Wine Rules

I had an amusing email exchange with my sister the other day regarding the proper season for certain wines.
Her: Is it wrong to drink rosé wine in winter?
Me: I don't think wine should have rules. Anyway, it's not winter yet!
Her: I had a darn fine dry Spanish rosé tonight at Arline's. It was up
there with this one, which is my fave rosé:
http://www.erobertparker.com/newSearch/pTextSearch.aspx?wine=Chateau%20Grande%20Cassagne%20Rose%20Costieres%20de%20Nimes

It reminded me of Kevin Zraly's strict rules for drinking port, in which you must be sitting in a big, comfy chair by a crackling fireplace, with snowflakes falling outside the window of your country home and your golden retriever at your feet. I just thought, heck, I would never have the chance to enjoy port if I followed his rules since I have no fireplace, dog or country home. I think people should just follow their fancy and drink whatever they feel like having at the moment. Sometimes, that boils down to whatever's in the wine rack.

Paris Style

Bobby had been wanting to check out the new steak frites place on the East Side, Le Relais de Venise, at 52nd and Lexington. So we went last week with a big group (eight of us strolled right in and sat down at 9:30 on a Wednesday night).
It's an outpost of the original location in Paris, and it's a pretty simple formula. They serve everyone the same salad (greens with a dijon dressing, topped with walnuts), then steak and fries. Dessert and wine are separate, but the main meal is $24 a person, which isn't bad for Manhattan. For me, the only non-meat-eater, there was an extra salad and a cheese plate.
We ordered a red and a white for the table: a 2003 Vincent Lataste Bordeaux Blend 55 (55 percent merlot and 55 percent cabernet sauvignon); this girlish red had notes of apple, and it was a hit around the table. The other bottle was a 2008 Château Caillou du Haut, a white Bordeaux (100 percent sauvignon blanc), which was slightly flowery but had a nice zing. Both were extreme bargains, under $25.
My summary judgment: The food was good, not great; the wine was what it should be, an enjoyable accompaniment to the meal; and the waitress was a crackup, a bossy young thing with a look that shouted Madonna circa 1986 (bleached hair, dark eyebrows). Don't ask for ketchup or she will smack you down.