Roussanne

What a busy time of year. Christmas day was conducted at a very relaxed pace, with only four of us gathered around the seasonal feast, which somehow was cooked and eaten rather more efficiently than the average Sunday roast and not because any of the trimmings were overlooked.

At some point during the period between Christmas Eve and today, the contents of this bottle were polished off.

Week R (2015) Charles Back Stonedance Roussanne, 2014. M&S £10.

And very nice they were, too. Roussanne is a grape from the Rhone valley where it is often blended either with other white grapes, typically Marsanne, or red grapes such as Syrah, Grenache and Mourvedre. Here it appears as a single varietal wine but, rather than coming from the Rhone, or anywhere else in France, this was made in South Africa around the city of Paarl.

It is a medium bodied, aromatic wine with a nice oily mouthfeel. It has quite intense flavours of peach, pear and apple and hints of something herbal. M&S say fennel, but I wouldn't swear to that.

It has moderate levels of acidity and a finish that lasts very well. A small proportion of the wine has been matured in oak, but that does not really make its presence felt to any obtrusive degree.

All in all, this is a pleasing wine and I think it could well become a bit of a banker. I have had few other experiences of Roussanne but all of those that I can remember have been enjoyable.

Quetzal

My father was a keen ornithologist and would take me out to bird reserves at almost any opportunity during my formative years. I enjoyed this greatly and inherited through these outings a love, albeit less passionate than my father's', of all things feathered. In my case this includes duvets.

Probably because of this early exposure to birds that many people will never encounter during their entire lifetimes, when at the age of ten I was asked along with all of my classmates to supply one question and answer for a general knowledge quiz and thought 'what is an Andalusian Hemipode?' to be a resonable contribution. My father was very proud. My teacher disallowed the question, probably because she couldn't tell whether the answer I supplied was correct or not.

This week we have a wine branded with the name of another bird not native to these shores.

Week Q (2015) Quetzal Malbec, Baja California 2014. M&S £8.50

The Quetzal is a colourful chap found in central America and if we're not for him it is unlikely that I would have picked a wine made in Mexico.

Wine education courses teach that the majority of wine grapes are grown between latitudes of 30 - 50 degrees North or South of the equator, as outside these ranges the climate is unsuitable by being either too hot or too cold. Mexico city is around 19 degrees North and far too hot, however, Mexico is a a big country and in its northern most parts, including the peninsula of Baja California, the climate is much more hospitable. So that is where the grapes for this wine grew.

It is a blend of two varieties, one well known and the other less so. They both originated in Bordeaux, but one has become more widely known than the other. It is 90% Malbec, now most famous in Argentina, and 10% Petit Verdot.  It tastes very acceptably like similar blends or at least like other Malbecs from other places and I was pleasantly surprised as I suspected it may have been a bit rough. More prejudice, I am ashamed to admit. I can't say it has much 'spirit of place' about it, but for the price and the interest value of it coming from Mexico then I am happy.
Based on this experience I would be happy to try other Mexican wines, but my socks have not been blown off with the intensity of this first encounter.

Many years after my primary school quiz experience I was reprimanded by a lecturer (that's what they called the teachers at West Kent College) in Communications (that's what they called English....) for answering a general knowledge question 'who was William Morris?' by correctly describing him as a wallpaper designer. I have always enjoyed the obscure.

Pouilly Fuisse

We have enjoyed a couple of white wines form the Maconnais this year, so here is another!


Week P (2015) Marc Dudet Pouilly-Fuisse, 2009. Waitrose £14.99

This one comes at a premium price because it comes from a specific village, Pouilly-Fuisse, which is generally considered to be in the best part of the region for producing good wines.

It is 100% Chardonnay, once again proving the 'anything but Chardonnay' crowd to be small-mindedly misguided, and delivers an experience to please many of our senses.

It looks pleasingly golden and bright. It smells beautifully aromatic and shows peach, pear and hints of vanilla. It tastes as good as it smells and feels full and rich in the mouth with some creamy notes backing up the fruit.

Its finish is long and lingering and has some of the 'minerality' that wine type bang on about.

I chose this one to compare with the Macon Village we had in week M (2015) and also the Uchizy we had in week U (2015). They cost £9 and £11 respectively, so this week's wine is expensive by comparison. The producer hasn't provided any information about the methods of production used, the vineyards sites from which the grapes have been harvested or, indeed, anything at all that would justify the higher price. This leaves us to rely on the most important criterion; what do I think?

Well, I do like it and I would buy this if I wanted to be i) reasonably certain that my guests would enjoy the wine and ii) a bit pretentious, but I can't say that the difference from the other regional wines we tried earlier was so distinct that my enjoyment of either of them would be spoiled now that I know what and extra fiver could have provided. 

Ogio

One to test the prejudices today.

As an explorer, keen to keep learning about what makes wine enjoyable for me and what might make it enjoyable for others, I sometimes have to remind myself not to get stuck in any ruts of my own making and only explore those bottles that fit some unspecified but constraining criteria.

One such criterion could be that a wine has to have something that makes it unusual to qualify it for selection. Whilst I have become something of a fan of Marks & Spencer, especially the Simply Food branch in Tring because they stock such a wide range for such a small shop, I don't feel the same way about Tesco. They have, I think, a smaller and certainly less diverse range and have to carry the baggage of being, well, Tesco.

However, a red wine with a strong enough connection to the letter 'O' to qualify for selection is proving hard to find and the day job is doing as good a job of competing for my attention as my two cats usually do when I am trying to read (or type this pointless stuff) that I needed to get on with it and overcome my probably irrational instincts.

Week O (2015) Ogio Primitivo 2014. Tesco £5.50.

First thing to notice is that there hardly any information on the bottle. This usually makes me suspicious but, when studying with WSET, I once undertook an assignment to assess what differentiates 'good' from'bad' wine labeling and I used a very acceptable red Burgundy as the example of 'bad', for exactly the reason that the producer appeared to expect wine drinkers to know everything they should need to know from the word 'Bourgogne'.

In this case there is a bit more on the back label (the Bourogne just had a bar code) and tells the buyer to expect spicy blackcurrant, raspberry and a smooth velvety finish and, to be fair, that's probably all you need to know if you are picking a bottle from the bottom of the wine wall. The name itself reveals the variety ss Primitivo, a red grape known in Califorinia as Zinfandel.

Does it live up to its own billing? Yes, it does. It is a good example of a well made but inexpensive wine. It tastes of what it claims to taste of, doesn't have rough or unripe tannins, isn't either mouth burning with alcohol or mouth stinging with acidity. On the down side, it isn't complex, is of a medium everything from body to finish and doesn't make me want to call or text any of my virtual friends (I don't mean 'on-line' friends, I mean most of them don't actually exist) to encourage them to try it.


A little research on the Tesco website revealed an honest marketing description that declares the wine by suggesting 'served with a big plate of pasta, this is hard to beat' and that it is 'utterly made for TV dinners'. Spot on, I think. My tasting panel and I had this with Liver & Bacon, mashed potato and onions. I liked it, but neither of my associates passed any comment. Always a clue.

Finally, I notice that it was credited to a winemaker named Alessandro Botter, whose business is mostly concerned with bottling, appropriately.  

Neuberger

I am quite pleased that this week I have been able to return, probably briefly, to the original premise of this exercise, which was to select one wine a week based on the initial letter of the name of the principal grape whose juice has ended up in the bottle. As I am on lap five of the alphabet this is becoming harder to achieve, especially for some colour and letter combinations. There are few white grapes with names starting with an 'N' and most of them are not exactly mainstream, which makes this find all the more satisfying.

Week N (2015) Markus Altenberger, Neuberger Reserve 2013. Newcomer Wines £15.90.

I have twice before found my wine of the week at Newcomer Wines, the wine store in a shipping container at the trendy Shoreditch Boxpark that specialises in wines from Austria. The first two were very good.

