“If God forbade drinking, would He have made wine so good?” — Cardinal Richelieu

“There are thousands of wines that can take over our minds. Don’t think all ecstasies are the same.” — Rumi (left)

“Men are like wine — some turn to vinegar, but the best improve with age.” — Pope John XXIII

“Sorrow can be alleviated by good sleep, a bath and a glass of good wine.” — St. Thomas Aquinas

“Beer is made by men, wine by God.” ― Martin Luther

“Man often needs wine.  It fortifies the delicate stomach, renews one’s strength, heals the body and soul, dispels misery and sadness, refreshes weary souls, provides joy and stimulates conversation among friends.” — St. Augustine

It’s a special treat for me because of the opportunity to sample mostly non-West Coast wines, stuff from the heartland and down in Dixie and the area that we Minnesotans oddly call “out East.” A few nuggets (and lumps of coal) from what I was able to gulp and glean:

Winner: Grapes developed at the University of Minnesota. Many fellow judges pooh-poohed the category — until I mentioned that these were developed by the same outfit that concocted the Honeycrisp apple. Its latest new grape, released in 2006, is particularly promising: Marquette garnered a gold (Chankaska Creek Reserve) and three silvers, including a rosé. A La Crescent-based blend from New York’s Coyote Moon Vineyards got a double-gold (unanimous golds from our four-person panel). Alas, my panel mates did not share my ardor for Indian Island‘s La Crescent.

Another bred-in-Minnesota champ: native son Jeff Runquist, whose Runquist Cooper Vineyard Barbera was named best overall red.

Loser: Spendy reds from Long Island. Since I’ve always been a bit flabbergasted by the prices of these wines (or actually the quality-to-price ratio), it’s no surprise here that the nine entries received two silvers, five bronzes and two no-awards. Doesn’t sound bad, until we take a gander at the tabs: $19 to $45. I realize the vineyard land probably cost a ridiculous amount, but c’mon. Virginia’s red blends were way better for less moolah.

Winner: The big guys. Barefoot’s Extra Dry Blanc de Blancs garnered the sweepstakes (best of show) award for sparkling wines with a $10 bottle that was among the best bubbles out of California to pass through my palate. Francis Ford Coppola’s eponymous winery amassed medals in 27 of the 31 categories it entered, including six double-golds and five best-of-class awards. Trinchero was named Value Winery for a group of lower-priced wines that received high medals.

Winner: The little guys, especially from British Columbia. La Frenz Winery’s seven major awards out of eight entries earned it the Small Winery of the Year award, and another B.C. operation, JoieFarm, scored a sweepstakes award for its ”Think Pink” Pinot Noir Rosé. The  Augusta Winery in Missouri gleaned a Terroir Award for the best display of regional characteristics.

Loser: A grape called noble. My panel took no time to decide that the three icky-sweet renditions of this varietal warranted no medal consideration.

Winner: Varietals such as vignoles, chardonel, carlos, niagara, vidal and especially diamond made it clear that the middle and eastern portions of this country have got it going on with lesser-known white grapes, often on the slightly sweet side but always with some nice acidity. The red grape called chambourcin also provided some very-good-to-great wines. 

Biggest winner: Yours truly, for getting a chance to sample such a wide range of grapes. And for getting to hang out with great wine writers like Tom Wark, Michael Apstein, Andy Perdue (left)and Ron Washam (aka the Hosemaster) and vintners Daryl Groom, Johannes Reinhardt and Clark Smith. Lots of learning, even more laughing.

Occasion: Sometimes the most apt description of a wine’s aroma and/or flavor is actually a color, and I love it when a wine smells and tastes “purple.” That’s one of many swell characteristics of the 2007 Herdade da Comporta ($22). The color actually is bright red, and this robust blend bears the characteristics of Portugal’s best wines: ripe, sun-kissed fruit, plenty of earthiness, firm but friendly tannins and lots of layers on the finish. The spicy notes make it a vegetarian’s delight, but it’s robust enough to play well with grilled red meat and sausages of all sorts.

Malbec was famed as the “black wine” of the Middle Ages; was a longtime staple in the Loire Valley and Bordeaux; became a non-factor in the former and fell out of favor in the latter after a 1956 frost killed off three-quarters of the crop; emerged over the centuries as “the” grape in Cahors; somehow made its way to Argentina; was discarded there and then rocketed its way to an inextricable association with that country.

The ascension of the Argentine stuff has been meteoric and relentless. A few years back, I wrote a piece wondering “What is the next malbec, the up-and-coming hot thing in red wine?” The answer was malbec, and it still would be today, with double-figure U.S. sales increases every year.

