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After learning to appreciate fine French wine, I sometimes wonder if the whole exercise was a good buzz spoiled.

For years, I prided myself on not spending more than $10 or $15 on a bottle, and often less than that.

Then I decided to retrieve the French I had learned as a young man. I listened to French radio on the internet. And I began weekly breakfasts with a French friend, Patrick, that continue to this day.

Patrick had a cellar full of French wine, much of it good stuff. He had his own way of finding wine. He didnt pay much attention to the hype for specific vintages that floods the internet these days.

Instead, he kept track of the good years for wine production in prime growing areas like Burgundy or Bordeaux. When he spotted attractively priced wine from a good vineyard in a good year, hed buy a case of it.

Following his example, I began buying wine. I never went wild. The bulk of my wine was acquired at $15 to $30 a bottle. But I paid as much as $60 for a few bottles, something the old me never would have done.

Ive put the brakes on my wine buying in the past year. Part of it was a health concern. My doctor told me to cool it on acidic foods and drink. Wine, alas, is quite acidic. I still drink it but only for special meals (or when in France).

Money is another factor. Now that Im working part time in retirement, Im trying to slash costs where possible. Wine is expensive. At a fancy dinner, the wine frequently costs more than the food. This makes no sense.

But the biggest reason Ive stopped buying fancy wine is more basic. It wasnt clear to me that I really know the difference between the good and the great when it comes to the grape.

This spring, I drove around France with another French friend, Mathieu. Our best meal came in Lyon. We ate at a bouchon, one of the traditional Lyonnaise restaurants that specialize in hearty fare. It had a sign on its door proclaiming it opened at noon, and that if customers were in a hurry to eat, they should go elsewhere.

While we were pondering this, the door opened, and a disheveled man clutching a mug of coffee stepped outside. He said the restaurant normally required reservations, but since there were only two of us, he would make an exception.

Good thing. The meal was superb. It started out with grilled pigs feet and a huge block of pt that went from table to table. Then came a quenelle de brochet, or loaf made from fish, and a pot full of lentils and sausage.

We drank a table wine that the restaurant gave us for no charge. It was a local vintage made from the same Gamay grape as Beaojolais. It couldnt have been better.

From then on, I stopped fretting about the wine list in French restaurants. I usually ask for a glass of red or white, depending on what Im eating. The waiter almost always brings me something that does the job.

The French can be unromantic about wine. In 1976, I spent a month living with a couple, friends of my French grandmother, who lived north of Paris. The man, a retired stone mason, bought his wine in bulk for a few francs a bottle. He drank it mixed half and half with water. Drinking wine for him seemed as essential as breathing and about as fancy.

Patrick is a different breed. He has a T-shirt proclaiming: Life is too short for bad wine.

That doesnt necessarily mean expensive wine. He is clever about finding good wines at a cheap price. Several years ago, he was buying a surprising good 2005 Margaux for $25 a bottle produced by a famous vineyard under a different label. It was the equivalent of buying clothes at Nordstrom Rack.

My new bottom line is that almost any wine shared among good friends is a good wine. It doesnt particularly matter if the sharing concerns a $10 bottle or $100 bottle.

Questions? Comments Write to us at retirement@barrons.com

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Evolution of a Semi-Retired Oenophile: Its the People You Drink With, Not the Price, That Matters - Barron's