Pairing Off: Remember pigs in a blanket? Well there's a wine that goes with them.

Let’s say you are Darrin Stephens or Rob Petrie and you’ve invited the gang over for casual hors d’oeuvres. Samantha and Laura would be doing the work—it’s the ’60s, after all. Yeah, Sam could just conjure up a spell, but you know what would be on both menus.

Yes, celery sticks filled with cream cheese. But there’s another classic, also relegated to the bin of culinary regret: pigs in a blanket.

Cocktail sausages tucked into biscuit dough or flaky puff pastry were ubiquitous when carpets were shag and refrigerators came in flavorful hues like avocado. It’s almost depressing to imagine the wine available at such parties. Riunite on ice?

Pigs in a blanket never went away, really. Martha Stewart has a frozen version that requires assembly. Riunite may still be around, but we’re not sinking to that level. Not yet, anyway.

So in the 2020s, which wine would pair well with roll your own pigs in a blanket?

“Oh my gosh,” says Kerry Winslow of Windy Oaks in Carmel Valley, wincing a bit.

Despite the Martha Stewart lineage, the pigs in a blanket are, well, what they are—handy snacks not given to pretense. The puff pastry is mellow, a little nutty, the cocktail sausages equally mild with a gentle tang and puff of smoke.

“You want a country-style wine with some nice fruit to it,” Winslow decides. “Something you can have fun with without spending too much.”

It’s fair to guess that the deeply knowledgeable wine educator has never ventured into pigs in a blanket territory. But he says pigs should fancy Rhone blends. He recommends a wine from I.Brand & Family’s Le P’tit Paysan line labeled P’tit Pape—“a great wine”—and the 2018 Cote du Crow’s from Morgan, which happened to be in stock at A Taste of Monterey on Cannery Row.

Cote du Crow’s is a happy wine, springing from the glass with aromas of blueberry, strawberry and plum. Gruffer notes of dried herbs and leather are almost reluctant to join the olfactory party. It’s fruit forward on the palate, as well, with a jammy freshness, with a squeeze of citrus on the finish balanced by an herbal blend and supple suede.

Despite its value—around $22—it’s a wine made with great care. The blend of 66 percent Grenache, 31 percent Syrah and a splash of Tempranillo ferments in open top tanks, punched down by hand and then rests in French oak, just 7 percent new.

“It goes with everything,” Winslow observes.

Indeed, it holds up well to pigs in a blanket, so he’s probably right. The wine becomes richer, duskier, but with a burst of bright fruit on the finish and a trace of spice that hadn’t appeared when tasted on its own. It finds a malty note in the pastry, too, giving the classic cocktail weenies a sweet side.

Serve this to Larry Tate and that raise is yours.