It's hard to beat the value and quality you get by buying the wines of a European wine-producing country in that country...especially if the country is Spain, France, or Italy.  High quality wines from smaller producers who have no need to spend time marketing their wine for export---and splitting the profits with exporters---are available, and since wine is considered a basic foodstuff, usually taxed far less than if they are exported to the US.  And most wines are the better for not having taken a boat trip across the Atlantic, or even (if you are on the West coast of North America) through the Panama Canal.

This summer I was in Spain at the biennial Quantum Information workshop in Benasque, and had the chance to try some excellent wines, and excellent values for an American even with weak dollar.  Raimat's Viña 32 Cabernet Sauvignon 2005, DO Costers del Segre, from the inland Catalan area of Lleida (aka Lérida, in Castilian Spanish) was "excellent, with red fruits, mildly grainy tannins, fruity, slightly foxy."  It was in the 5-6 Euro range.  This was a solid value, but a better wine was Bodegas Pirineos Merlot-Cabernet 2003 Crianza--Somontano, €8.50 at El Veedor de Viandas in Benasque.  This is from the foothills of the Pirineos near Benasque, and was a very nicely balanced, medium-bodied, easy-to-drink but not too simple wine, with a "combination of red fruits and herbs of the Pyrenees (fantasy?)".  It lacked the "foxiness" mentioned in the Raimat, and the herbal notes leaned toward rosemary, savory, thyme, while otherwise the wine displayed typical cabernet and merlot tastes with a bit of backbone from tannin.

There are plenty of excellent cheeses to be had in Spain---just try out promising-looking ones, especially ones from local producers, in your local cheese store or supermarket cheese section and you'll likely do fine.  One of the several that we tried with these wines was a particular standout.  Quesos de Radiguero's Rio Vero Leche de Cabra, Moho Azul.   This is from Adahuesca in the region of Huesca, a valley or two over from Benasque but futher down, in the mid-altitude foothills of the Pyrenees.  "Moho azul" means "blue mold", not "blue mojo", but mold and mojo are exactly what this cheese has:  it's covered by a finely filamented, live-looking blue-black mold, glistening with drops of moisture.  Inside it's white to lightly straw-colored, parts smoothly creamy but parts with a slight texture like fine ricotta, balanced between runny and firm, with strong, clear, fermented or still-fermenting flavors, perhaps somewhat reminiscent of a creamy Saint Andre but more pungent, almost with hints of Roquefort.  Serious stuff, and seriously fun to scare the squeamish with.   The previous time I was in Benasque, four or so years ago, Robin Blume-Kohout told me that he considers himself a fan of strong, and blue, cheeses, but that the cheese I served at a party that summer was the first cheese he'd encountered that might possibly count as a little too strong, or too blue, for him.  Memory tells me that this cheese, which might have been Cabrales, was wrapped in leaves, something you only find in Spain anymore as it is apparently not legal for the commercial product anymore (EU regulations, no doubt).  Sergio Boixo had some other stuff to tell me about Cabrales production, but  I suspect he was pulling a prank on a credulous foreigner, so I won't repeat it here.