"Can you recommend a good wine club?"

A reader of my post ripping the Wall Street Journal wine club asked this question: "Could you recommend a good wine club? Something similar to WSJ, but without the lies?"

It's a very good question, and I hope this answer is worthy of it.

I don't usually recommend to friends that they join mixed-winery wine clubs because such clubs are often used to unload wines that aren't selling, sometimes for good reason.

Winery wine clubs are different: for some wineries, that's the only way you can buy their most interesting single-vineyard wines. You will have to buy a curiosity or two that you don't want to get the good stuff, but that's a decision many people find worth making. I've bought wines I don't want for years to move up on some mailing lists.

I always tell my friends that, instead of a wine club, find a good local retail shop who you trust, strike up a discussion with the wine buyer, and let them recommend a mixed case for you. It's the same idea as a wine club, but you have much more input (i.e., if you don't like Chardonnay or you love Petite Sirah or whatever, you can buy more of that.) If you don't like the wines they recommend, try it with another shop. You'll get much more accountability, and when you find a wine you love, you can quickly buy more.

However, if you're in an area without any good wine shops (like, say, Pennsylvania), this might not be an option.

In that case, I'll mention a couple of very good California retailers who have wine clubs: K & L Wine Merchants, and The Wine Club (despite the name, it's a 3-store California retail chain). I have shopped at these stores myself and they have good wines at good prices. I haven't looked into their wine clubs in detail, but they have the selection to create good ones.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Wines Til Sold Out, a New Jersey-based retailer that sells only one wine at a time, literally until it sells out. Quality is a mixed bag -- understandable because they switch wines more than once a day -- but they list third-party reviews right on the site, prices are very good, and you get free shipping on four bottles.

Keep buying and trying! That's like forming your own wine club of one.

Biggest sake event of the year

Here's a brief shout-out to Joy of Sake, the biggest sake-tasting event of the year in San Francisco.

It's scheduled for Thursday, Oct. 23 from 6 to 8:30 p.m. at the Galleria Design Center, 101 Henry Adams Street. Tickets are $75. Official details are here.

I strongly advise arriving as early as possible. The food is generally very good, but tends to run out early. There will still be plenty of sake to taste at 8 p.m., but if you're going to spend $75, you might as well have some sushi, barbecue and other goodies.

The sake selection is simply unparalleled. You'll be able to taste a great variety of sakes that never make it to the U.S.

I like to start with the delicate (and expensive) daiginjos, then work my way through the ginjos and junmais. But you can also just bounce around the room; why not?

If you don't take detailed tasting notes, at least put check marks or stars on your program next to the sakes you like. That way, you can remember what to buy the next time you're at True Sake or your favorite sushi joint.

Pace yourselves; sake is slightly higher in alcohol than wine (about 16 to 18 percent). There are few spit buckets and it's easy to get really polluted. That may be part of the draw, but you can get wasted a lot cheaper with a bottle of good Bourbon. If you're going to drop $75 on the event, you might as well get the most out of it.

I often like to fill my glass a little higher with my very favorite sake of the night and drink that one "for the road." Of course, I usually take BART home ...

Nextel supports Sarah Palin for President

Here's the subtext of Nextel's advertising: You don't need brains or training to be President. In fact, people would be better off if Congress studied the issues less.

Nextel is running an ad called, "What if firefighters ran the world?" In this ad, a soot-stained firefighter runs a Congress-like meeting by consensus. "You want clean water, guys?" Of course we do.

The firefighter mocks the paperwork of the bill they're supposed to vote on. Who cares about details? Firefighters will do what's right.

This could be a Palin-for-President ad -- it's essentially her political program ("We're going to get to Washington and fix it up, you betcha!") -- but it's very clever of Nextel to choose firefighters as her stand-in. Everybody likes firefighters.

Let me state that I also like firefighters. They're heroes.

So imagine the ad without firefighters in it -- imagine factory workers instead (nothing wrong with factory workers, but that's a less emotionally-charged image). Who needs a bunch of pointy-headed policy wonks to tell us about pollution and alternative energy? We can all just agree that we support clean water as well as puppies, good quality chocolate and sleeping late on Sundays. All in favor? Aye.

Unfortunately, this is NOT how good government works. But it IS what the Republican party has been telling red-state America, at least since George W. Bush's first campaign in 2000, and arguably for about six years before that. You don't need experts or discussion of issues. You need real likable people who you'd like to watch football with. Or, in the case of this ad, that you'd like to have on your side when your house is burning. Don't vote for the smart guy, vote for your buddy-to-be.