This is made by Markus Altenberger in his family winery in the village of Jois that can be found in the East Austrian state of Burgenland which describes itself as the sunny side of Austria. Jois itself can be found to the North of the large inland lake the Neusiedler See, relatively close to the borders with both Slovakia and Hungary.

The Neuberger grape is  is a crossing between Roter Veltliner (surprisingly, no relation to the fashionable Gruner Veltliner which is Austria's most widely planted) and Sylvaner. It is an early ripening variety and this gives it the chance to develop relatively high must weight, or sugar content if you would prefer me to be patronising, compared to its parents.

This is the first Neuburger I have tasted, I think, and I was offered the opportunity to spend another £10 to try 'a really top end' version, but I thought it sensible to start at a price point that should provide the producer with enough return to take care and do a good job.

The producer's own notes refer to a sallty finish and after my second taste (glass) I was beginning to understand what they mean. It is certainly dry and quite rich, underpinned with good acidity and a noticeable influence of the seven months it had spent in 500 litre barrels.

The senior member of my tasting panel told me that it cleansed her palate efficiently after she had demolished the smoky bacon quiche that the management had provided by way of a light luncheon. I would agree that it has that ability, but for me it is a little 'austere' (popular word, these days) and for that reason alone unlikely to become a regular purchase. I did enjoy it and it is different from so many of the indentikit wines that frequently fall into the shopping trolley and, therefore, I will keep it in mind for the right occasion.

Merlot

There are a few good films with wine-related themes and most people will have heard of Sideways which is not about wine but it is certainly a theme. One of the two main characters is a dedicated wine enthusiast with clearly defined tastes. It is said that this film was responsible for damaging the US sales of Merlot after Miles, the character in question, declares passionately '...if anyone orders Merlot, I'm leaving. I am not drinking any f*****g Merlot!'

Week M (2015) Casillero del Diabolo, Merlot. 2014. Tesco £8.

So, does it deserve that reaction? No.

Merlot is one of the great grapes of Bordeaux where it contributes soft fruity tones to blends with Cabernet Sauvignon which provides more tannin. This wine is a pure varietal with 100% Merlot and comes from the Rapel Valley of Chile. This is around the middle of the long Chilean wine region, slightly to the South of the mid-point.

The climate is moderated by proximity to the Pacific coast and, therefore, cooler than other parts of the country. This is well suited to the production of a modern style of Merlot which is very easy to drink, not overly complex and has levels of tannin that provide some structure but don't dry your mouth.

There are more interesting Merlots, or Merlot based blends (see Week P (2015)), but this is definitely a good value, pleasing drink. Not going to rock your world, but not going to let you down either. Its the type of thing that makes sense to have a few bottlesin the 'cellar' ready for when the mood strikes, or when the neighbour pops round to be beaten at cribbage.

Concha y Toro is the largest exporter of South American wine and accounts for a quarter of Chile's production. They have been producing wine since 1883 and have many brands and labels in their portfolio. Casillero del Diabolo fits under the broad heading of 'Premium Wines',which I take to mean mid-range, not being the cheapest, but not claiming to fit into 'Fine Wines'. Considering the price, which is about as little as it makes sense to pay in the UK this points to the good value that can often be had from the wines of Chile.

If you haven't seen Sideways, then I would recommend it. Not for the wine advice, but for some very entertaining moments, especially one set on a golf course.

Lamberhurst

Man of Kent, born and bred, weak in the arm and thick in the head. That's me. I spent much of my first half century living south and to the west of the mighty Medway and that separates me from the Kentish Men who colonise the lands to the north and east. The Medway was also the river from which at the age of 16 I plucked a four ounce Dace and by doing so won the Junior Hornsby Cup, a trophy awarded by the Royal Tunbridge Wells Angling Society on an annual basis to their most successful young fisherman. I was the only competitor. The society also held rights to a tributary to the Medway, the River Tiese, which rises in my home town at Dunorlan Park, where I spent much of my teenage life hiring canoes and generally being annoying, and flows through various villages including Lamberhurst which is where the grapes that went into this week's selection were grown,

Week L (2015) Lamberhurst Estate, Bacchus Reserve 2014. M&S £13.

The producers of this wine, Chapel Down, are well known as being amongst the leading group of the English sparkling wine movement and for which they rightly have a very strong reputation. They are based at Tenterden which is some thirty miles deeper into Kent, as Lamberhurst is very close to the border with East Sussex, from where they make a range of sparkling and still wines, together with beer and cider.

The Lamberhurst Estate wine is made from Bacchus grapes all grown in the Lamberhurst vineyard and is an exclusive blend for M&S. They do produce other Bacchus Reserves but I can't say how these differ as I have not yet tried them.

My selection of this wine was in part driven by a mixture of nostalgia and enduring fondness for the part of the world in which I lived for so long, but also in part because I have read a lot recently about how English still wines are beginning to be as noteworthy as the sparkling variety.

I have tasted English still wines but never really found the reality to match the marketing. This one is a definite step in the right direction. The makers claim it is an alternative to Sauvignon Blanc and I expected to find that it would, at best, be an alternative to the rather bland examples of the world beating grape, however, I was really surprised by the intensity of the ripe melon, grapefruit and, yes, elderflower flavours that this wine delivers.

It is very fruity in the lengthy finish and has a level of acidity that some of Marlborough's Sauvignon Blancs would be pleased to match. The alcohol level is 12% and that's about ideal for this style of wine.

Chapel Down are an innovative organisation. They are on a mission to change perception about English wine and, based on the success to date, have diversified into a range of beers following a very successful crowdfunding campaign. Very trendy. They also have a vine leasing scheme, so if Santa Claus is reading this.....

Kangarilla Road

There were a couple of changes in the UK retail wine market this month. Firstly, Tesco has decided to reduce the number of different wines it sells and to stop 'discounting' wines. That is, they will abandon the irritating practice of telling customers that their £6 bottle has been reduced from £9.99 (or similar). This is very welcome, although I think the result is that the wine in question will now always cost you £6.50.  Swing:Roundabout. Banana:Pyjama, you choose.

The other move was by Majestic, who have removed the six bottle minimum purchase rule and again, this is very welcome. The downside on this one is that you do, in effect, pay a premium for not by six bottles, because that's when the discounts kick in. Had I popped this week's selection in the trolley on November 1st, when I picked up a total of 22 bottles, it would have cost £9.98, but as I didn't, it cost almost a third more all of four days later. Irritating, but my fault through poor planning.

Week K (2015) Kangarilla Road Shiraz, McLaren Vale, 2013. Majestic £13.32

McLaren Vale is a varied wine-growing region of South Australia that was first planted with grapes in the 1830's, along with other famous regions in the same state. One of the early growers in these parts was Mr Thomas Hardy, but as with another vinous pioneer, Sam Smith, it's not that one. This Mr Hardy didn't have anything to do with Tess of the Madding Crowds in Casterbridge, but did go on to establish the eponymous Australian wine brand which produces countless millions of bottles of the jolly swagman's favourite tipple. I only mention that to fill space, as if that wasn't obvious.

I expect you know that Shiraz is the Australian name for Syrah, the red grape variety with a Persian name famous for its role in the wines of the Rhone valley, and that in Australian hands it can produce very 'big' wines that are full of jammy fruit and so much spicy, pepper character that it makes you cough. Well, this one doesn't.

The producers report that the rainfall in the winter of 2012 and the late summer in 2013 set up the vines perfectly and that together with the long warm autumn days and cool nights this has helped them produce a very nicely balanced wine.

I would agree with that. There is the fruit that Australian wines are noted for, dark berries and prunes today, and also some spice, but not of the aggressive variety. There are some floral aromas, too, and some gentle oak induced softness that comes form 25% of it spending 16 months new French and American hogsheads and the rest relaxing in older barrels.

