The original question was “Is a value still a value if you don’t want to drink it in the first place?”. And the original premise was to get a case of cheaper wine that doesn’t have anything to do with larger-name macro wine empires and see if it’s worth it. So what did we have? The lowdown:

Three Winds 2007 Syrah Vin de Pays d’Oc France, $8.95. Quality? Good. Value? Yes.

Caleo 2005 Primitivo Salento, Puglia, Italy, $9.95. Quality? Decent. Value? Kinda.

Altos las Hormigas 2007 Malbec, Menzoza, Argentina, $9.95. Quality? Decent. Value? Kinda.

Domaine Paul Autard 2006 Cotes du Rhone, France, $10.95. Quality? Very Good. Value? Yes.

Foppiano NV Lot 96 California, $9.95. Quality? Good. Value? Kinda.

Garnacha del Fuego 2007 Old Vines, Calatayud, Spain, $8.95. Quality? Very good. Value? Yes.

Henry’s Drive 2007 Pillar Box Red, South Australia, $10.95. Quality? Good. Value? Yes.

Daniel Belda Fonsalet NV Monastrell Jove, Valencia, Spain, $8.95. Quality? Fair. Value? Kinda.

Vallescoro 2006 Prieto Picudo & Tempranillo, Castille y Leon, Spain, $8.95. Quality? Good. Value? Yes.

Feudo Arancio 2006 Nero d’Avola, Sicily, Italy, $8.95. Quality? Very good. Value? Yes.

Garofoli Farnio 2007 Rosso Piceno, Marches, Italy, $10.95. Quality? Fair. Value? No.

Terra Andina 2007 Carmenere, Valle Central, Chile, $9.50. Quality? Very good. Value? Yes.

• Case cost total: $116.95
• After Case Discount: $105.26
• Average cost per bottle: $8.77
• Number of “Value? Yes.” bottles: 7
• Number of “Value? No.” bottles: 1
• Number of “Value? Kinda.” bottles: 4

I suppose you can draw your conclusions from the numbers here, as they are also just one person’s opinion. But if these numbers mean anything in the vast ocean of wine out there, it’s entirely possible to fill a cheap case with winners, or with duds. This was a mix of the two. But to answer the question of whether or not values really are values, I think the benefit of the experiment is in the question, not necessarily in the conclusion.

But to draw a bottom line, I think the jury is still out on this one, given the mixed results. More research needed. Hurrah!

Well, let’s get this out of the way. I don’t think it’s going to be all that interesting to continue single-posting a whole case of wine. I’ve got more interesting things to write about. So let’s kick it into high gear and mass-review the next 9, and get to the juicy conclusion.

Wine #4: Feudo Arancio 2006 Nero d’Avola Sicilia IGT, Italy

Sicily is always going to be a haven for decent values if you like old-world wines with a modern flair. No exception here. It’s rustic, yet refined. Spicy, fruity and even a touch jammy. It tastes like a warm island in the Mediterranean, served up with buttery mussels and capers while feeling the warm afternoon breeze. No really! It was just like that!

Worth it? Yes. Get it again? Yes.

Wine #5: Garofoli Farnio 2007 Rosso Piceno DOC, Italy

Keeping in Italy for the next one, here we have a wine from the Marches region, a less-traveled area for most Americans, wine-wise. I mean, you can’t visit a wine shop without tripping over a stack of Chianti of some sort, but when was the last time you had a wine from the Marches? That’s right, you never have! Okay, just kidding, but they are few and far between, and this probably only made it over the ocean because it hitched a ride with a Verdicchio Castello di Jesi, (its neighbor). So this is a Sangiovese and Montepulciano blend. It’s about the quality you might expect from a Chianti Ruffina. Dry, slightly stewed fruit, hints of dried smoldering herbs, but with tannin consistent with Central Italian reds. Needs food, though.

Worth it? Er, sure. Get it again? Er, maybe. There are probably a hundred things I’d pick up before getting this again, but it’s drinkable.

Wine #6: Caleo 2005 Primitivo Salento IGT, Italy

Yet another Italian wine, this one from the South in Puglia. If Italy has a Dirty South, Puglia is probably it, and you can really taste the terroir in any of the wines of the region. This is Primitivo, genetically the same as Zinfandel, but you could never mistake the two. It’s juicy in its own right, and has the prune-y flavors I get off of most of the Primitivo wines of the region. It’s a deep, dark, dried fruit, coarse tannin and some subtle spice.

Worth it? Yeah, I suppose so. Get it again? Yeah, maybe.

