Here’s a Greek wine that makes me want to hold my glass out for more, rather than throw it in the fire: Manousakis Nostos 2003, a red blend from a mountainside vineyard on Crete, rocked a recent dinner we enjoyed at the San Francisco Hellenic institution Kokkari Estiatorio.

For the story behind our encounter with this wine, including a discouraging footnote about its markup, click here:

We were initially intrigued by the Nostos because as the sommelier described the wine, I recognized it immediately as a Côtes du Rhône knock-off. Now, I confess it took me a while in my career as a wine lover to be able to detect, never mind to pronounce the grapes native to the Rhone river valley in France. But it’s going to take me a lot longer to do the same with the homegrown Greek varietals. For example, have you tried to order a nice Agiorghitiko to go with your moussaka lately? If you have, you’re a braver woman than I. (Just for kicks, wrap your tongue around “eye-your-YEE-tee-koh.”) So when I heard the wine steward say the Nostos was made from the holy Rhone trinity of syrah, grenache, and mourvedre, my mind grasped the remotely familiar and I cried out, “We’ll take it!”

We were very happy with our choice. The Nostos displayed the fruity and peppery characteristics of a classic Côtes du Rhône, but with a drum-tight structure and a depth that belied, perhaps, its origins on a sun-baked cliff overlooking the Mediterranean. It felt clean and fresh on the palate, and had a long, satisfying finish. Overall, I was amazed at how well-made the wine came off, especially since Greek wines have a reputation for being rustic. But the Nostos had some complexity (ripe bing cherry flavors, plum, and was that black olive, or did it come from the dressing on my perfectly-roasted whole sea bass?) and a lot of class.

The only problem is, I was annoyed to find out later that whereas I paid $60 for the Nostos at Kokkari, it should retail for about $20. I felt stung. Why the excessive markup? Shouldn’t Kokkari promote the Greek wines on its list by marking them up at less than the usual 100 percent over retail? In a world populated by people like me who are afraid of Greek wines, wouldn’t this help us work through our issues?

The answer is yes, of course. But then I realized too that I had fallen victim to a very common scheme at restaurants, which is to price the more familiar wines on the list well above the typical markup, knowing that the nervous boobs who come in will go right for the comfort zone — and shell out whatever is necessary for it. And that was exactly my story! Because it was similar to my beloved wines from the south of France, I went for the Nostos, and like Odysseus among the Lotus-eaters I was fat and happy, until I realized the price (literally) I was paying.

Next time at Kokkari, my fellow diners will have to tie me to the mast and force me to stay on my oenological course: to memorize and practice pronouncing the names of Greek grape varieties, and to order an unfamiliar, even more truly Greek wine — not to mention save my drachmas.