It was bottled in December 2014 by winemaker Kevin O'Brien and unbottled in November 2015 by li'l old winedrinker me. I was at school with a Kevin O'Brien in the 1970's but although his nickname was 'cobber' on account of his initials he wasn't one, so I doubt this is the same man. Cheers to him, or them, either way.

Jackson Estate

New Zealand again. But I am quite excited about this one. As my regular reader (who, coincidentally is also the major contributor to this column) knows I am a fan of Kiwi Pinot Noir and do understand why the nation is famous for its Sauvignon Blanc, even if it has only been growing the stuff for a fraction on the the time that the French have been at it. This is neither of those.


Week J (2015) Jackson Estate, Botrytis Riesling, 2011. Marlborough. Majestic £19.99. 37.5cl

Not cheap, but then dessert wines generally aren't. It used to be unfashionable to like sweet wines. Big mistake that, as are most fashion based choices, because sweet wines often offer huge pleasure through a great combination of flavour complexity, mouthwatering acidity and low alcohol. True, they may not be the best choice to accompany a beef Wellington, but I like a good, hoppy, bitter real ale and that wouldn't be great with a creme brulee. With wine we should think outside the box, not just use it to get out of your box. Experiment, that's what this pointless blog is all about.

I won't bang on again about Botrytis, or noble rot, because you must be reading this on an internet enabled device and that means you can use Google, Bing, or the search engine of your choice to find a nearly reliable definition on some other wine typist's outpourings. I will, however, note that I was attracted to this wine because I have tasted some great German Botrytised Rieslings, but not one form New Zealand.

How do they compare, I hear no-one ask?

Pretty well, would be the answer if you actually cared. This is very sweet, has mouth-coating, almost syrupy texture which benefits from gentle chilling, and tastes of honey, apricots, citrus and warm spices like cinnamon. In the finish its Riesling character comes through. Up until that point it could be almost any Botrytis influenced dessert wine, but then it steps up a gear and is really very nice indeed.

This is not, at least by my standards, a cheap wine. At this price a full bottle would set you back about £40, unless of course you bought it as part of a job lot when you could get 25% off (that would have been a good idea), however, it is remarkable and the investment as an occasional treat is probably justified. Probably.

You may notice there is a tree on the label. This is, so I have read, a gum tree planted by the original estate owners, Adam and Alice Jackson, in 1867 some 12 years after they bought the land. It stands in what is now the Homestead Vineyard although at the time there were no vines to be seen. The first of those was planted 120 years after that gum tree and it is only since 1991 that wines have been sold. It is quite remarkable how much progress has been made in the development of the region as a major source of excellent wines, in under a fifth of the life of that tree.

Irancy

This week we are still in North West Burgundy, still quite near Chablis in fact, but this time we are 20 km away to the South West, and the other side of the 'Autoroute du Soleil' (or A6 as it is far less romantically known).

Irancy is home to a grape variety which claims to be the oldest cultivated variety in France. It goes by many names, including 'Romain' reflecting the notion that it was first brought here by the Romans, but on this bottle is called the equally Roman sounding 'Cesar'.


Week I (2015) Simonnet & Febvre Irancy, 2013. M&S £14

Although Irancy is home to Cesar, it being grown almost nowhere else other than this general area, there are only five hectares of vineyards where it can be found within the appellation so it is not surprising to me that I have not heard of it before.

I have read that single varietal wines are made from Cesar, but in Irancy it is permitted to add up to 10% of it to the majority Burgundian star, being Pinot Noir, which through DNA profiling has been revealed as one of Cesar's parents. The other is Argant (which I hadn't heard of either, I really must keep reading) and that comes from Spain. So perhaps the Romans brought that. Who knows?

In this particular blend only 5% is used and the producer says that it contributes colour and structure, the latter coming from its strong tannins. If the intention was to give the wine a tannic boost, then my inexperienced advice would be to use more of the permitted 10% as the dominant component in this bottle was the acid content. I had put that down to the cool climate of the region where acids develop in the berries long before sugars and tannins and that 2013 had been a bit of a difficult year, leading to late picking and low yields. These together can be a great combination as long as the fruit has ripened sufficiently, but this wine is a little thin, suggesting that it had not had the chance to do so before being picked in October.

The fermentation occurred in temperature controlled stainless steel tanks and then the wine was matured for 16- 18 months in the same, apart from 15% which enjoyed some time in oak.

There are red fruits and some floral aromas, but compared to Week E (2015)'s Earth's End Pinot Noir this one is not as good. They both came from M&S, but if you are going to spend £14 on a bottle of Pinot Noir I would recommend shelling out the additional £2 for the New Zealander. The All Blacks made it through to the RFU World Cup final last night and for a country with a population of less than 4.5 Million souls (not counting sheep) I am beginning to suspect there may be something about the place that produces quality (you can't blame them for Lord of the Rings; that nonsense was written in England).

Hipster

OK, I admit it. This purchase was definitely influenced by the packaging. That and a bit of jet lag.

I had intended to find a Hunter Valley Semillon whilst I was close by. Close by, that is, in terms of being in the right continent even if by the time I had the opportunity to go and look I was 4,000km away on the wrong coast. I failed. The day job kept getting in the way and so at what might have been 5am, or possibly mid-afternoon, on the way home I looked with little expectation of success at the bottles on offer in the duty free shop in the UAE.

Week H (2015) William Fevre, Hipster Edition Chablis, 2013. Dubai Airport AED 60 (£10.67)

I quite liked the idea of the 'Hipster Edition' wine, partly because I knew that in two days there would be an assembling of the family to belatedly celebrate my son's birthday and I thought (correctly) it might amuse, and partly because it appealed to my curiosity to understand whether the image of wine can be developed for new markets without diminishing the quality of the product.

I thought the design consisted simply of a white bottle with some green text in various fonts to make it look more interesting that the usual rectangular paper label, but I was wrong.

The bottle has been designed to sit on the shelves in trendy bars, clubs and who knows what other kind of places I'll never visit, under ultra-violet or 'black' light. When this is the case the bottle on the left, which was the one I had bought, turns into the one on the right, which I didn't even know existed until I scanned the QR code on the back of the bottle.

So, having been beguiled by the packaging I was prepared to be disappointed by the contents. But I should have had more faith. I like Chablis, which comes from the most North West part of Burgundy close to the town of Auxerre. This is a cool climate area and the wines reflect that through their steely / mineral character which (in all good examples) is refreshingly acidic under mostly white fruits and citrus flavours. This one is indeed a good example and, once I had checked the exchange rate to establish that I hadn't allowed my in-transit status to see me unintentionally splurging ten times more than I could afford, good value. I'm sure there is a small premium for the collectable bottle, but I'm happy with that.

GSM

GSM generally stands as shorthand for the Rhone Valley style blend of Grenache, Syrah & Mourvedre, however, down here in the land of the Possum I have chanced upon a different mix using the same sobriquet. The S stands not for Syrah, but for the Tuscan grape, Sangiovese.

Week G (2015) Mitchell GSM, Clare Valley, 2009. David Jones $25.95 (£12.20)

Sangiovese is the grape used in Tuscany to produce famous wines from Chianti, and its sub-regions, and also Brunello di Montalcino and Vino Nobile di Montepulciano. Great names, all. Its name also translates as 'blood of Jove' the god also known as Jupiter and responsible for thunder and the like.

Why the Mitchells decided on this unusual blend is not something I have been able to establish, but it does appear that they have stopped using this combination as the website no longer mentions it.

The proportion of Sangiovese was only 15%, as was that of the Mourvedre, leaving the 70% leading role to Granache, which is in truth what I was looking for in the first place, although I had hoped to have found one from Western Australia which is where I find myself this week. Clare Valley is in South Australia.

