After our son Colin was born, in January 1983, I began a search for a red wine that I could buy from that year, then cellar for a while and begin drinking for special occasions in his life.

Worldwide, the vintage of 1983 was spotty. Some nice Tuscans came of it; vintage port was killer. (I bought a few bottles of Graham’s ’83 and a magnum of Smith-Woodhouse ’83.)

But the red wine most everyone looks to age and use to celebrate — red Bordeaux — didn’t deliver in 1983. Rot set in during a hot and rainy August; vines were overcropped and their grapes dilute.

However, because of careful vineyard work and assiduous harvesting, Chateau Margaux produced what many came to say was the best of red Bordeaux in 1983.

So I bought a case of it, cost me something like $500 total for the 12 bottles. (If you can find 1983 Chateau Margaux now, at auction perhaps, it fetches $500-$600 a bottle.) I remember the first bottle, for Colin’s first communion; we said goodbye to the wine and the 12th bottle on his 21st birthday.

It was a great ride.

But the important lesson I learned from this experience, about wine in general, was that pearls are to be found in every box on the vintage chart, notwithstanding the claim that certain years, in certain places, are “off” or “bad” or “difficult.”

We have a fetish about wine vintages, always asking “Was that a good year?” Good for what?

I am a bit of a Father Flanagan of wine, believing that there is no such thing as a bad wine. At the very least, use it for a braise.

Vintages matter, surely, but not so much as we might think. Advances in viticulture and winemaking deal with problems nowadays that would have befuddled or ruined winemaking in the past. And the nature of the international wine market simply disallows truly awful wine to be set on the shelf.

Combined with global warming and consequent even ripening of grapes, winemaking of especially red wine is so skilled that “vintages of the century” now occur in places like Bordeaux and Napa Valley every two or three years.

This causes a weird “vintage shadow” for those years that follow such excellencies. For instance, some people do not think highly of the 2008 Napa cabernet sauvignons because the 2007s were off-the-chart fantastic. But when considered outside of the shadow of the 2007s, the 2008s are terrific wines. It is the same for many red Bordeaux from 2001 (following 2000), 2004 (following 2003) or 2006 (following 2005).

It’s also possible to tick off many positive aspects of wines from so-called off vintages. They’re usually cheaper than wines that preceded them from the great years. They’re more accessible, by and large, and ready to drink presently. Wines from highly ranked years tend to be backward and in need of cellar time to soften up all their tannin and work down their baby fat.

Wines from off years are also more everyday wines, a red for Wednesday dinner rather than a star for a Saturday fete. Lighter, less concentrated, softer and less impressive, they accompany the kinds of eats most of us have most of the time. A prime porterhouse and a Napa cab every night could actually become tiresome.

Weaker vintages, especially those harvests that culminate in a cool, difficult growing season, also tend to turn out extraordinarily aromatic wines, far more layered in perfumes than the monolithic fruit we get from the great year. A recent tasting I held of red wines from several countries showed this; some of the aromas sated enough that the weaker structure of the wine on the palate was welcome, in its way.

Here are notes on some of those wines, all recommended for their own individual strengths.

2002 Lopez de Heredia Rioja Vina Tondonia, Rioja, Spain: Rankings for 2002 red Rioja were as low as two out of five stars (against 5/5 for 2001), but this is a gorgeous wine, especially if aerated for several hours: lots of cherry and vanilla on the nose, with silky, fine tannin and a never-ending finish. $45

2006 Chateau Lagrange St. Julien, Bordeaux, France: The 2005 Lagrange costs up to $90 a bottle, but for two-thirds of that you can have this delicious St. Julien: buckets of dark fruit very tenderly and stylishly rendered. Indeed, the elegance of this wine is its greatest asset. $50-$60

2011 Stoller Family Estate Pinot Noir Reserve, Dundee Hills, Ore.: The coldest growing season in decades in Oregon doesn't allow for much mouth feel or concentration of fruit in this wine, but back off your nose or risk a friendly assault of waves of wonderful perfumes (black cherry, hibiscus, thyme, tea leaf and brown baking spices). $40-$45

1996 Les Fiefs de Lagrange St. Julien, Bordeaux, France: This is Lagrange's "second" (or, some say, "lesser") wine and should in no way have lasted this long. But very careful selection in 1996 gave it stuffing from the get-go, and it has matured into a great beauty of a red: gorgeous bouquet, many layered and generous, followed by soft, elegant, lengthily flavored fruit. $35

If your wine store does not carry these wines, ask for one similar in style and price.