In financial political contributions, Nextel plays CYA, donating to Congressional incumbents on both sides with only a slight 55-45 Republican lean.

But in intellectual political contributions, this ad is the most pro-Bush, pro-Palin, pro-"good ole boy" ad on the air today.

Wine & Spirits Top 100 tasting

Ever wonder what these events are like? Here's what you got for $125 on Tuesday night in San Francisco:

You walk up red-carpeted steps into the U.S. Mint building, which is practically never open to the public. Just seeing the inside of this place is worthwhile. The trimmings are all steel, perhaps to repel Goldfinger (though who would ever push away Pussy Galore?)

You grab a Wine & Spirits logo glass and walk between various theme rooms. Each room has small tables holding two (or occasionally 3 or 4) wines from each winery listed in the top 100. Pours are more generous than in tasting rooms, and some people ask for seconds, although with all these wines to sample, it's easy to just keep moving.

Each room also had 2-4 items of food prepared by local restaurants. I wish I had taken better notes on these foods, because some were outstanding, like pancetta-wrapped chicken with sage skewers, tarako potato salad, and roast duck mini-sandwiches.

Bubbly and crisp whites are outside; that's where I started, sampling '03 Iron Horse and '97 Diebolt-Vallois just to warm up. There were unlimited oysters on the half shell, but I tend to just taste wine until I feel hungry to keep my palate fresh.

Bubbly highlights: 1988 Veuve Clicquot Brut was one of the best things I had all night, rich and Sherry-like on the long finish.

Crisp wine highlight: 2007 Santorini Assyrtiko, an amazing Greek white with plenty of Meyer lemon and fresh herb character. One of the best Greek whites I've had.

In the "rich whites" room, I got into a depressing conversation with the importer of 2006 Tahblik Marsanne. Great wine, earthy and interesting, but he admitted that it keeps getting dropped by different distributors because few consumers risk $15 on Australian Marsanne.

The "floral whites" room allowed me to try the 2006 Fox Run Seneca Lake Reserve Riesling, which stands up to good German Rieslings in its price range. This is one grape New York does better than the West Coast.

I loved the 2005 Hartford Court Far Coast Vineyard Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir, a very pretty wine with nice cherry fruit that I wish I'd had a whole bottle of for dinner. On the other end of the scale, the 2004 Lucien Le Moine Les Epenots Premier Cru Pommard was the most intensely aromatic wine I sniffed all night, with graphite and smoked pork jumping out of the glass along with black and red fruit.

In the Rhone Family room, the 2007 E. Guigal La Doriane Condrieu was a revelation: bright and beautiful, with plenty of apple and floral flavors and a rich, long finish.

The least-pleasant room was the Cabernet Family; the bright lighting made it noticeably hotter than every other spot, and people were visibly redder and sweatier. Perhaps the organizers were trying to push patrons into the underattended Italian/Iberico chamber, but it didn't work.

And how could it, with an opportunity to taste gems like the 2004 Diamond Creek Red Rock Terrace Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon? Great wine, quite complex and elegant. I admit I didn't linger in this room, but I can see why people did.

I tasted maybe 80 wines and didn't lose my palate (I always spit, of course), but did find myself explaining how to find a good eyeglass shop to somebody who clearly didn't care. You know you're absorbing a little too much alcohol when you sound loud, even to yourself. So I bailed, having one last sip of '88 Veuve Clicquot for the road.

If you get a chance to attend this event next year, do it.

Have you ever poured Champagne on yourself?

I have. When I got a phone call offering me a job I really wanted, soon after muddling through a professional-sounding acceptance, I got off the phone, cued up the Ramones' version of "Do You Wanna Dance?", pulled a bottle of Schramsberg out of the fridge and did a little jig on the patio, pouring the bubbly over myself and my wife.

My wife, who hadn't been warned, had fetched bubbly glasses when she saw the wine and was surprised to taste it running down her face. I still remember it as a great moment in my life; she probably remembers it an unexpected eye-burn.

This column by ESPN's Gene Wojciechowski reminded me of that day. I clicked on it because the link implied that Wojciechowski was going to rant against Champagne in sports, and I was prepared to be offended. Instead, I agreed with all of his points, particularly that wearing swim goggles to a Champagne spraying is wimpy.

His main point is that events need to be really important to merit spraying perfectly good bubbly (though let's hope ballplayers use Cook's or Andre). First-round playoff wins don't suffice. And neither do small raises or promotions.

That said, most of us have had a Champagne spray-worthy moment in our lives. Did you take advantage? You can't wait: it's got to be that moment, not an hour later.

Let me add that I'll be keeping some affordable bubbly chilled and ready in the fridge on Nov. 4.