The grapes for this wine were hand picked in 2009, vinified in open tanks, using whole bunch fermentation, rather than taking the berries off their stalks, and then left to mature until October 2012 before being bottled.


The result is a wine that has rested for three and a half years prior to bottling and a further two years in the bottle until I came along and plucked it from the swanky department store shelf.

It is a medium intensity ruby red colour, smells of red cherries, light licorice and nutmeg and has a warming, spicy feel in the mouth that hangs around a long time after it has been swallowed. There is a good balance of ripe tannin, that is clinging to my teeth as I type, and acidity that is providing me with the means to remove it. The finish is quite dry but there is an interesting hint of pepper and chocolate in there somewhere.

I like this one. How much of the smooth integration of its components is due to its treatment since the fermentation finished I will never know, but it would appear that six and half years is a decent interval between vine and glass.

Fresquito

I'm quite pleased this week (not about the rugby) to have found a wine that promises to have something genuinely different about it. There's a clue as to why this is in the bottom right hand side of the label.

Week F (2015) Fresquito, Vino Nuevo de Tinaja, Montilla-Moriles 2014. M&S £9

The undistinguished shape on the label is the 'tinaja', or large earthenware pot in which the wine is fermented. These were in use from the very early days of wine-making but are now not widely seen. They are cheap to make, inconvenient to clean and are not great at insulation, which means the temperature of the fermentation can fluctuate in a way that is not easy to control.

However, they are historically significant and do provide wines that have some distinctive characteristics.

The region in which this is made is in the south of Spain, near to the city of Cordoba, around the two towns of Montilla and Moriles. The traditional grape here is Pedro Ximinez, a name often shortened to PX, the star of the beautifully luscious, dark, sweet, figgy pudding in a glass Sherry of the same name that is so good poured over vanilla ice cream.

Indeed, the connection with Sherry is not just the use of one of the permitted grapes (not the most frequently used, which is Palomino and you got that straight from the horses......oh,never mind) but also the way in which the wine matures. This is under a layer of yeast, known as 'flor' and it gives the wine a nutty, savoury tang.

The taste of this dry white wine is not unlike a less intense Fino Sherry but with more juicy apples and almond blossom.

A big difference from Sherry is that this is not a fortified wine and its 14% abv is not the result of any spirit having been added, but just down to the fermentation of all of the sugars that PX produces on the vine in the baking hot Andalusian sun.

This wine will not be everybody's cup of tea. I can, for example, imagine the expression that would launch itself across my daughter's face if I were to give her a glass either with or without suitable warning and she would be unlikely utter favourable reviews. I, on the other hand, would drink it again, especially with some salty, savoury tapasy nibbly bits, should the opportunity arise.

Earth's End

Some of you will have noticed that the Rugby World Cup is currently underway and that yesterday England managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory by converting a seven point lead, with not many more minutes left to play than the points difference, into a three point loss. A feat all the more remarkable considering that their Welsh opponents had lost three of their best to injury during the game. The result now means Australia need to be competently restrained next week to avoid the host nation becoming the first in the history of the competition not to make it through to the knock out stages. The other way to look at it is that they have already made it to the knock out stage, and earlier than other teams in their pool, too.

Even if England do beat Australia it simply increases the chances of them meeting the All Blacks in a later round. Now, there's a lot of things I like about New Zealand, even if I have never been there, but losing to them at rugby is not one of them. However, part of the enjoyment of watching the egg-chasers is the sense of respect and fair play that sets the game apart the allegedly 'beautiful game' (an expression which would be better reserved for venison, in my opinion).

I was drawn to this week's selection by the label. If you can't see it, then let me explain that it shows a series of little cartoon All Blacks doing their 'head, shoulders, knees and toes' thing that they do to welcome and / or intimidate their opponents.

Week E (2015) Earth's End Pinot Noir. Central Otago. 2013. M&S £16

Not exclusively by the label, but also by the fact that it was attached to a Pinot Noir from Central Otago. We had one of these in red week O (2013) which I remember liking, and another for red week W (2015) which was less interesting, but what puts this style of wine up front and centre for me at present is that earlier this week I spent an evening with a couple of friends at a WSET School tasting event where Nigel Greening, the owner of Felton Road which is a highly regarded Otago producer, led us through a four year, two wine vertical exploration of the effects of vintage variation on the wines from two of his vineyards. A fabulous event.

That's enough blather about why I chose it, was I pleased?

Yes. I has a nice combination of flavours and I would call cherry if I had to, plus some floral, almost herbal, tones together with slightly separated oak. I suspect the maker intends this to be drunk fairly soon after bottling, but it is only two and half year's since its southern hemisphere harvest and so the oak may well 'integrate' later as we wine bores are prone to saying.

Sixteen of your earth pounds is a fair demand in return for this drink. Of the two previous Otago Pinot Noirs, the first mentioned above cost AUD 28.99, which at the time was about £17.35 but today would be £13.87, and the second was £9, but dull. The Felton Road is about £38 a bottle and the 2011's were easily good enough to justify the difference, sadly, 'cos that's a bit steep for me. On the bright side the Felton Roads are sufficiently hard to find that it is unlikely to be much a recurring problem.

Lastly, but far from leastly, if that is a permissible word, today is my son's 28th birthday, I hope he has a great day and knows how much I love him.

Dark Horse

I am rather happy to have allowed myself to relax my selection rules. It makes this game of exploration so much easier and less of an albatross. The One thinks I can be stubborn and, if she was right, that would mean I would spend too long each week tracking down and selecting wines according to criteria that only I care about. Oh, hang on.....


Week D (2015) Dark Horse Chardonnay, California. 2013. Tesco £9 

I have commented before on the misguided souls who, for inexplicable reasons, like to say that they enjoy anything but Chardonnay when drinking white wine.

White wine comes in a huge variety of styles, from sharp, acidic wines, though aromatic and floral, to fat and creamy. Almost all of them can be made from Chardonnay depending on where it is grown and the prevailing climate.

This one comes from the warm west coast of America where the fruit has plenty of sunshine to allow it to ripen fully and develop soft stone fruit and tropical flavours. There's plenty of sugar in those ripe grapes and so the alcohol reaches  13.5% before, but not at the expense of reduced acidity that would render the result 'flabby'.

The back label describes the wine as tasting of baked apples and pears and being layered with toasted oak notes of caramel and brown spice. I sometimes think the writers of tasting notes have indulged in a game of bullshit bingo, simply picking plausible words, and less plausible word combinations, from a brown paper bag and having a good laugh at the output. On this occasion I think they have actually tasted the contents of the bottle, although I may have added peaches and pineapple, as I claimed earlier.

I really liked this one and at the price think it is worth a small bulk purchase. It is smooth, easy to enjoy, but still has a little spice in the long finish that makes it much, much more appealing than many of the identikit 'anything but Chardonnay' wines that those more interested in a sound bite than open-minded exploration might choose.

Carmenere

Following last week's example of a wine that costs about six times the cost of an average bottle sold in the UK, I felt I should prove that I am not a price snob I chose one much closer to the average (albeit after 'discount' by the world's largest wine merchant).


Week C (2015) Tesco Finest Carmenere, Valle de Colchagua, Chile. Tesco £5.99.

Carmenere is Chile's signature red wine grape. Originally from Bordeaux it traveled West like many of it's erstwhile stable mates, but unlike the rest of the Cabernet family not much of it stayed at home, so now Chile is home.

In its early Chilean days it was thought to be Merlot and it was not until 1994 that a French oenologlist identified the reason that Chilean Merlot tasted distinctly different to those from elsewhere. The answer being that the Merlot was indeed Carmenere.

It's name is base on 'carmin', the French word for crimson, but this doesn't refer to the grapes themselves rather than the colour that its leaves turn before the harvest.

The wines produced are usually deep red and richly flavoured of mixed red and black fruits, often with a herbal hint.

