This is part two of an ongoing series related to direct-to-consumer wine shipping. If you are in the least interested in wine, especially wine that you read about but can't find in your local wine shop, this information should be interesting -- or at least important -- to you. You can read part one, which dealt with the three-tier system, here.

This is part one of an ongoing series related to direct-to-consumer wine shipping. If you are in the least interested in wine, especially wine that you read about but can't find in your local wine shop, this information should be interesting -- or at least important -- to you.

The Labor Day weekend is upon us, and during it I will be catching up on a bit of R&R out in woodsy Deerfield, MA -- a town that never fails to remind me of the New England Lake Wobegon, where the men are strong, the women are good-looking and all the children are above average. I plan on finishing up the latest New Yorker, the last two issues of The Economist, and several good books.

I really have to admit how much I love Gary Vaynerchuk's Wine Library TV. There is something about a guy from Jersey passionately discussing this year's Bordeaux vintage on an amateurish single-camera video over the internet. It's a cross between Robert Parker, The Sopranos, and this classic skit from Saturday Night Live:

Before Liz and I moved in together I used to live on Beacon Hill, one of the most picturesque neighborhoods in Boston with its steeply sloped streats and red-brick buildings. It measures only one square mile, but houses over 10,000 rich old folks, young working professionals, college studients, and former presidential hopeful John Kerry. Charles Street Liquors was my local wine shop. It was also the home of my favorite local wine shop, one in which the owner would routinely order difficult-to-find wines for me. I found a favorite white blend of mine there, Sokol Blosser Evolution. I picked up a 1975 DH Andresen Colheita Port for a friend's 30th birthday that was to die for. I had good wine, so life was good.

Liz and I stopped in to a recommended wine shop this weekend where we bought a very good Sancerre. When Liz twisted the corkscrew before we tasted the wine, however, the cork cracked into pieces, leaving a fine powder floating at the top of the wine. A quick pour from the top and a toss in the sink resolved the issue, but it was still annoying.

"This wine is great!"

You may have said it before, but what did you really mean when you said it? Can you accurately describe it, paint a mental picture of its greatness in words? What makes a wine great? Or rather, what makes a great wine?

This question is really at the heart of an online discussion over at Eric Asimov's blog (specifically, here and here) between wine writers, makers, and drinkers regarding the use of wine-making technologies such as micro-oxygenation and de-alcoholization. Wine geeks like myself might find it fascinating, but most likely you don't care about what is done to your wine as long as its under 10 bucks and it goes with your steak frites. If you've ever said that a wine is great and you couldn't tell us why, you might be interested to know.