I was sitting at the neon-blue wine bar talking to Lefty, the rail-thin, one-armed bartender of Chez Suave, about Oregon pinot noir while I was drinking a refreshing glass of Gloria Ferrer Blanc de Noir, a California sparkling wine made entirely of pinot noir, which was simply delicious.

I was waiting for Talley Ho, a supermodel and master of wine. We were going to go over the wine list for a new restaurant she was opening with Mary Melons and Chef Kenny. It was going to be fine-dining Italian restaurant called The Boot, named after the shape of Italy.

The stunning blonde came into Dali’s restaurant in a tight T-shirt and thousand-dollar blue jeans, holding a cardboard box full of wine samples. After she kissed me on my cheek, we started pulling corks out of the wine samples. Lefty gave us a half dozen polished glasses and a dump bucket.

We started the job of evaluating wine. “I have a dozen Tuscan wines to evaluate,” Talley said. “I want to offer these wines by the glass at very reasonable prices.”

“Well then, I can afford to eat there,” I said.

“Honey, you’re like Mr. Vino – you never pay anywhere you dine,” she responded. That was true. I couldn’t remember the last place I’d dined where I’d actually paid the tab.

Our discussion turned to the philosophy behind the wine list. Instead of matching wines to the food, Chef Kenny decided to create the menu based on the wine list. They also decided to exclude all domestic wines and instead make it a small but very selective Italian list.

Talley was emphatic about that. “I’m tired of seeing the same California wines – Silver Oak cabernet, Cakebread merlot and Sonoma Cutrer chardonnay – everywhere I dine,” she said. “It’s time to do things a little differently and be more creative.”

I couldn’t agree more with Talley’s sentiments and proceeded to pour the first red wine into her glass. It was a chianti classico from Fattoria di Felsina. The wine had a gorgeous bright-red color with hues of midnight. It had notes of plums and berries and a bittersweet finish.

“As you know, I’m a great fan of chianti classico,” Talley said. “It is the best medium-bodied red wine in the world. It expresses the nuances of sangiovese without the heaviness of too much oak aging, like chianti classico riserva, which I feel interferes with the smoothness and beauty of the flavor profile.”

Though I hated to disagree with the beautiful wine master, I shook my head. “I do agree with you that chianti classico is a gorgeous expression of the sangiovese grape,” I began, “but chianti classico riserva has a richness to it, like dark-plum pudding, that explodes on the palate and is wonderful with heavier foods.”

With that, Talley poured a chianti classico riserva, the Felsina Rancia, as Lefty brought bread, olive oil and cheese to our table, which was most welcome. “This wine is a dark expression of sangiovese,” she said. “Some of the vines were planted in 1958, so it has that kind of extraction from old vines.”

Talley nibbled on a piece of cheese, then sniffed and rolled the wine in her mouth. She swallowed and said: “As wonderful as this wine is, I still disagree with you. The wine is just too heavy for the grape varietal and diminishes the aromatic nuances of sangiovese. It just gets lost in the oak.”

I decided to change the subject. “Let’s try the Felsina Fontalloro, a single-vineyard wine,” I said. “It’s a classic old-world wine done in a new-world style; 50-year-old and older sangiovese vines aged in small oak barrels for over 18 months.”

I could tell that Talley was excited by the brilliance of the color. “What a beautiful ruby-red,” she said. “It has a gemlike quality in its hue.” She put her pretty, pointed nose in the glass and sniffed. “I smell earth and spice,” she said. “I taste berries and leather. What a wine!”

“I taste sweet cherry fruit and chewy tannins,” I chimed in. “Excellent Tuscan wine.”

Lefty came over and asked for a taste of the Fontalloro. Talley gave him a large pour. “Hot damn, that’s good!” he said.

Talley looked squarely at me with her blue eyes and said: “Although I like the Fontalloro, it really doesn’t reflect old-world style. With the brightness of the fruit, this wine could have come from Napa’s Stags Leap district.”

I nodded my head in agreement. “You’re right, and that is the intent – to appeal to a new-world palate, which enjoys the big fruit extraction,” I said. “Tuscan wines have to compete in the world market, and there is no question that this style of wine is popular.”