The reds of the northern Rhône Valley are some of my favorite wines in the world. When not wrapped in the homogenizing influence of new oak aromas and textures, the wines radiate a combination of savory intensity, freshness and nuance I find almost unrivaled.

The region is home to the syrah grape, yet most people who have been weaned on the syrahs of California or Australian shiraz, as syrah is known there, are shocked when they taste a red from the northern Rhône. The exuberant fruitiness they expect is nowhere to be found. Rather than sunny optimism in a glass, the best Rhône reds present a bleak smile of wisdom, a world-weariness that tempers the easier cheer of the New World wines with an awareness born of centuries of hard-won experience.

Here at Wine School, we’re not satisfied merely to catalog the aromas and flavors we may detect with a taste. We look for the story conveyed in good wines by those outward characteristics, and we try to determine our own considered reaction to the wines.

Each month, I select a particular genre of wine for all of us to drink at home. The idea is to open the wine in a comfortable environment, over a meal with family or friends, which permits us to develop not just an initial impression of the wine but a deeper understanding of its potential. Then you report back via the column’s comments section, and, after a few weeks, we reconvene to discuss.