overly sensitive, and now sounds decidedly out of touch with reality.

Bringing a bottle of wine has become customary, and with good reason. We all enjoy receiving and giving gifts, and as far as gifts go wine is practical, appropriate, allows room to be imaginative, and it is always welcome. It’s something we all do now. Frankly, I’d be much more cautious about bringing food. Food is fine if specifically agreed on beforehand. The sort of thing where you say I’ll do dinner, you bring dessert, and that’s a plan. But just showing up with a pie when dessert is already in place can be awkward.

Dinners are about hospitality, and wine as a gift fits right in. So by all means bring wine to your dinner hosts. The real question is what to bring. With exceptions, my custom is to use a kind of equivalency with the type of evening and time of year. For special occasions, bring something extraordinary. Champagne is always a good bet. For ambitious dinners, bring a serious wine. For simple evenings, bring a good everyday wine. In summer, bring fresh and light wines. In winter, bring more full-bodied wines. Never ask your hosts what wine to bring. It puts them on spot and almost forces them to say, bring something modest. Most important, choose a wine that is a reflection of you and your tastes.

Whatever the circumstances, the wine may or may not be used that evening but it doesn’t really matter. It’s appreciated either way. A friend recently brought me a bottle of Dom Ruinart rosé champagne. It was the perfect gift for several reasons. Ruinart is one of the top, old-line champagne houses. Though small, their reputation is excellent, and their rosé is much admired. My friend is one of the directors of the Deauville Film Festival, where Ruinart is one of the favorite and glamorous drinks, so the gift seemed well thought out, very personal and meaningful.

Another interesting, recent dinner gift was a bottle of grappa. Grappa is a fun and festive way to end a meal, and something I don’t often buy for myself. I thought it was an original and sophisticated choice. That same night I received a bottle of Channing Daughters merlot. Since it is local and not widely distributed, my guests probably bought it at the winery in Bridgehampton—something that made it more personal.

One weekday night, I took a bottle of sangiovese to some friends in Sag Harbor. Unbeknownst to me, it was the same wine my hosts were planning for dinner and a few bottles were waiting on the sideboard. I was pleased with that coincidence. The sangiovese grape, primarily a product of Tuscany, makes a soft, rich, and mellow red wine, excellent with a broad range of foods. It shows up alone or in blends, with names like Chianti Classico, Montalcino, or Montepulciano (all on the expensive side), or just plain sangiovese, under various labels, and sometimes quite reasonably priced.

Di Majo Norante, a lively medium-bodied sangiovese with a handsome and distinctive label, is a real find, often selling at less than $10. It’s one of those perfect wines for everyday use—or for giving.

My image of a wine purveyor is low tech: a traditional shop with a highly knowledgeable salesperson. Buying online is a totally different experience but definitely has its place.

My image of a wine purveyor is low tech: a traditional shop with a highly knowledgeable salesperson. Buying online is a totally different experience but definitely has its place.

When you’re in an ABC mood (Anything But Chardonnay) and desiring something soft, golden and floral, try viognier. A big-time Condrieu or a smaller-time Long Island version.

When you’re in an ABC mood (Anything But Chardonnay) and desiring something soft, golden and floral, try viognier. A big-time Condrieu or a smaller-time Long Island version.