You Shouldn’t Be Drinking Wine This Thanksgiving—Just Kidding! My Picks for the Big Meal and Beyond
“Wine is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.” —Benjamin Franklin
Wine at Thanksgiving, what could be more comforting and enlivening? Somewhere between deciding who’s carving the turkey and whether we really need marshmallows on the sweet potatoes, some self-appointed puritan puts their nose in the air, not for the bouquet of the white Burgundy you just opened, but to be “above” your wine drinking habit. "It’s a slippery slope," they warn.
Slippery into what? Joy? Some lighthearted revelry amid the cranberries and chaos? If you’re going to make it through Uncle Bob’s political rant or Aunt Linda’s passive-aggressive critique of your gravy, you deserve a glass of something delightful.
Here’s my wine picks for Thanksgiving dinner this year and the winter ahead. I’ve chosen wines that are all available on wine.com (as well as other online outlets such as K&L and Kermit Lynch), wines that can fit in anyone’s budget, and I'm putting out this blog earlier in the week in time for getting a last minute shipment. Wine naysayers be damned.
1. Petite Royal Seyssel Sparkling Wine (Savoie, France)
The wines of the Savoie are my wines of the year in 2024. Is this because I’m adapting to my new mountain home? The sparkler from Lambert de Seyssel has the typical alpine clarity and bright freshness refined further with bubbles. Look for notes of white flowers, green apple, and a hint of honey. This is a delicate and aromatic sparkling wine made from Altesse and Molette grapes, elegant and very approachable.
It is ideal for starting your Thanksgiving celebration. Pair it with smoked salmon, light hors d’oeuvres, or even a creamy pumpkin soup. Its floral and crisp profile also makes it a delightful match for apple tart. That’s also a new thing for me this year. Going back to the bubbly after dinner.
Where to Buy: Wine.com, $21.99
2. Roland Lavantureux Petite Chablis (Chardonnay, Burgundy, France)
This Chablis is as crisp and bright as the frost on Thanksgiving morning. Expect Granny Smith apple, lemon zest, and minerality in a glass. It’s like sending your taste buds on a quick trip to a French vineyard before they return to your chaotic dining room.
Pair this wine with some cheese before the meal, or welcome it in with the main course of Turkey, gravy, and buttery mashed potatoes. Its lively acidity keeps things fresh and fabulous. Even the guest seated next to you.
Where to Buy: Wine.com, $34.99
3. Bernard Baudry “Les Grézeaux” Chinon (Cabernet Franc, Loire Valley, France)
We’ve had a cold November here in Utah. When I’m lighting a fire each day, I go for wood in the garage and Chinon from the cellar. (Not always at the same time.) This wine will put resolve in your spine, a smile on your face, and a little extra supercharge of magic to carry you through. Who says the sun is not available in November? Chinon boasts not only warmth, but lots of earth and smoke—something complex for the novelist at your Friendsgiving--except it actually delivers. Blackberry, bell pepper, and graphite make this Cabernet Franc a regular at my place each winter. Continue to enjoy through February.
If this is a cold Thanksgiving at your place as well, this is the right wine for the turkey with crispy skin, mushroom stuffing, or that wild rice dish your vegan cousin brought (yes, it’s shockingly good).
Where to Buy: Wine.com, $24.99
4. Hundred Suns Willamette Valley Gamay Noir (Oregon, USA)
Most wine folks will recommend Pinot Noir for the turkey meal. I couldn’t agree more, and I suggest one from Oregon’s Willamette Valley. They’re food wines. Furthermore, I’d urge you to consider this Gamay, Pinot Noir’s cool younger sibling. Juicy cherry, tangy cranberry, and a whisper of spice will highlight the kaleidoscope of flavors at your table.
Whether it’s the glazed carrots or the cranberry sauce, this red’s light body and friendly demeanor are as adaptable as your youngest cousin volunteering to “help” with dessert.
Where to Buy: Wine.com, $34.99
Up for a Side of Snark?
Let’s address the real turkey in the room. I’ve heard from several friends that they are not drinking at the Thanksgiving meal this year. One of my close friends—who I adore—recently suggested that my love of wine is a problem. “Has your doctor ever recommended you drink wine? It’s not good for your health.” What a bunch of gobble gobble goo!
This! from Fyodor Dostoevsky.
Oh, tell me, who was it first announced, who was it first proclaimed, that man does nasty things only because he does not know his own interests; and that if he were enlightened, if his eyes were opened to his real, normal interests, man would at once cease to do nasty things, would at once become good and noble because, being enlightened and understanding his real advantage, he would see his own advantage in the good and nothing else? Oh, the babe! Oh, the pure, innocent child!
I’m engaging in a thoughtful, celebratory tradition. Like Thomas Jefferson, I choose my pleasures intentionally. Jefferson famously called wine “a necessity of life.” He believed wine added depth to meals and meaning to our days.
By the way, Jefferson died at 83. And he wrote the Declaration of Independence. Not a bad read.
Here’s the real kicker—this friend doesn’t believe in free will. According to his philosophical worldview, every choice I make is not a choice but just an illusion of a choice. In fact, it was decided long ago in the formation of the universe or it came about by random chaotic chance.
So I ask, why bother intervening? If I don’t have agency, isn’t my wine-drinking fate as unchangeable as the Thanksgiving menu?
Let’s finish by thinking about what Thanksgiving is really about: connection, gratitude, and yes, indulgence. I’m grateful to be alive this year and part of the wonder of it all.
To be true to the intention of this good friend of mine, let’s consider moderation and whether we might feel better without a drink. There is a place for sobriety. But if a glass of wine enhances your enjoyment of the holiday, as it does mine, then let’s raise a toast. To life, to health, to family and, yes, to friends sober and jolly, and to free will—or whatever you believe is leading you to that next delightful sip.
Cheers!