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`In 19th-century France, it was common to pair raw oysters with - care to guess? - Sauternes. Yes, a "dessert" wine. That the combination today would elicit gasps of horror from most Canadian wine sophisticates reveals just how far the pendulum has swung away from sweetness.

When it comes to wine, Canada is a dry nation, so to speak.

This is ironic, of course, given this country's estimable reputation for icewine, the intensely sweet nectar made from frozen, dehydrated grapes, much of which, tellingly, is shipped overseas.

I'm not about to recommend icewine with oysters. Even I, a Sauternes enthusiast, prefer bone-dry muscadet, Chablis or even Guinness with raw shellfish.

But our modern obsession with dryness - whether calorie-driven or the product of a skewed association with refinement - has blinded us to the fact that many of the world's most complex and mesmerizing wines are decidedly undry.

Besides Sauternes and icewine, these sticky charmers include Tokaji from Hungary, trockenbeerenauslese from Germany, sweet Vouvray from the Loire Valley of France, red Port from Portugal, sweet sherry from Spain and an array of well-priced, late-harvest wines from such places as Alsace, Australia, British Columbia and Ontario. And let's not forget ice cider from Quebec, which is technically not a wine but a magical experience nonetheless.

Good sweet wines always strike a balance between sugar and lively, palate-cleansing acidity. It's a yin-yang used by skilled chefs that has its archetype in natural temptations such as apples, peaches and, the source of wine itself, grapes. A good dessert wine should be balanced enough to be its own dessert, but the beverage's acidity and complex flavours can lift many merely edible desserts, especially the same-old, same-old holiday offerings, to a higher level.

To spare myself calorie and alcohol overload, I relied for some of the following holiday-pairing suggestions on the wisdom of two experts, Joanne Yolles, an esteemed pastry chef, and sommelier Peter Boyd, both of Scaramouche restaurant in Toronto.

There is just one cardinal rule for dessert pairing: Make sure the wine is sweeter than the dish. If drier, the wine will taste thin.

If I had to nominate a single wine style as an all-round choice for dessert, it would be a red icewine or late-harvest wine from Canada. Most sweet wines, whether white or red, fall into the late-harvest category. Grapes are left to wither on the vine until weeks or months after the normal harvest, then pressed into a supersweet must for fermentation. In fermentation, the yeast typically die off before they can finish the job of devouring and converting all the sugar into alcohol. What's left is known as "residual" sugar.

Icewine, in essence, is an extreme form of late-harvest wine, pressed from intensely concentrated berries left to raisin and freeze on the vine typically till late December or January.

In some regions, notably Sauternes in Bordeaux, the grapes can become riddled with a benevolent fungus that pierces the skins and accelerates dehydration in a process known as noble rot.

What's different about red late-harvest wines is simple: the grape varieties. Typically, dessert wines are made from white grapes, such as sémillon and riesling, which tend to imbue the wines with citrus and stone fruit flavours of apricot and peach. But many Canadian producers in particular have seized on red grapes such as cabernet franc and cabernet sauvignon to give their wines a festive colour and more of a berry essence. They are season's greetings in a glass.

Red late-harvest wine or icewine is uncommonly good with most desserts featuring chocolate, traditionally a problematic ingredient for most wines, including Sauternes. Look for producers such as Stratus, Jackson-Triggs, Cave Spring and Malivoire from Ontario and Gehringer Brothers, Lang Vineyards and Summerhill Pyramid in British Columbia. These crimson wines are also nice with tough-to-pair berry-flavoured desserts, such as Ms. Yolles's artful new seasonal addition to the Scaramouche menu, a layered, frozen cranberry parfait.

A glass of electric-red sweet wine is a nice way to accessorize an otherwise potentially dull slice of Christmas cake, but a more classic and appropriate match is red Port. Port represents a significant exception to the late-harvest method. It's a fortified wine made by arresting fermentation halfway through by adding a high-alcohol spirit, which fatally poisons the yeast before it can finish its job. What's left is a sort of half-strength brandy combined with a half-fermented wine.

For Christmas cake, Mr. Boyd also recommends sweet muscat-based wines, such as Moscatel de Setubal from Portugal. But if the cake itself has been premoistened with whisky or rum, I suggest carrying the theme through with the same beverage.

Mr. Boyd also favours distilled spirits, rather than wine, for traditional plum pudding, the boiled, Dickensian dessert involving dried fruit, spirits and suet. Rum works particularly well because of its vague molasses-like character. A superb choice available now in several provinces is El Dorado 15-year-old rum from Guyana ($59.75 in Ontario). Also smart, Mr. Boyd says, is a good Cognac or Armagnac. My current high-end choice: François Voyer XO Cognac ($179.95 in Ontario).

For mincemeat, a mixture of chopped dried fruit, distilled spirits and spices often bundled into pastry dough, Port once again takes top billing; ideally, Mr. Boyd says, a young tawny such as a 10-year-old.

Gourmet stores and even many supermarkets today are brimming with panettone, the airy, high-rise Italian fruitcake. I don't know who besides me and my extended family actually eats these things because I've never see them outside of my home or the stores. But I'm going on faith here. So, here's the pairing: vin santo. Classic panettone, which is to say the plain kind with no icing or imitation-chocolate coating, is great with the traditional, rust-coloured "holy wine" of Tuscany. It also works nicely with Moscato d'Asti, a low-alcohol, slightly spritzy wine from Piedmont.

Gingerbread, though seasonal, tends to be aimed at minors, so the question of wine rarely arises. But I'm eager to cite Mr. Boyd's suggested pairing because it's another reason to drink arguably the most underrated sweet wines on Earth, those of Alsace, spiritual home of the late-harvest winemaking. The white vendange tardive wines of Alsace usually aren't very sweet, but they often are so syrupy as to make you believe they are, with long-lasting and slowly unfolding layers of flavour that can include suggestions of apricot, honey, citrus and flowers.

This year's trendy chefs' dessert is panna cotta, essentially flavoured cream that's been made semi-firm with the addition of gelatin. "I think it's almost replacing crème brûlée in a way," Ms. Yolles said. "I'd like to see that."

Best of all, it's easy to make at home and involves no baking. You can even use espresso cups or ramekins as single-serving moulds and serve it in the crockery, Ms. Yolles says.

Because panna cotta tends to be served with fruit, it should be served with wines, such as a late-harvest red wine from Canada, that complement this secondary element.

Video

Bubbly three ways: Just in time for the holidays, Beppi Crosariol tells you everything you need to know about the festive aperitif. globeandmail.com/life