For millions of consumers, Argentine malbec replaced Australian shiraz and California merlot as a go-to, easy-drinking-but-not-lacking-in-oomph red. As the groundbreaking clone and altitude research by Nicolas Catena (left) took root, Argentine malbec exports exploded from 1.3 million cases in 2003 to 9.1 million in 2011.

Easy-drinking malbec has merlot’s soft but firm tannins and plush, plummy, sometimes chocolate-y flavors, but more of cabernet’s earthiness and acidity. It stands up well to (judicious use of) wood and is less prone to flabbiness, although as with all red wines, some are too oaky and some are too jammy.  

The versions from Cahors generally are darker and earthier with firmer tannins. Basically, more Old World. It often is blended with merlot and/or tannat there, but Cahors reds must be at least 70 percent malbec and usually, like the ones from Argentina, are 100 percent.

Malbec was an Old World staple for centuries after its emergence as a hybrid of the now-obscure prunelard noir and magdelaine noire des charentes grapes. It now is much more prevalent in the New World, with continually increasing plantings in Washington, California (where it was widely grown before Prohibition) and Chile, as it prefers dry, milder climates in which it can ripen early.  

In the grows-together, goes-together vein, malbec pairs well with Argentina’s most popular food, slabs o’ beef. It also works with pizza, portabella and other mushrooms, sausages and most Middle Eastern dishes. With some dark chocolate for dessert.

Occasion: I am loath to disagree with Mark Vlossak on anything, especially the outstanding wines he crafts. And I see his point when he calls the 2010 St. Innocent Momtazi Vineyard Pinot Noir ($32) a “winter wine.” He’s telling the truth but not the whole truth: This earthy, savory red would rock in at least spring and fall as well. The color and fruit are darker than with most Oregon pinots, and there’s a touch of curry powder in the wine’s rich undercurrent. Try it with roasted meat or fowl in cooler climes, grilled renditions of the same when it’s warmer (which might be never here in Tundraland).

But most of the good cheer in my little corner of the wireless world has been of an artistic nature. Staying with the medical front:

Next, a timely reminder:

And finally, for those who, like me, could use some exercise:

Occasion: Some cork dorks might turn against any vintner who becomes “too popular,” but not this cork dork — at least when it comes to Kim Crawford, who with wife Erica has crafted another world-class white. The 2011 Loveblock Marlborough Pinot Gris ($24) fits right between Alsace and northeast Italy with its zingy beam of acidity, soft melony flavors and great lift and length. I felt like I could taste it hours later. Go for fresh seafood of any ilk, or even some herb-roasted pork and root vegetables. (Confession: In the course of researching this wine, a certain cork dork learned that Kim Crawford is actually a guy.)

We had a wonderful lunch together recently, and here’s just a bit of the wisdom the Wisconsin native imparted:

On Willamette Valley vineyards: “A great site produces clarity. Dundee is perfumy flowers, Shea more intense, a profile of complexity and density. We used to say Seven Springs had the most longevity aging. I was wrong; it’s Shea, clearly. … The soil at Momtazi [left] is the epitome of ‘too shitty.’ ”

On Oregon chardonnay: “For a while it was ABC [Anything But Chardonnay] in Oregon, but now we’re returning to Old World values. More people are being a lot more careful about what they’re eating, more fish and more birds and more pork, and chardonnay that’s balanced and has finesse, rather than a 2-by-4 slathered with butter, works there. The quality of the people making chardonnay is very high. …

“The expectation in the beginning was that we should make Burgundian pinot noir and chardonnay. But we got burned on [chardonnay] plant material. So you put it out of your mind, that’s it. We’ve had to redefine what we should do with chardonnay. We’ve collectively spent a lot of energy on, ‘what can we learn about chardonnay? How can we make Oregon chardonnay that’s as distinct and different from California’s as our pinot noir is?’ Diversity is very important; that complexity builds from the ground up, so I’m going with three clones and two rootstocks. And all old barrels, not stainless [steel] because I want less contact and external balance.”

On other white grapes in Oregon: “The volume story has been pinot gris. It’s a wine that’s grown for economic reasons. It’s easy to grow. People like it. … Pinot blanc ripens later than everything else. For 10 straight years I was the only person growing it … We’re gonna plant some riesling at 800 feet at Temperance [Hill Vineyard] in a really open, windswept spot. We wanna try to make some Mosel-style riesling.”

