The Beaujolais Nouveau is here! Today marks the first day the 2007 Beaujolais is available – a cause for celebration in some circles. However, a few of us may roll our eyes in boredom and distaste, and a few more may shrug our shoulders and ask, "Bo-jo what, now?"

Made from the Gamay grape, the French Beaujolais Nouveau is the most famous example of a "vin de primeur" – a wine that is made to consume just a few weeks after the grape harvest. Thus the name "nouveau," or "new." Traditionally, the Beaujolais region celebrated this mid-November new-wine event to herald the end of the harvest, and it was not until after WWII that the wine was even available to those outside the Beaujolais region. As the rules relaxed, winemakers in the area realized the commercial potential of a folksy tradition and began to aggressively market Beaujolais Nouveau. Heavy-hitter Georges Duboeuf even staged a race to bring the first bottles of the season to Paris. By the 1980’s the trend reached the United States. Years of enthusiasm and advertising led to a surge in demand, and consequently a surge in mediocre, low-budg, bubble-gummy red wines.

The image of Beaujolais as strictly Nouveau infected the wine world at large. But don’t be deterred! Like hipsters acknowledging the cool factor of a vintage t-shirt, wine trendsetters like the New York Times’ Eric Asimov have been giving vintage Beaujolais the propers it deserves - albeit without the irony. Not to be confused with leftover 2006 Beaujolais Nouveau, vintage Beaujolais is made with the intention that it will stay in the bottle for at least a year. Recently, I had a chance to sample some Beaujolais of a higher quality - Beaujolais-Villages and Beaujolais Cru - with some wine enthusiasts. We chose five wines, all under $20 and all but one readily available in the Madison area.

The Gamay grape produced in Beaujolais is actually a mutant of the more-familiar Pinot Noir, although these two grapes create very different styles of wine. But as we poured out our first wine, the 2005 Georges Duboeuf Beaujolais-Villages, the color had the same brown-purple tint as many a Pinot Noir. Duboeuf is the name you’ll most often see when browsing through the fruity, guzzle-worthy Beaujolais Nouveau, and that light, candied aroma associated with Nouveau was noticeable in this wine. However, raspberry, cinnamon and a slight earthy tone added depth and interest. The taste was very light, with raspberries and that same subtle earthy quality that borders on musty. There were no tannins to speak of – any dryness or body only reminded me of unripened fruit, mouth-puckering without the weight. When chilled, as suggested on the bottle, the wine takes on even more Nouveau characteristics, tasting more like grapes and granny smith apples. The second wine we sampled was the 2006 version of the same Duboeuf wine. The color of this slightly younger wine was understandably less opaque, and sweeter, almost synthetically floral aromas hit our noses. The 2006 was noticeably bouncier than the 2005 with more straightforward fruit and less earthy must. There were young, sharp tannins here, but the short-lived kind that, understandably, didn’t carry over into the 2005. The edgy, chewy finish of this wine makes me think it could stand to be decanted (whether in a $100 crystal Reidel piece, or a $10 glass water carafe, it’s the same oxygen doing the trick). Georges Duboeuf wines are more ubiquitous than they are interesting, but they aren’t quite the McDonalds of the Beaujolais world. Case in point: our third wine, the Duboeuf 2006 Carquelin Moulin-a-Vent Beaujolais Cru. Granted the “cru” status denotes a higher quality, and Moulin-a-Vent is one of the more quality-driven regions producing Beaujolais, but the Duboeuf name is right there on the front. With aromas of cola, coffee, vanilla and white pepper – seriously, I’m not lying about the pepper – the Carquelin Beaujolais was balanced and layered with more body and up-front fruit than the others. The smooth, even tannins and subtle smokiness of the wine recalled a New World Pinot Noir.

Switching gears here, the last two wines are related to Beaujolais in that they are made with Gamay grapes, but they are actually Swiss wines. The 2005 Dubaril Gamay Romand (Cave de la Côte Uvavins) had a slightly orangey tint at the edge of the glass and an antiseptic, spicy nose. Like the winery’s white, a Chasselas, the Gamay was minerally and flinty with a peppery finish. The subtle tannins smoothed out as the wine had time to oxygenate in the glass. The 2005 Dôle de Sierre Valais leaves Beaujolais even further behind and blends 50% Gamay with 50% Pinot Noir. The difference was unmistakable. The slight hint of brown we saw in the Gamays was darker and muddier here, and the earthy aroma took on layers mushroom and sour cherry. The tannins and depth of the Pinot were tempered with the bouncy acidity of the Gamay and this juxtaposition will most likely lend itself well to a many-coursed dinner…say, Thanksgiving, maybe?

It’s true that Beaujolais Nouveau is often touted as the perfect wine for Thanksgiving dinner, and while the light, bright acidity and fruity flavors make it unfailingly easy to drink, it certainly doesn’t add anything to a dining experience. However, as we sipped our way through these vintage Beaujolais, references to Thanksgiving dinner kept cropping up. Cravings for dark turkey meat, root vegetables, acidic cranberries, and buttery stuffing were voiced, and that closeness to the earthy Pinot Noir conjures decaying fall leaves and musty wool – in the best possible way. So buy a bottle of the Nouveau to celebrate the end of the harvest – and make sure to drink it all at once – but consider a vintage Beaujolais to kick off the season of gastronomical indulgence.