This one, which has around 13% alcohol fits the stereotype very nicely. It is fruity, has noticeable and reasonably smooth tanins and slips down very easily. It is not  a big wine, nor does it have particular finesse, but it is very drinkable and, at the price, a good weekday 'I never want to commute again' companion to the increasingly gloomy evening.


Tesco described the wine as having been fermented in stainless steel tanks and having had 'a light French oak treatment'. This, I strongly suspect, does not mean that it has spent any time in expensive French oak barrels, but has had either oak staves added to the tank or possibly a big 'tea bag' of oak chippings dunked in it to give it a hint of sophistication. All fair enough for the price. A new oak barrel costs somewhere around £500-£600 and can hold about 300 bottles of wine so that would be approximately £2 per bottle on the cost. So if you want to be picky, pay more!

Bonnezeaux

Last night I attended the launch of the refreshed WSET Alumni body. This is a group made up of diploma holders, most of whom are 'in the trade' but there was a fair smattering of interlopers, like me, who have stumped up the cash and put in the hours of study for no reason other than we wanted to.

One of the speakers was a lady who had far more impressive qualifications, obtained not only through exams but also through real world experience. She had been a flying winemaker, but didn't demonstrate this ability for our entertainment, and now works with big wine business organisations. A lot of what she told us about was to do with the high volume products that account for a big proportion of sales around the world. Many mentions were made of 'one thousand tons per day' of grapes being processed and the 20,000 litre 'flexi-tanks' in which their wine was moved around.

I know it is the reality, but it lacks some of the charm and romance that attracted a non-trade phoney like me to the subject in the first place.

This week's sample is, therefore, the polar opposite.

Week B (2015) Chateau de Fesles, Bonnezeaux. 2010. Majestic £19.99 50cl

Chateau de Fesles has only 52 hectares of vines, from which they produce wines for two appellations; Anjou and Bonnezeaux. The latter, this wine, is made from Chenin Blanc grapes 90% of which been affected by noble rot and the remainder treated to passerillage, meaning they remain on the vine until the begin to shrivel, thus concentrating the flavours and the sugars.

I don't know the actual volumes concerned, but even if all 52 hectares were given over to Bonnezeaux and the harvest was a much as 50 litres per ha, then that's a maximum of 2,600 litres per year.

This was a huge success with my tasting panel. One of them is a Vouvray fan and therefore, usually keen on any sweet wine made from this variety and the other has a palate honed over more than nine decades and usually pretty reliable.

But don't take our word for it. Mr Robert Parker, the American critic and living legend in his own estimation, proclaimed that this individual wine was good enough to warrant its own appellation. Some other people who immodestly claim to know what's what have dubbed it the 'd'Yquem of the Loire'. This is high praise as that particular producer (Chateau) is Bordeaux's only Premier Cru Superieur, coming from one of the homes of dessert wines: Sauternes.

It's all sweet, honey, beeswax loveliness and some of this is said to come from the year or more it spends in Acacia wood barrels that let in just the right degree of Oxygen to allow the wine to develop beautifully.

The average price paid in the UK for a 75cl bottle of wine is around £5.50. The wines shipped in bulk and bottled in the UK will be below that, so one big difference is that this wine is approaching six times the price. Is it worth it? Oh, yes. And not just because of the romance.

Aglianico del Vulture

You might think that August Bank Holiday weekend would be an occasion for a light, refreshingly chilled white wine, a glass of Prosecco or a nice Rose from Provence.

You might think that it would be a good weekend to invite a group of friends around to play Croquet.

But then you might never have experienced an English summer before. We did play Croquet, but as it was cloudy and wet, the game came towards an end in premature darkness with each of the seven players having been issued with a golf umbrella. Now, I appreciate that the Hurlingham Club wouldn't consider it the correct approach to have two teams of three and four players respectively, or to play after dark in the rain, but then they probably wouldn't have approved of the lawn either, what with it being made primarily of clover and moss and as smooth as the rough side of Uranus.

So, having dispensed with formality and abandoned hopes of a balmy evening, I also dispensed a full-bodied, Autumn-friendly red wine and settled for a barmy evening instead.

Week A (2015) Aglianico del Vulture 2013. M&S £10

Rather good, this one. It was used to lubricate the consumption of a selection of five of Mr Waitrose's pizzas, each with a different topping. At the bidding of The One, I had enhanced each of the pizzas with an additional sprinkling of pre-grated Mozzarella and similarly treated Cheddar to such an extent that it was impossible to tell what was hidden beneath. Apart from the chillies. They made their presence felt.

Anyway the point is that Mr M&S recommended the wine as an ideal accompaniment for rustic pork dishes, cured meats and artisan cheese and that, in my book, is exactly what an unidentifiable selection of pizzas smothered in a two cheese mix, is. And they were right. Incidentally, I did question the social acceptability of pre-grated cheese, but a withering look and a mumbled threat about 'doing all the preparation and the clearing up' put me back in my box.

I started this journey with an Aglianico, but not one whose grapes came from the slopes of Mount Vulture, the classical home of the variety. It was cheaper than this one and rightly so. This isn't expensive, but it does have good redcurrant, plum and cherry fruit, a hint of vanilla from French Oak, and some herbal touches. All in all, quite a complex set of flavours for a tenner.

I don't know if Aglianico is grown much elsewhere, but it does have a long a impressive history in the South of Italy where it is thought to have been introduced by the Phoenicians and later became used in the production of the Roman empire's favourite tipple: Falernian. Pliny the Elder noted that Falernian was so strong it would catch light if exposed to a naked flame. I didn't actually try, but I doubt that this would have helped to light the fire pit this week. Especially with the rain.

Zinfandel

This week marks the completion of four laps of the alphabet, twice with red wines and twice with white and I am unnecessarily pleased with myself for not having given up. I have been tempted once or twice, but as soon as I remember that I am my only reader I get an inexplicable second wind.

When I completed the WSET Diploma one of the units (#1) required me write a report on 'The presentation and packaging of wine'. I rather enjoyed doing that and was rewarded with my highest rating for any of the units. The report required, with other things, two wines to be used to demonstrate the difference between 'good' and 'bad'. Had I have encountered this week's selection I would have found it hard to resist, but good or bad?

Week Z (2016) Chronic Cellars Purple Paradise, Zinfandel, Paso Robles 2013. Majestic £12.74

We will come back to the packaging in a little while, but for now let's understand what is in the bottle.

It is a blend of 70% Zinfandel, the big red grape of California known as Primitivo in Southern Italy, 14% Syrah, 11% Petite Sirah and 5% Grenache.

It is 14.5% abv and a full, rich deep cherry and spiced chocolate wine with smoky vanilla oak flavours. There are some robust tannins, but it has a splendid warming finish. If you are in the mood for a subtle light summer red, possibly drunk slightly chilled, do not chose this one. If on the other you want something to chase down a rump steak fried in garlic and black pepper and served with cherry tomatoes roasted in balsamic vinegar and sweet potato chips, then this works a treat. I know, 'cause I was there.

So, now we know what it's like, does the packaging work? I showed the bottle (unopened) to a winey friend who said that if it had been a craft beer sitting on the supermarket shelves wearing this label, it would have caught his eye favourably, however, as it is a wine it made him suspicious.

It turns out that this was quite a perceptive observation as it was the intention of the brothers who make the wine, Josh and Jake Beckett, to 'make a statement' with counter culture branding of their products. There are three names credited on he back label, two Becketts and one I can't quite make out identifying the illustrator.

So good packaging? Yes, I think so. It gets the product noticed and certainly stands out from the often impenetrable wine wall. Will it put some off? Yes, but it may well appeal to the craft beer crowd and make a few converts. As it says on the back of the bottle: 'Life is  gamble, just roll with it. Wishes in one hand Chronic in the other'.

Yealands Estate

I seem to have a bit of a Sauvignon Blanc season of late. June, July and now August have all had their turn. The first two were from France and I made a reference in each to New Zealand, so this month let's go all antipodean.

Week Y (2015) Yealands Estate, Single Block Series S1 Sauvignon Blanc. 2014. M&S £14.

This is the most expensive of the three and is very fresh and intensely flavoured. It has bags of grapefruit, elderflower and gooseberry, plus a herbal kick that all go together to make a very big statement.

My primary school teaching daughter would certainly approve of this one.

It comes from New Zealand's most famous Sauvignon Blanc region of Marlborough and more specifically the Awatere Valley. More specifically than that it is made from grapes grown in Yealands Estate's Seaview Vineyard and, finally (I promise) the most specifically of all, they all come from a single block of vines known, imaginatively, as S1.

S1, I have read, is a sheltered block, furthest from the sea in the vineyard and facing North so that it gets the best of the sunlight. Don't forget we are all upside down, being in New Zealand, so the sun is in the wrong place.

It is quite alcoholic at 13.5%, but easily sufficiently acidic for it not to feel too 'hot' for the style of wine.

We drank it with a roast chicken accompanied by home grown potatoes, beans and carrots, (isn't The One a clever little green-fingered thingy?), although it would have paired very well with something a little more exotic.

As I may have mentioned to myself previously, the purpose of my game is for me to try new things, however, sometimes it is good to be reminded that there are wines that are popular for good reason.

Xinomavro

Almost exactly one year ago we had reached red week X (2014) and I chose a wine made from the Greek grape Xinomavro.

I did this partly because I had never tried it before, which fitted my requirement for using this blog as a means of encouraging my own continuing exploration of the world's wines, and partly because finding anything that qualified as having a strong enough relationship with the letter X was very difficult.

If it was difficult last year, how much harder is it now? Very! So I hit upon a cunning plan to resolve the problem. Select the same wine!

Week X (2015) Thymiopoulos Xinomavro, Noussa. 2012. M&S £10.50

Apart from making weak jokes about the translated name of the grape, I commented a year ago that I regretted opening the wine only two years after the fruit had been plucked from the vine as there were good levels of tannin present and this suggested the wine would be capable of ageing well.

It is only a year later and this bottle is from the same vintage, but I do detect a difference. I hadn't gone back to read my notes before trying this bottle (I did consider claiming that I had deliberately returned for this purpose rather than just being stuck for how to find a qualifying X, but that would be untrue) and so it is only through reading them now that I find myself surprised by the reference to tannin. Yes, it is still there, but not so prominently that it would necessarily generate the same observation.

So I conclude that only one year is enough to soften the mouth-puckering effect of the tannin.

One of my panel of tasters (made up of anyone present for a Sunday lunch) commented that there was a licorice flavour detectable. For myself, I would be more tempted to describe it as mild tobacco leaf, but either way perhaps these ideas do illustrate some degree of in bottle development.

I will try hard to find something different for next year's red week X (2016), assuming of course I am still carrying on with this nonsense, but if I get stuck we will see if another year brings any further change. I think I will buy a bottle now and keep it in my extensive non-existent cellar, just in case.

Waipara

I am, generally speaking, fond of the wines of New Zealand. I have never been there, but the place appeals greatly, possibly because I enjoyed the 1970s in the UK and the chance to do it again (if the rumours are to be believed) is strangely attractive.

This week's white wine is not made with the Kiwis' most famous grape, but with another favourite of mine, the classic German variety: Riesling.

Week W (2015) Main Divide Riesling, Pegasus Bay, Waipara 2013. Majestic £10.86

I bought this one in Majestic, Aylesbury, where the manager asked after I had selected it whether I had had it before. I told him I hadn't and he assured me I had chosen well. He offered the advice that it would go well with lightly spicy Asian foods and then raised an eyebrow when I told him that I intended to serve it with Salmon.

I did exactly that, having cooked the Salmon in a sauce made with chicken stock, finely chopped leeks, peas, board beans and crème fraiche and then raised my own eyebrow as it was further off-dry than I had expected.

My bonus daughter, home for a free lunch, was first to comment, favourably, that it tasted like a dessert wine but not so sweet. That's a fair description. The One thought it delicious and her mother declared it to be so good that she herself would fund the purchase of half a dozen bottles for future consumption.

So, three generations of the distaff side can't be wrong. This is delicious, but perhaps would have been better with either something less creamy, or perhaps if I had not unscrewed the cap until the apple and maple syrup cake was presented.

Having said I am fond of the wines of New Zealand, but not an expert, I should fess up to a failure I enjoyed earlier this year. I am one of those irritating people who sit in front of TV quizzes and get lots of answers correct, mostly by guessing well. The One, who has suffered long enough, put forward the obvious challenge: "if you're so bloomin' clever....", so I did. Telephone audition for Mastermind? Simples. Face-to-face? Hmm,... Anyway, I won't have to study the wines of New Zealand any time soon.

Vacqueyras

The Southern Rhone valley is a huge area of wine production with a hierarchy of regulation and naming convention that broadly equates to the quality of the product. Chateauneuf-du-Pape is it's most famous sub-division, but other sub-regions have, over the last few decades emerged as names in their own right.

You will find bottles labeled 'Cotes du Rhone', which covers almost all of the southern Rhone region, meaning that providing the grapes come from somewhere in the region the name can be used, others labeled 'Cotes du Rhone Villages' which limits the grapes to those grown in a much smaller area (about 12.5% of the bigger area) to the north and west of Chateauneuf-du-Pape, and then those from specific villages, such as Vacqueyras which was granted AOC status in 1990.

Week V (2015) Domaine de la Curniere Vacqueyras 2012. M&S £14.29

Like many of the wines produced in the southern Rhone, this Vacqueyras is loosely modeled on the Chateuaneuf-du-Pape, but the regulations stipulate that the blend of grapes used must include at least 50% Grenache. The balance is made up with Syrah and Cinsaut.

This gives us a wine with high alcohol content, as Grenache needs heat to ripen fully but then produces fruit packed with sugars that ferment to around 14.5% abv and rich ripe plum flavours that have a natural sweetness, balanced with the peppery spice that comes from the Syrah.

It is a full bodied affair and has a long,slightly warm, finish. Despite that it is reasonably easy drinking and although I can imagine it going well with a meaty dinner, it also goes well with a warm summer evening.

There's a lot to like about the Rhone valley as it falls south from Lyon, France's second largest city, through the wonderful Provence region and into the Mediterranean Sea, but it is justly famous for it food and wine. There are expensive hot spots, especially in the North, such as Cote Rotie and Hermitage for reds and Condrieu for whites, but fewer than, say, Bordeaux and Burgundy, so when looking for well made wines that offer good value for money the Rhone is an excellent place to look.

I have driven through Vacqueyras and, like its neighbouring villages, it is clear that a lot of its land is given over to the fruit of the vine and that this has been the case for a long time. There may be a theme (Grenache, Sryah, Cinsaut, Mourvedre) to the wines from all of these villages, but that recipe has stood the test of time. Can I tell you the difference between a Vacqueryas and a Gigondas? Probably not, but I would be happy with either them, or many of the others.

Uchizy

In week M (2015) I explained that, guided by my friend Gary, I have come to consider Macon Villages to be a reasonably reliable choice of region when shopping for a simple, enjoyable white wine that is something different from a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.

I thought it would be a good idea if this week I selected a specific Macon Villages, that is one with a village name on the bottle rather than just the more generic 'villages' which covers grapes from any of the qualifying villages, to see if there were subtle but interesting distinctions I could draw.

Week U (2015) Macon Villages Uchizy 2013. M&S £11

I appear to have painted myself into something of a corner, as the wine is very good, well made, and has a very similar profile to the more generically labelled product.

This one costs £2 more, which is still an acceptable price, but does it have enough to encourage me to pay the fare back to Uchizy?

One of the many pleasures I get from exploring the wines of the world is to stumble across interesting stories and facts associated with any of: the grapes, the locations, the winemakers, history, the weather, economics, politics, the opportunity to make weak jokes, etc. so I wondered if there was anything about the commune of Uchizy that would encourage me to buy the wine again in case a dinner guest became so dull that reciting 'interesting facts' associated with the wine might relieve the boredom. (I do appreciate that it would, most likely, only relieve the boredom for me, but under the circumstances that would be good enough.)

So here's what I found. Depending on where you find your facts, Uchizy is a small commune in the arrondissement of Macon with a population (in 2009) of 768 souls, not double counting students. This goes up and down a bit, but peaked in 2006 at 816. In 1999 there were 377 housing units, but this rose to 404 in 2007, but 36 were vacant. That's in addition to the 40 'second or occasional' homes. Makes you wonder why they were built.

One source informs me that Chardonnay, eponymous home of the grape, is 1.98km away, as the crow flies. Another source tells me it is 2.2km. The only explanation I can think of is that the wind had changed direction between the crow's first and second journeys, but I don't know whether the first was wind assisted or the second wind frustrated. Best plan on it being 2km, if you are tempted.

I also looked into 'places to visit in Uchizy', but it turns out most of them are 'somewhere else'. This probably a little harsh, as I did encounter some photographs that made the neighbourhood look very appealing. One if these was taken by A.M. Tourette, but it didn't say whether or not he's the famous one.

Right. Anyone want to come for dinner?

Tupungato

Last year my red Week M (2014) was a single varietal Malbec that I imported personally from Argentina. That may sound rather grand and imply that I had gone into the wine trade in a big way, however, sadly, that is not true. It was a single varietal and also a single bottle because that's all I could fit in my suitcase, wrapped up in two weeks' worth of dirty washing.

It was lovely, but it was also ~£20 a bottle, without UK duty. So this week I have paid half the price, including the UK duty, and selected another Malbec only this time blended with Cabernet Sauvignon, to see how close it comes to the quality of the earlier choice.

Week T (2015) Tupungato Malbec Cabernet Sauvignon, 2014. M&S £9.00

First off, Mr Marks and Mr Spencer have considerably more buying power than Mr Me and can strike a good bargain with suppliers, so that probably accounts for some of the price difference, but another significant influence on price is, I suspect, the volume produced.

The earlier wine had come straight from the cellar door, so there were no distribution costs incurred by the producer, but having toured the premises immediately before parting with my pesos I very much doubt that a bulk deal with a major UK importer aligns well with the business strategy of the family run concern that produces it.

I don't know that this week's wine is necessarily produced in high volumes, but it is bottled at Bodegas Esmeralda, one of Argentina's major exporters and I would guess they can respond well to international demand as a matter of course.

So, the wine. Rich ruby red, full of up-front blackberry fruit and supported with fine tannins and a good dollop of smooth oak. It is around 13.5% abv, which is 1% less than the earlier wine, and has a long, satisfying finish.

It is certainly a good wine of its type and if you are looking for a warm, full bodied red wine with more bite than many an easy drinking wine then you could do far worse than spend less than a tenner on this.

Would I prefer to have more bottles of the Clos de Chacras Gran Estirpe? Well, yes, I would, but that may be at least in part to the memory of having accompanied my only previous bottle on four flights with it nestling in my underwear.

Sancerre

A couple of weeks ago (Week Q (2015)) we tried a wine form the central vineyards of the Loire valley made from Sauvignon Blanc. It came from Quincy and I made a comment that it was good value compared to its famous neighbour, Sancerre.

Yet two weeks later I find myself tasting exactly that, but not for twice the price or more, as I had predicted, but for a mere £1.50 extra (although it was 'reduced' from £15.49). So let's taste it and decide whether it justifies its reduced 15% premium, or would it even stretch to the full 55%?

Week S (2015) Sancerre. Les Marennes, 2014. Waitrose £11.49.

My first impressions were that it had a very light aroma, so light I wondered if my nasal polyps were striking back, in fact. They are, but that's a different story.

It looked lovely. All bright and shiny, with gentle lemon hues. It was a nicely chilled partner for a Wimbledon evening (TV), and was sipped away while the ladies with unpronounceable names bashed away from the baseline and let fly with a variety of farmyard noises.

It was rather elegant. The Sancerre that is, not the agricultural chorus emanating from the All England Club, but had an intensity of flavour that the nose had not led me to expect. Polyps or not, there was definitely a difference. The flavours were strongly citrus, but moderated by grassy or herbal overtones.

It is quite high in acid, as a young Sauvignon Blanc should be, but like the Quincy not so in your face as the Kiwis can be.

It is made in what Waitrose seem proud to inform us is 'the appellation's only cooperative cellar', but I'm not sure what that is really intended to convey. Certainly I think this is a well made wine and I do prefer it to the Quincy, mostly because it does seem to have a slightly smoother richness about it, so perhaps knowledge of its birthplace may for some challenge the assumption that cooperative cellars necessarily produce inferior wines to those which are mis-en-bouteille au chateau, as they say.

To get back to the original question. Is it worth £1.50 more than Week Q's Quincy? Yes. Would I want to pay the 'full price'? Not really, but I might.

It has been an interesting test of my own assumptions, too, as I now no longer believe quite so clearly that famous appellations, at least this famous appellation, always expects its customers to pay more just for the name.

Ripasso

At the beginning of my explorations on Week C (2013) I selected an example of one style of Valpolicella, a red wine from the Veneto region in North-East Italy. That one was a dessert wine in the Recioto style. This week we have a dry wine, made from the same blend of grapes, but made in the Ripasso style.

Week R (2015) Ripasso di Valpolicella Classico Superiore, Waitrose £11.99

The long name of the Waitrose own brand wine tells us quite a bit about it. Firstly, it tells us that it is from Valpolicella, a wine-making region not far from Verona and the 'Classico' means it is from the traditional heart of the region and not from a more recently extended territory. The basic wines from this region are fresh, light and acidic, intended to be bottled, sold and opened soon after the grapes have been picked and the wine made. The grape varieties, for readers not inclined to go back and check, are Corvina, Molinara and Rondinella.

The next step up gives us 'Superiore' which tells us that the wine has been aged for at least one year before being released for sale and has a minimum of 12% alcohol by volume. This makes it a more full bodied and richer wine.

Richer still is the Ripasso style, but to understand that we must first consider the remaining style: Amarone.

Amarone is the Italian word for bitter, but don't let this put you off. Think of more as dry and powerful. To produce Amarone the grapes are picked and then left to partially dry on straw mats for as long as four months before being fermented and the wine produced. This is to allow the flavours and sugars in the grapes to concentrate as the water content decreases through evaporation. Once the fermentation has completed and the wine has been pressed from he grape skins, the winemaker is left with two things. A strong, fuller flavoured dry wine and a pile of skins. There's nothing unusual about this, but that is where Ripasso comes in.

More Italian to English translation: Ripasso means 'repassed'. So in this case, the Valpolicella Classico Superiore we made earlier is now repassed over the skins leftover from the making of the Amarone (and, indeed the sweet Recioto) allowing additional flavour, tannin and glycerol left in the skins to be extracted into the wine, to give us a result that fits between the standard wine and the expensive Amarone.

This Ripasso is full bodied and bursts with cherries and dark fruits. I think the Italians have got a good thing going with this range of styles. Everything from a light easy to drink wine, through richer styles to a serious red heavyweight and even rounding of with the sweet dessert wine. All good.

Quincy

It is always pleasing when one of the progeny start to take an interest in their poor old man's hobbies. My son enjoys golf and has definitely got to the point where I would be very foolish to allow him a generous handicap. Or indeed any handicap. This is very pleasing.