Private label wines: the future is now

Sssh -- here's an industry secret. Private label wines are all around you, hiding in plain sight.

Many, many wineries now offer special deals on their excess juice to big grocery stores and wine chains. Sometimes it's the only way to ensure that the chain carries the winery's main product.

Moreover, these big chains are motivated to sell these wines because they're the most profitable -- so inevitably, they're the wines you see in handwritten signs as "the store's top 10."

Please don't misunderstand: there's nothing sinister about this practice at all. In the UK, private label wines -- many commissioned by supermarkets -- have taken over the bulk of the industry. People are not put off by buying Tesco Malbec from Argentina.

Moreover, I believe the bulk price for juice that will go into private-label wines is as fairly priced as anything in the wine industry. That makes intuitive sense: Take away the well-known winery's name from the label, and all it has to sell is the quality of its juice.

But here in the US, people still cling to the idea that they can get a "hand-crafted" artisanal wine for $11.99. Fat chance, folks. For the most part, wines in that price range are made from juice that was bought on some country's bulk market.

So retailers go to great lengths to hide the fact that their "special purchase" wines are, in fact, private labels.

Embrace it, folks. Private-label wines may not have individual vineyard character, but you've generally got to spend $20 or more for that anyway.

If you're only spending $12, you've probably had plenty of private-label wines already without even knowing it. Accept.

Scotch with dinner: A pairing guide

Normally I don't drink hard liquor with dinner; the exception is that I occasionally like a little Tequila or mezcal with Mexican food. But whisky, for me, is something to enjoy after the meal.

Last week I attended a Scotch-pairing dinner hosted by the makers of Highland Park, who were introducing their new 40-year-old bottling, which sells for a rich $2000.

Highland Park makes some great whisky. I particularly like their 18-year-old, a relative bargain at about $85. It's spicy, rich and fruity, with a chocolatey on the smooth finish.

But does Scotch, even good Scotch, go with dinner? Chef Mark Sullivan at Spruce restaurant in San Francisco was tasked with proving that it does.

A couple of his dishes succeeded marvellously. The opening course of French Pumpkin Soup with Chestnuts & Sage was a great success. It was paired with the Highland Park 15-year-old, smooth with a mild peatiness, but it also went well with the other Scotches on the table.

The key was the richness of the soup -- creamy, very slightly sweet, with noticeable nuttiness that played well with the whisky's flavor profile.

The second biggest hit was dessert: Nougat Parfait with Vanilla-Roasted Apple and Scotch Caramel. The apples were poached in Muscat and finished with some of the 25-year-old Scotch served with the dish. I don't recommend pouring a $250 whisky on your own dessert, but surely a cheaper Scotch would work just as well. (Maybe not Old Smuggler ...)

I loved the Savory Roasted Rabbit with French Lentils and Chantenay Carrots, and it was also quite good with the 30-year-old Scotch. But to be fair, this dish would have been excellent with a huge range of drinks: white or red wine, sake, beer, cider, you name it. So I credit Sullivan for making a great, booze-friendly dish, though I don't know if it was Scotch-specific.

Highland Park's story is interesting. The distillery is way, way up in northern Scotland in the Orkney Isles. The remoteness is the only reason the company still has enough single-malt to make the 40-year-old.

Back in the '80s, blended Scotch made up the majority of sales, and the industry was suffering, so most distilleries sold their single-malt barrels to go into blends (Chivas Regal, Johnnie Walker, etc.)

Highland Park would have done the same thing, but the transport costs from Orkney meant they weren't competitive on price. So the distillery suffered through hard times with a lot of whisky aging, unsellable, in its cellars.

In the '90s, single malts took off, and now many distilleries found themselves with shortages. There's no way to go back in time 25 years and make more single-malt whisky; you just have to wait. But here's Highland Park, sitting pretty on a surplus.

I'll be honest: The $2,000 40-year-old was only my second-favorite whisky of the night, after the 18-year-old. It's very rich, and much peatier than the rest of the lineup, with molasses and cocoa notes and a very long finish. If you should splurge at a cocktail bar for a taste, do NOT add a wee drop of water -- the whisky did get a rounder texture with water, but a less interesting flavor and a shorter finish.

I also preferred the 25-year-old (noticeably sweet, with notes of molasses and caramel corn) to the harder-edged, more expensive 30-year-old.

The 40-year-old was not served with dinner; it came afterward on its own. This mildly undermined the message that you can have Scotch with your food. But I did come away from the dinner with a new appreciation for Scotch's food-friendliness. Hold the haggis, please.