Wine #7: Garnacha de Fuego 2007 Old Vines, Calatayud, Spain

A selection from Spain! I am a long-time fan of Grenache, a grape that makes something different everywhere it goes. In Spain, where it’s very warm, it makes this. Bold. Juicy. Got some blackberries. Some currants. A touch of clove and anise. Soft tannins. The flashy label? I don’t care for it so much. It seems a bit cheesy to me. And they say wine and cheese go together. Ha! For an easy-drinking red, this kinda rocks. Needs fuller-flavored foods, though. Pizza. Spaghetti and meatballs. That kinda thing.

Worth it? Totally. Get it again? You bet!

Wine #8: Bodegas Otero Valleoscuro 2006 Prieto Picudo & Tempranillo, Castilla y Leon, Spain

What the heck is that? Prieto Picudo? Huh. Some Spanish grape, I suppose. Spain is still a great place to find values considering its developing status on the international wine horizon, at least with the lesser known regions and grapes. Like this one. What was it called again? Prieto Picudo. Huh. Well, it comes from the neighborhood of Ribera del Duero, although it’s a far cry from that powerhouse. Strawberries. Light spice. Medium-light tannins. A bit higher acid. It’s a somewhat lighter red that you could  probably just mistake for straight-up Tempranillo. It does contain Tempranillo but in a smaller proportion (15%) to the larger proportion of the other grape. What was that name again? Prieto Picudo. Huh.

Worth it? I suppose. Get it again? Yeah, sure. Why not?

Wine #9: Altos las Hormigas 2007 Malbec, Mendoza, Argentina

In Argentina, Malbec is king. No, wait. Not “king”. Generally there is only one king in a specific locale. What’s a good metaphor for something when there are lots of those things? Cockroaches? Yes! In Argentina, Malbec is a bunch of roaches! They’re everywhere! No, no. That’s not quite right either. How about “stars”? Good, good! And poetic, too. So in Argentina Malbecs are like the stars in the sky. There are a ton of them. Some are brighter or dimmer, larger or smaller . . . um, cheaper or, uh . . . more expensive. Sigh. The point I’m getting at is there are a lot of Malbecs in Argentina in a wide range of styles, from light and juicy, to heavy and tannic, to overblown, overoaked and overpriced. And some . . . just are. Like this one. So much so that this description was primarily a distraction.

Worth it? Well, yeah, I suppose. Get it again? Well, yeah, I suppose.

Wine #10: Terra Andina 2007 Carmenere, Valle Central, Chile

Okay, now. We may be onto something here. The most often overhyped grape of Chile makes good. There is something about this that I find so pleasing. It’s like a certain crispness of character that I’ve grown so fond of in Cabernet Franc. Delicate, but with a punch. There’s fruit here. And this light, delicate flower on top. Wow. This I did not expect. Requires further research.

Worth it? Hell, yes. Get it again? Hell, yes.

Wine #11: Henry’s Drive 2007 Pillar Box Red

It’s a blend of Shiraz, Cab and Merlot. No surprise there. It’s Australian. Big. Fruity. Jammy. Unsubtle, but pleasant. There’s really not that much to tell. The reason why Aussie wines dominate the market is because they are good, easy-drinking, and overall pleasing wines at a great price. “Tails, you win” right? Not exactly THAT, per se. But true, nonetheless. Something I’ve learned about the Australian wine is that it’s a specific curve. Could be bell-curve. Could be parabolic. But price-to-quality certainly does plateau after about $25. That could spell trouble for their wine industry as a whole, but for the value seeker, it can save you some bucks. I’ll go as high as $50 for some oddball Mataro, just for nerdiness’ sake. But really, it’s pretty consistent. Heck, that’s probably another article altogether.

Worth it? Yep! Get it again? Yeah, if I’m in the mood.

Wine #12: Three Winds 2007 Syrah

This is another Australian w . . . huh, what? It’s French? But it’s—okay, okay . . . so it’s French. “South of France” it says. Specifically we know it’s Languedoc, but the website says they collect grapes from all over the region. So I imagine it’s really Vin de Pays, but not referred as such on the label. But really, it’s made in such a new-world style, it might as well be Australian. Bold jammy fruit. Screwtop. Flashy branded label. Actually, the fruit DOES exhibit a few more “French”-like qualities that differentiate it as a Syrah versus a Shiraz. Actual spice notes. A touch of black pepper. A fleck of clove. Awash in  jam. I know what they’re doing here. And it’s selling like gangbusters. Really, what the heck does that mean? “Gangbusters”? Ugh. Here’s the bottom line.

Worth it? Sure, whatever. Get it again? Only if you want to support the New-World influence on the old world regions, even if that means Languedoc. Oh, me personally? Nah.

Stay tuned for the juicy conclusion!

