A Charles Shaw evening:

Living in Switzerland, I travel on business which includes North America. I was asked to purchase a crystal decanter for a collegue in California last year, and ballistically packaged it made the trip intact, and was punctually delivered.

I presented the new owner his gift, and he said " Come over Saturday night " adding with a wink " We'll have some fun. "

At dinner I was introduced by our host, who explained where I was from and that I travelled to Italy frequently. He then put the now filled decanter on the table, describing how expensive a good wine like Gaja could actually be in Italy. The eyes began to look at the ruby-glowing decanter, more than the host, his wife, or his guest as the newly appointed wine enthusiast guest ( and a cohort to our host's rib ). Seeing what was coming, it was hard to keep a straight face that evening.

He went on, and on, more long stories about expensive Italian wines. Nods from a few of the better bred guests were following the spoken visionary wine producing landscape of Tuscany, Piedmont, Siena. Lips were being moistened, throats swallowing, and obviously getting dryer. The speech was no doubt torturous to a few.

Finally the host's wife stepped in 30-40 minutes later, chidding her husband to allow the now-well aerated wine to finally be served. At this point he graciously apologized, and passed the decanter around, giving me another wink and a smile.

You can well imagine the adjectives: " A simply amazing vintage .., " " Outstanding wine production . . , " You can always tell a good European wine . ., " and to me the best one of the evening " Nothing like that here . " Everyone was gushing over the great wine that evening.

I was told much later, when the guests were leaving, and the "coast was clear, " that the " Epic wine " decanted that evening was in fact a good value purchase from Trader Joes. And hidden somewhere deep in the dust bin outside, well away from any curious guests lingering around, was an empty bottle of Charles Shaw Shiraz.