There's an idea out there that the Thanksgiving table poses some kind of annual wine puzzle. We don't know why. For one thing, though there may be all kinds of minor variants to a traditional menu, most Americans will sit down to a dinner that looks very much like menus from past years: a well-basted, oven-roasted bird with gravy made from the drippings, bread stuffing seasoned with a bouquet of dried herbs, side dishes of potatoes and other fall vegetables, a cranberry sauce or chutney. It's not as if we're about to be taken by surprise.
Although this menu has its quirks -- sage-infused stuffing, sugary yams -- matching these ingredients with a suitable wine doesn't offer any more of a challenge than you're likely to encounter with other menus. Over the years, we've sipped old Bordeaux and 3-month-old Beaujolais, New and Old World pinot noir, Rhode Island cabernet franc, even German and Alsatian riesling with more or less equal success. I don't ever recall being disappointed, or thinking a particular kind of wine just didn't work.
If there is one rule we apply with some consistency, it is this: Our wine -- assuming it's intended to complement the flavors of a traditional table -- needs to possess a kernel of sweetness. This may be the subtle kind that comes from beautifully ripe fruit, or the franker sort that derives from sugar intentionally left unfermented (in German rieslings, for example). The rule also mandates that that bit of sweetness be set off by the kind of bright acidity that gives wine shape and keeps everyone moving enthusiastically from one course to the next.
Historically, we've been able to count on New World wines -- from vineyards in California, Chile, Australia, and South Africa, for example -- to deliver ripeness, and those from the Old World (Europe) to deliver structure. But this dichotomy is gradually breaking down as technology makes it possible for these once warring camps to move toward a new stylistic center. Here the common model, no matter what the geography, is well-balanced wine made from ripe fruit.
This year, the wines we're recommending are all representative in some way of this rapprochement; they were chosen for their emphasis on bright, ripe fruit flavors. Each of the reds would benefit from a splashy pour into a roomy pitcher (this is called a hard decant) a half hour or so before serving. All that's left to do is carve and pour. -- STEPHEN MEUSE
Stephen Meuse can be reached at onwine@comcast.net. ![]()