Throughout eighteen years of business I have withstood the temptation to tell you what to serve with turkey. To demonstrate that middle age has not fixed my brain in concrete, that I am still full of fire and rebellion, I’m going to shatter tradition and tell you what to drink with the traditional Thanksgiving feast: California Chardonnay.
Oops, no, just kidding.
Let us look at the problem more closely. You are sitting around the bird with your uncle who annually proclaims, “I’m no wine conn-oh-sewer but I know what I like,” and your grandmother who says, “Red wine gives me a headache and white wine gives me heartburn,” or your father-in-law who wants to know, “What, now you’re too good for Mogen David?” For turkey I would descend into my cellar and stay there. No, I mean I would pull out all the mistakes I cellared and will never drink. This is their shining moment! Turkeys deserve turkeys.
No, seriously, I would never do that. I am too selfish. I like Thanksgiving fare, so I serve what I want to drink. With a large group at table here is the occasion to orchestrate a series of wines. Usually I decide to go with red Burgundies, once the aperitif is out of the way. I might start with an ’88 or ’89 Fleurie or Moulin-à-Vent, then to a Pommard or Volnay from the early eighties, then to an older grand cru, a Mazis or Bonnes-Mares, 1971 or 1972, for example.
If you have enough guests, this month’s Gevrey-Chambertin sampler would go beautifully with the roast bird and dressing, and it would give you the chance to taste through an assortment of great red Burgundies at one sitting. Serve them in the order listed, not all at once.
By all means, finish off the meal with our Moscato d’Asti. It is light (7% alcohol), it is sparkling, it has a sweet touch, it is delicious, everyone will love it, you and your uncle, your grandmother and father-in-law, plus it is only $8.95. Finish the feast with a sparkle.

—November 1990

Throughout eighteen years of business I have withstood the temptation to tell you what to serve with turkey. To demonstrate that middle age has not fixed my brain in concrete, that I am still full of fire and rebellion, I’m going to shatter tradition and tell you what to drink with the traditional Thanksgiving feast: California Chardonnay.
Oops, no, just kidding.
Let us look at the problem more closely. You are sitting around the bird with your uncle who annually proclaims, “I’m no wine conn-oh-sewer but I know what I like,” and your grandmother who says, “Red wine gives me a headache and white wine gives me heartburn,” or your father-in-law who wants to know, “What, now you’re too good for Mogen David?” For turkey I would descend into my cellar and stay there. No, I mean I would pull out all the mistakes I cellared and will never drink. This is their shining moment! Turkeys deserve turkeys.
No, seriously, I would never do that. I am too selfish. I like Thanksgiving fare, so I serve what I want to drink. With a large group at table here is the occasion to orchestrate a series of wines. Usually I decide to go with red Burgundies, once the aperitif is out of the way. I might start with an ’88 or ’89 Fleurie or Moulin-à-Vent, then to a Pommard or Volnay from the early eighties, then to an older grand cru, a Mazis or Bonnes-Mares, 1971 or 1972, for example.
If you have enough guests, this month’s Gevrey-Chambertin sampler would go beautifully with the roast bird and dressing, and it would give you the chance to taste through an assortment of great red Burgundies at one sitting. Serve them in the order listed, not all at once.
By all means, finish off the meal with our Moscato d’Asti. It is light (7% alcohol), it is sparkling, it has a sweet touch, it is delicious, everyone will love it, you and your uncle, your grandmother and father-in-law, plus it is only $8.95. Finish the feast with a sparkle.

—November 1990