Many things in life are a puzzle to me. Almost everything, in fact. But among the most confounding is the relationship between how wines are rated by critics and how they’re priced in the stores.

Let’s consider ratings first. All the major wine publications, like Wine Spectator, Wine Enthusiast, Decanter and others, have panels of supposed experts who sample hundreds of wines and give them scores on a 100-point scale. Anything below 80 is generally considered not very worthwhile. But when scores get up around 94 and higher, those wines are much to be desired…and much to be paid for.

But is there really a strict relationship between how good a wine is and how much it costs? The answer is…not really. Wines are priced according to many considerations. Makes sense that if you produce 200 cases of a wine you want to charge more for it than if you produced 16,000. Economies of scale, supply and demand, that sort of thing.

But then there’s the marketing angle. A wine is worth what producers say it’s worth…and how much they think they can get for it. Nice heavy bottle, fancy label…kind of like perfume. The market decides. In the case of a so-called “cult” wine, like the famous Screaming Eagle, the combination of quality, rarity, and legend causes collectors to shell out a hefty $750 per bottle, but you’ll never get it at that price because you’re not on the list…or the waiting list…or the waiting list for the waiting list.

As an avid reader of the major wine magazines, I pay special attention to highly-rated wines, and I covet them. (I know…coveting is against the 10th Commandment, but still...) But, as a resource-deprived individual, I pay special attention to the prices. And it simply staggers me that there is so often absolutely no earthly correspondence between what the critics call quality and the price of the bottle.

This hit me pretty hard recently when I was eagerly devouring my latest issue of Wine Spectator. The last 25 or so pages of every issue are devoted to mini-reviews of hundreds of wines, with the points assigned, tasting notes, and prices. I can’t read it without laughing, choking, or suffering some extreme physical reaction. Here’s why.

They listed an Italian wine called Campo Alla Sughera, a somewhat unusual blend of Petit Verdot and Cabernet Sauvignon. Only about 400 cases of the stuff were produced, and it’s priced it at $175 a bottle. The critics gave it 92 points.

Three lines down from that item appears another Italian wine: Mazzei Toscana Badiola. Another red blend, another 92-point rating. The price? $15 a bottle. Fifteen dollars! And to put the cherry on top, they made almost 17,000 cases, so the chances of mortals such as we finding it are pretty darn good.

Another example that caused me a few gastrointestinal eructations: Le Macchiole 2009, made entirely from Merlot. It’s $315 a bottle, and got 93 points. Now look down that same page, where you’ll find Tenuta di Trecciano, also rated 93 points, for which you’d (gladly) pay a mere $30. What’s up with this?

This same disconnect exists throughout the wine world, but is less staggering in some places than others. This is why I seek out wines from relatively unknown or less-than-popular regions, made from grapes that are somewhat off the beaten track. Example: The area of Bandol in France’s Provence region makes great wines from Grenache, Mourvedre, and some other varietals. Since the area isn’t Bordeaux or Tuscany, producers are hard pressed to charge above around $50 a bottle. This same issue of Wine Spectator featured Domaine du Gros Nore Bandol, rated 94 (!) points, for a mere $38 a bottle. Unless I’m completely mistaken, a 94 point Bandol that costs 10% of the price of a 94-point Super Tuscan seems like a better deal. Of course, it all depends on what you like. Many people would pay more for a 91 point Burgundy than a 91-point Zinfandel. Burgundy is Burgundy.

Sample widely.