One of my reasons to research these inexpensive wines in the face of economic adversity is my lifelong cynicism about the retail industry in general and the commercial view of “value”. For example, long ago when I was about 10, I remember leafing through a Sears catalog, looking for things to circle so my folks would know what to get me for Christmas. This was back when the Sears catalog was bigger than a phone book. (Also when phone books were smaller, and people actually used them.)

Of course, I didn’t want to miss anything so I looked through the whole catalog. Appliances. Power tools. Lingerie and swimwear. Heh. Big store, big catalog. It kept me occupied for a few hours. What I remember though is that since it was the Christmas shopping season, they had the quintessential shopping guide, and whatnot.

One specific section of this gift guide was clearly labeled “Gifts Under $30!!!” And every single thing in that section was $29.99. Now, even at the age of 10 I was saying “What are you kidding me?” Way to throw us a bone, Sears. I mean, really. That shows just how much they care. Or, what they really care about. A few more rip-offs later and my journey to the dark side of cynicism would be complete. Darth Mike.

Segue into today, or around today-ish, and it got me thinking about the wine industry, as well. Wait, first let’s get into Europe. Someone send me to Europe?

Okay, now we’re in Europe. Or in Franco-Italio wine country. Everyone who I’ve known or met who has traveled to Europe come back with the same old story. The wine was spectacular, but it wasn’t the stuff you buy on the shelf in the states in bottles. It was wine you would buy in 2-liter jugs, or refillable bottles, or a canteen to take to work, or it’s piped directly into peoples’ homes, with a tap for hot, cold, and wine, and it’s spectacular and way better than the stuff we get in The States, blahdeblah, etc.

Not so coincidentally, I notice that there is a wealth of wine from those areas arriving to our shores with affordable price tags, and it’s decent juice. The aforementioned people who went to Europe would often say that the cheap stuff that arrives here in bottles isn’t as good as the plastic-jug country wine over there, but there’s something to be said about scenery while drinking the stuff. Plus, on the other side of that argument, it probably doesn’t do a wine any good to be jostled about on a boat in the Atlantic for 6 weeks, sometimes in 100-degree shipping containers.

So what’s our problem? While shopping for the under $10 wines for the case project, I tried to find representatives from our American shores to even out the roster. Australia was easy. Chile, Argentina, no problem. Italy, piece o’ cake. But when it came to our home country, it was near to impossible to find something within the budget that is still independently made. Sure, you could drop $3 on ol’ Charlie Shaw, K-J, or anything else that’s made in million-gallon batches. Or in Washington you can find the budget blends that get branded and bought by merchandising giants, where the cost rises by a buck-a-year and the quality drops with a resounding “Plonk!” sound.

And in Oregon? Fuhgeddaboutit! A place where any retired attorney can buy a plot of land, squeeze out a few bottles and then charge $75 a pop by the second vintage. A place where a $17 Pinot Noir is as cheap as it gets. You won’t see any Oregon wines in this project.

So here we are with the sole American wine I could find for the project: The Foppiano Lot 96.

I’ll start out by saying that I’ve always liked the Foppiano wines. They’re one of the few and premiere producers of Petite Sirah, and that will always be a positive note in my book. I gather that the wine is named “Lot 96” after the founding date of the winery (1896) rather than how many tanks there are in the winery, or a rotating number for each release, or whatever.

The first thing I noticed about the wine is the glaring absence of a vintage date. Now, don’t get me wrong. There are probably a lot of decent wines that aren’t from a specific vintage. But my knee-jerk response to this is usually along the lines of “there’s something about the wine that makes it so the winery can’t declare a vintage on there”. I mean, I think wineries can automatically charge more for a bottle if it’s a vintage wine.

So why couldn’t they declare it a vintage wine? The most obvious reason is blending wines from different vintages. I believe there are other conditions, like inter-state grape trading, or perhaps how the wines are made. The cynic in me just automatically believes that someone is trying to get away with something, but softened by the idea that maybe, just maybe, someone wants to put out something inexpensive. For the people!

After checking the Foppiano website and spec-sheet for the Lot 96, and after wading through a bunch of schlock that reads like corporate-monkey mission statements, I saw the general makeup of the wine is a kitchen sink blend of Sangiovese, Petite Sirah, Zinfandel, Carignane,  Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Cabernet Franc. Whew. Did we miss anything? Any room for some Lemberger, or something?

The end result? Good! It was about as dark as what I would expect from a Petite Sirah producer, and a nice purpley-ruby color. The nose was somewhat sweet and spicy, with brambly and blackberry notes. The palate was like a blackberry jam, hinting at some basil and vanilla-like notes, but not the hit-you-over-the-head-with-oak-staves kinda thing. Reminiscent of some Australian wines of a similar caliber, if tasted blind I’d have said it was some Barossa plonk. So it passed the test, and at $9.95, it fits the bill. Even for a cynic.