When I’m on an airplane that is suddenly gripped by turbulence, and the wings seem ready to shake loose at any second, I think first of my family that I will never see again. Next, I think of the “serious,” mostly French wines maturing ever so slowly in my cellar that someone else, maybe a stranger, will get to drink instead of me.

That’s why I’m thankful for Beaujolais Nouveau, which always arrives on the third Thursday in November. This brilliant purple quaffer with nary a sharp edge had better not end up in anyone’s cellar. Harvested a mere two months ago, the 2004 vintage is already at its apogee. Just pull the cork and bring on the steak-frites!

The gift of the French, in my eyes, is their equal cultivation of the cerebral and the sensual. Simone De Beauvoir and Brigette Bardot are both national treasures. So are Chateau Latour and Beaujolais Nouveau. But while the Chateau Latour is pondered reverentially, the Beaujolais Nouveau is for making merry. Here in New York, last Thursday, authentic as well as honorary Frenchmen, members of the local chapter of the “Les Compagnons de Beaujolais,” which exists for no other reason except to drink the stuff, donned bright green aprons, silly boater hats and vests, and sang loudly in praise of their beloved “Beaujo Nouveau.”

And well they might. The 2004 vintage displays the inimitable fresh aromas and dulcet flavors of the low-tannin gamay grape, along with reasonable alcohol in comparison with the muscular, hot summer wines of 2003. “Less richness, more finesse, compared to 2003,” said Franck DuBoeuf, son of Georges DuBoeuf, whose family-owned firm towers above all others in Beaujolais. “Les Vins Georges DuBoeuf” will sell 2.4 million bottles of Beaujolais Nouveau 2004 in America. That’s a 7% increase over 2003,despite a 13% decrease in overall sales of French wine during the last 12 months. Even if we’re ticked off at Jacques Chirac, it’s hard to be mad at Georges DuBoeuf.

For such a light-hearted wine, modern Beaujolais Nouveau has been the target of much sniping by traditionalists. Their historical model is a slightly cloudy and fizzy wine with a brilliant fresh aroma. Its low alcohol of about 11% allowed for numerous refills of one’s glass in bistros from Lyons to Paris, maybe even straight from cask. The French call this wine gouleyant, meaning “easy gulping.”

Thanks to snazzy marketing of Beaujolais Nouveau, including “rush” deliveries on the appointed Thursday to faraway locales, occasionally via elephants and hot air balloons, demand has soared for Beaujolais Nouveau. It now accounts for one third of all Beaujolais sold. To meet demand, growers boosted yields in the vineyard and switched from natural to more productive commercial yeasts. They added sugar to fermenting grapes that may not have been properly ripened, a perfectly legal procedure that raises the alcohol by up to several degrees. Then they fined and filtered the wine until it gleamed. The result could be a wine smelling like banana candy and whose flavor, as wine writer Karen MacNeil aptly puts it, “is a dead ringer for Jell-O.”

Having drunk neither unpasteurized milk straight from the cow nor old-style, unfiltered Beaujolais Nouveau straight from the vineyard, I can’t enter the argument over the “down-home” version versus the sleek export models. But the reality is that we’re never going to taste the old-style Beaujolais Nouveau of blessed memory here. Our modern version arrives by the millions of bottles, first by air and then by sea. It will be clean, brilliant, and stable and, yes, maybe send up a whiff of Jell-O. And that will suit most of us.

Meanwhile, a whole range of other Beaujolais beckons, thanks to six straight excellent vintages, excepting 2001. These wines, released in the spring after the vintage, include regular Beaujolais-Villages and the 10 village wines, or crus. These village wines are considered to have distinctive character, ranging from the lightweight floweriness of Fleurie to the somber fullness of Moulina-Vent. Some say that that hot summer of 2003 produced the greatest Beaujolais crus of our time. Those wines, harvested a full month earlier than normal, are boundingly rich in perfume and fruit intensity. The Beaujolais Nouveau 2003 is gone, but the village bottlings are still widely available.

Those slowly maturing wines that I worry about when the airplane shakes, once they are finally ready for their close-up, show their complex personalities best when sipped quietly at home. Beaujolais Nouveau, on the other hand, is a public wine. It is most in its element, at least for me, when imbibed in a lively bistro. So, last Saturday, I took my family to brunch at Capsouto Freres in TriBeCa, a bastion of Beaujolais. Jacques Capsouto, eldest of the three freres, founded the local chapter of Les Compagnons du Beaujolais, now two years old.

With cream of cauliflower soup, we sipped Beaujolais Blanc, which accounts for a mere 3% of Beaujolais production. Vividly fruited and energetic rather than suave, it had been selected “on site” by Mr. Capsouto. With our main courses, we moved on to a Beaujolais-Villages Nouveau “Chateau de Montmelas” 2004, a wine with a creamy texture as well as the essential bright raspberry fruit. It kept right on delivering with an intense tarte tatin, in keeping with Nouveau’s reputation for partnering well all around.

No major wine importer wants to be left out of the Nouveau tippling season. Wine shops are well stocked with a variety of brands. The differences between them are not so stark as between more serious wines, so my advice is not to obsess over which is best. That said, I’ll list some Beaujolais Nouveau wines that I have enjoyed.

I also recommend the current issue of “The Art of Eating,” a quarterly issued from Vermont by Edward Behr, which is devoted to Beaujolais, and is available for $7.50 at Kitchen Arts & Letters (1435 Lexington Ave., 212-876-5550) or from the publisher (800-495-3944; www.artofeating.com).

Recommended Beaujolais

CHATEAU DE LA GRANDE GRANGE BEAUJOLAISVILLAGES NOUVEAU 2004, GEORGES DUBOEUF ($9.99)

Exactly what the wine is supposed to be and worth an extra dollar or two compared to basic Beaujolais Nouveau, which isn’t quite as intense. At Astor Wines (12 Astor Place, 212-674-7500) and widely available elsewhere.

DOMAINE DE LA MADONE BEAUJOLAIS-VILLAGES NOUVEAU 2004 ($12.99)

Spice and ripe black cherries. Firm, fragrant wine that won’t fade quickly. Last year’s version was the favorite Nouveau of The Wine Spectator. At Crossroads (55 West 14th St.,212-924-3060).

TERRES DOREES “L’ANCIEN” BEAUJOLAIS NOUVEAU VIELLES VIGNES 2004 ($12.99)

In “ancient days,” Beaujolais Nouveau came in at 11% alcohol, as this one does (most current versions are a point or two higher). Gentle wine, with pure but laidback raspberry fruit. Won’t jump out at you, but doesn’t need to. At Acker Merrill & Condit (160 W 72nd St., 212-787-1700).

BERINGER NOUVEAU 2004 ($8.99)

A lively label to compete with DuBoeuf’s flower motifs. And a lively wine pumping out bright cherry flavors. Vinified from Pinot Noir and the little-known Valdiguie grape rather than gamay, this California entry upholds the high spirit of Beaujolais Nouveau. At Zachys (16 East Parkway Scarsdale, 800-723-0241).