But don't take my word for it. Go buy a box of Franzia Cabernet (not the Merlot or Chianti), which I consider a decent yardstick of value in a good cheap blend. The box costs $15 for five liters. A standard wine bottle has 750 ml, so the Franzia works out to about $2.25 a bottle—about what they pay in Europe for a bottle of good, cheap wine, usually blended. Do a taste test comparing that Franzia to any $15 bottle on the shelf. Unless you choose well or get lucky, the Franzia easily wins at least half the time. And even when it loses, ask yourself: Was the bottle seven times better than the box? That's a personal question, of course, one that's directly linked to your wallet.

Boxed wine has a bad rap largely because once upon a time notoriously bad wine was often sold that way. Sometimes it still is, but so what? That's not a reflection on the packaging.

In fact, sealing wine inside a plastic bag inside a box is less expensive and more environmentally friendly than using a bottle, especially when it's done with large quantities of wine. And unlike the contents of a bottle, which will go south soon after opening, boxed wine can easily last for weeks after opening, because the valve doesn't allow air in.

In a column last year I briefly noted the superiority of bag-in-box packaging over bottles, and soon after the column was published I received a Facebook friend request from a reader who said he wanted to send me some good boxes of wine. I friended him, of course, and gave him my mailing address. Soon a box arrived. A few weeks later, another. Then another.

Each time the FedEx guy drove up and handed me another octagon-shaped box, my surprise and glee boiled over. I would feel compelled to explain, "This guy I met on Facebook ... sends me wine."

I eventually figured out that my new Facebook friend is a wine merchant, and he's particularly psyched about a line of boxed wines he's marketing: the Octavian Home Wine Bar series.

The series includes both blends and varietals, packaged in pretty, three-liter boxes. My two favorites of the lot, not surprisingly, are blends. But what is surprising is that one of those blends is a white. The Big House White is a blend of Mediterranean varietals, some of which were harvested at night, supposedly to preserve floral and fruity aromas. The mixer, a Romanian named Georgetta Dane, reports "nose candy" of melon, pear, and lychee fruit and flavors of summer peach, dried apricot, and tropical fruit. I guess that's why I'm not a wine expert, though I admit it's as close to drinking flowers while wearing a summer dress in a breezy field as I'll probably ever get.

My favorite red in the series, Seven, is a blend of seven Spanish red grapes. That box was a spicy, zesty ride, absolutely joyous with mouthfuls of meat, and I savored every drop. Interestingly, a close second in the red department was a varietal, Boho Vineyards 2008 California Old Vine Zinfandel. At $24 for three liters, it was one of the most expensive boxes in the series, but still works out to only $6 a bottle. That makes it not only a steal, but a rare example of a varietal that beats the pants off of the Franzia blend, at only triple the price. Did I detect any of the plum jam and dried herbs advertised in the flier it came with? No, I did not. But it was really good, refreshingly smooth and dangerously drinkable—and luckily, its low alcohol content allowed me to drink more without getting plastered, as usually happens when I cook meat.

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