Smooth operator: Blackstone Pinot Noir

There is something lovely about a wine with enough poise and grace to step back and let its flavor and essence wash lightly over your tongue and seep into your consciousness, instead of dropkicking your uvula and giving your nose a painful uppercut and calling it a pansy.

Blackstone Pinot Noir, if anything, is soft-spoken and lovely. And way more sophisticated than I am, as far as I can tell. Which makes it the perfect sort of social sipping wine, to be enjoyed by itself or with dainty little finger foods. There's no wincing to get it down; the alcohol's presence is refreshingly muted and even the scent is kind of nice in a musky perfume kind of way. There are notes of smooth jam and cherry. My only complaint about Blackstone Pinot is that it's not quite as complex as I like Pinot to be. The finish is relatively short and doesn't really leave you with much to ponder. Other than, Damn, I'd like to have another glass.

At about $10, this seems like a great candidate for an exoteric crowd-pleasing wine for people who are not insufferable winos. So allow me to add this to the list of varieties to take home to serve with Thanksgiving dinner. And if no one else likes it, I guess I'll just have to take care of it myself.