On cooperation among vintners: “Willamette is a great place to grow grapes. We are incredibly fortunate that [Eyrie's] David Lett [at left, back in the day] drove his station wagon up the valley and found this place. There’s no question it’s the holy grail for pinot noir. The real question is, have we figured it out? The answer is absolutely not. But have we asked the right questions and done the most research? I would say yes, more than any other place in the world. Cooperation, that is the huge strength of Oregon. … The base of information has broadened absolutely tremendously in the last 40 years. So we’ll be asking each other, ‘Is it really better to have one cluster per shoot?’ or ‘Is this clone and this rootstock best for this spot?’ ”

On the 2012 vintage for pinot noir: “My impression is that in 2008, if you didn’t make great wine, you need to find something else to do. Now, 2012 I’m not sure the quality was as ubiquitous, but the smart people made really, really good wine. At fermentation and pressing, the wines usually are not very impressive, but these were fabulous.

“There’s also a difference in that 2012 is a textural thing, not exactly richness but breadth in the midpalate. I don’t think people buy wine because it tastes like cherries but because of texture. These wines are incredibly rich and incredibly beautiful and incredibly terroir-specific. It’s probably the best Momtazi I’ve ever made, just insane.

“It’s foolhardy to proselytize but I’m excited. We’ve spent a lot of years working to keep people interested and spending their small amount of disposable income. With 2012 they’re just gonna buy the shit.”

On other vintages: “The 2007s now are eccentric and really interesting. … 2010 was the coldest vintage in 30 years. 2011 was the latest vintage I’ve ever seen. We were picking pinot blanc in November. Other than those two years, every vintage in this century has been warmer than the 30-year average. You can’t say ‘I’m never gonna grow syrah and cabernet in the Willamette Valley. They’re not ever going to get ripe.’ ”

On his previous hopes of making nebbiolo in New Zealand: “It’s not happening. Our friends over there moved back to the States. That’s probably a good thing because it was kind of a whack job.”

I’m fine with people criticizing me, and even questioning my professionalism, as this non-gentleman did. I can answer for myself, and in this case I will respond, not to any trash talk but to the notion that one cannot assess wine objectively if one is friends with people in the trade, the wholesalers, retailers, restaurant buyers and vintners.

In a word, hogwash. Balderdash. Poppycock. Horsefeathers. Tommyrot. Oh, and malarkey.

Never mind that by hanging with these folks, I learn a LOT about wine and grapes and the people and processes behind them. Or that we find plenty else to talk about, whether in a vinous context or not: geography, history, ethics, politics, culture, etc. We might delve into whether winemaking is art or science, but we’re more likely to talk about art and science, period.

Never mind that I gravitate toward those who don’t take wine, or themselves, too seriously, people who realize that wine is there for enjoyment, to be talked about (or not), but never to be talked to death.

No, the key point is that when assessing wines, I know how to be objective.

I’m experienced enough to know that context matters, that at certain gatherings (especially with those pesky friends) and/or in certain locales, a wine is absolutely going to be more memorable than if it were one of a dozen bottles I taste when I’m appraising samples. So I grade the former on a downward curve.

I’m also wise enough to know that those sample sips are just a snapshot, and evaluated in a flawed context, nothing like the way that we otherwise consume wine: over the course of an evening, usually with food. I do the best I can accordingly.

Bringing impartiality to the proceedings is what journalists do. I am sick to f-ing death of the attacks on my profession that have emanated from the right wing since (at least) Reagan. It’s hogwash (et al.). Of course we have personal views on religion and people and, yes, politics. But we put them aside when we do our work, and to claim otherwise is misguided, mean-spirited malarkeybullshit.

As simplistic as it sounds, there are two kinds of people in the wholesale and retail biz: those who are passionate about wine and those who might as well be selling widgets. I gravitate toward the former, and make no apologies for socializing with them.

Being passionate makes us better, not worse, at assessing wine: more delighted when we find something wonderful, and downright disgusted and insulted when we encounter swill.

 Blessedly, these folks generally don’t traffic in swill.

• Are you a wine snob, a wine geek or neither? This handy-dandy primer from Katie Kelly Bell provides the litmus test.

• I used to say such-and-such was “the best,” but I’m working on changing that to “my favorite.” But I’m pretty sure that Wine Folly is the best, and certainly is my favorite, newish wine website. Madeline Puckette’s artistic eye, incisive approach and thorough research make packages like this one on wine glasses the very definition of “can’t-miss.”

• Finally, some images, a periodic table of wine followed by a gender guide: