It’s like the Lord Voldemort for wine enthusiasts, we never say its name – but some of us actually drink Two Buck Chuck. It’s an issue that divides people down party lines, well maybe just dinner party lines, but it seems we can’t agree whether Two Buck Chuck is actually worth two bucks. Some of my 'foodie' friends with discriminating palates swear by TBC, while my less glamorous pals (girls who find it perfectly acceptable to serve SpaghettiO’s and meatballs at a dinner party), turn up their noses at a bottle of Chuck.

Mystery solved. Thanks to an article in Sunset magazine, I learned that Two Buck Chuck, (aka the Charles Shaw label) is never the same from year to year, much less, season to season. TBC is a mixture of large lots of bulk wines that merchants buy, blend and bottle. If you want to sound snooty, you could say it’s a version of the French negociant wine. That is, only if you can pronounce nagociant, which I won’t be attempting any time soon. TBC is the American version, so the vintages must be particularly kind, the stars must align -- and if you happen find a four-leaf clover on your way to the market, you may actually get a decent bottle.

Lucky for us, there’s a scientific method for deciphering this TBC madness. Next time you go to Trader Joe's, buy a bottle and take a swishy swig as soon as possible (not in the parking lot please.) If it tastes good, run, don’t walk, back in and buy a case.  If not, you can use it for cooking -- but be warned, self-respecting pork chops have been known to hop out of the pan the moment they were splashed with that embarrassingly cheap swill. I’m grateful for TBC because it’ll work if you’re in a pinch -- or on a bender. Sunset magazine tasted all of the varietals and they swear by the Sauvignon Blanc and the Chardonnay. I have to take their word for it since I never drink white wine -- it doesn’t go well with SpaghettiO’s and meatballs.

That’s why I’m grateful for TBC.