His younger sister is not a golfer, but does appear to be in the early stages of developing an interest in the fruit of the vine. This, I hope, is a reflection of her appreciation of the subtleties of texture and flavour that can be found in a glass and not a consequence of her career choice. She is a primary school teacher. Year two. The jury is out.

When we had a family celebration, earlier this year, of two birthdays that occur on nearly consecutive days, mine and my bonus daughter's, we enjoyed a Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand from the Dog Point winery. It was excellent, as is their Pinot Noir, so I decided to try her out a more traditional French style of Sauvignon Blanc to see if it met with equal approval.

Week Q (2015) Jean Charles Borgnat, Quincy 2013. Majestic £9.99

The short answer is that it didn't. Where the New Zealand wine is all crisp, acidic, gooseberry and elderflower, this has a gentler herbaceous character, which I like, but it isn't so familiar.

Quincy is a less well known neighbour of some much more famous names. Pouilly Fume? No? Ok, then how about Sancerre? All these three, and others such as Menetou Salon, are vineyard regions in the Central Loire valley, which is surprisingly (to me) far West in France, almost due South of Paris, and not really near the Chateau rich tourist zone of that long river's course.

So, what has this wine got in it's favour? Apart from the characteristic elderflower / cat piss aroma, it is quite light, works well as an aperitif, is not overly heady, leaves a pleasant taste in the mouth of citrus fruits and nothing feline,and, quite possibly most importantly, is about half the price of the Dog Point and possibly less than half the price of a similarly tasting wine from its most famous neighbour.

The world is awash with Sauvignon Blanc. That's not a crticism, it only got to be produced everywhere because a) it can be and b) it is very, very popular. However, this one has something that a lot of the well made, reasonably priced, predictable, usually New World, wines made form the same grape variety don't have. I'm not sure exactly what it is. Perhaps it is because it is not quite so 'zippy', but it seems to me to have a more earthy, take-me-seriously, presence to it than the identikit new(er)comers.

My daughter does not like wines that have had too much exposure to oak. This has had none, but to her palate it still had a hint of the thing that makes her dry heave like a cat with a fur ball, and she would far rather I paid twice as much for more of that delicious Dog Point. So you choose.

Puisseguin Saint-Emilion

Most of the wines I drink are either made to be drunk young, as the majority of wines are, or they are made to wait a while, but I get to them too quickly.

This week there is something of a compromise. At five and a half years old it is not anywhere near as old as the claret-that-is-too-expensive-to-drink wines favoured by collectors and the 1% of the global population who hold 48% of the global wealth, but it is not straight out of the barrel and straight down the throat, either.

Week P (2015) Chateau Moulin de Curat, Puisseguin Saint-Emilion, 2009. Majestic £9.99

Is five and a half years enough? Well, yes, I think so. It has quite a lot of blackcurrant and plum fruit flavour, but herbal and spicy notes also peep through, supported by some cedar and vanilla all of which suggests that the wine has developed beyond its infancy. There is tannin and enough of it to allow the wine to keep longer without becoming tired and uninteresting and has well-balanced acidity. It is quite alcoholic, being labelled as having 14.5% abv, and that is about as much as anyone needs (having said I recently tasted a Cannonau from Sardinia that had 15.5% on its label and although was certainly a powerful wine it was also delicious).

The village of Puisseguin is a near neighbour of Saint-Emilion, one of the more famous names from Bordeaux that can be found on the right bank of the Garonne, and is one of four that are permitted to benefit from association with its neighbour by appending the more famous name after their own by way of claiming increased kudos.

There is a general truth about Bordeaux that the wines made on the left bank have Cabernet Sauvignon as the majority grape in the blend, where those from the right bank include more Merlot. This follows that rule having 60% Merlot, 35% Cabernet Franc and only a 5% splash of Cabernet Sauvignon.

I like this wine. I think £10 for a bottle of a well made, medium bodied, classic style right bank claret is a fair deal.Yes, you can pay more for greater complexity and a greater emphasis on the leather and liquorice flavours of an older and more developed wine, but as I said at the start, this is a compromise choice and one I am very happy to have made.

Oyster Bay

No, not the Sauvignon Blanc. There's nothing wrong with that and it is very well known for a good reason; it's reliable and reasonably priced. This one carries the same brand but comes from the other half of New Zealand.

The Sauvignon Blanc comes from Marlborough, like so many similar wines, and that and area found in the North East corner of New Zealand's South Island.

This wine comes from Hawkes Bay, which is a cool climate region on the East coast of the North Island.

Week O (2015) Oyster Bay, Brut NV. Majestic £11.24

Another significant difference is, of course, the grapes used. 100% Chardonnay go into this wine and more specifically a clone of Chardonnay that produces small and intensely flavoured berries.

When Champagne is made exclusively from white grapes (being Chardonnay) it is known as blanc-de-blanc, being white wine from white grapes. So in that respect this is similar to that style of Champagne, however, there is a significant difference.

Champagne and its closest rivals made in the 'traditional method' go through two fermentations. Firstly, to produce a 'base wine' and then a second fermentation within the bottle in which it will be eventually sold. There is another technique which still has two rounds of fermentation, but the second takes place in a pressurised steel tank, allowing greater quantities to be made to sparkle with fewer  moving parts (bottles) to manage.

Oyster Bay sparkling is produced in this second way; the 'tank method' or, slightly more charmingly and French, the 'Charmat' method.

The Charmat method tends to produce wines with livelier, bigger, some would say coarser bubbles, or mousse and also with far less of a complex flavour profile. There's little of the yeasty, biscuity  flavours that I think make Champagne and Traditional method sparkling wines more interesting and enjoyable, but there is a fruit-driven freshness in the better examples.

This one has crisp white fruits, melon and some softer stone fruits, but not to the fore. The refreshing lively bubbles are accompanied by equally lively acidity, which on its own may make the experience a little tart.

As a style it falls somewhere between another tank method favourite, Prosecco, and a non-premium French Charmat, but in terms of price it is about twice as expensive as a perfectly good Cava, the Spanish traditional method offering.

It is well made and pleasant to drink, but it's not the sensible option from an economic perspective.

Negroamaro

Five years ago we visited Puglia and found it to be lovely. We stayed in a little Hobbit hole house in a style peculiar to the region, called a Trullo. It was down an unmade road, just wider than the hired Ford Kuga, had an above ground swimming pool and was surrounded by Olive trees. Donkeys lived next door.

One of the features of that holiday was discovering that in rural Puglia it is nearly impossible to buy food, certainly to buy ready to eat food, before about 9pm. Even then the locals eyed you with suspicion as they had only just woken from their naps and certainly weren't ready for dinner.

When it did come, it was generally very good, as was the wine. In memory of that holiday this week's wine comes from Puglia.

Week N (2015) Feudo Dei Tari, Negroamaro, 2013. Majestic £7.49.

I don't remember with certainty that we drank Negroamaro, but I do believe we did.

It is a local, indigenous variety (nearly, the Greeks brought it in 8,000 years ago) whose name translates to 'black and bitter'. I assume that refers to the berry before it is made into wine, because the contents of this bottle are a mid-to-deep ruby red and taste more of red fruits such as Raspberries and Cherries (with a hint of Redcurrant) than anything more aggressive.

The bottle notes speak of bitter chocolate hints and I am not yet convinced. I suspect I will have to get much more towards the flat bottom of the bottle before my imagination convinces me that either Mr Green or Mr Black has been anywhere near this one. There's a Quentin Tarantino reference in there somewhere, but I've had the wrong kind of day to waste any brain time trying to find it.

Despite the warnings from those who know better, I will tell you that this has 13% alcohol, which tonight is hitting the spot very nicely.

Majestic's tasting notes suggest that it would go very nicely with a generously topped pizza or any tasty tomato-based meat dish. I rather suspect it might, but I have come home to a quiet house (even the cat is silent, but then he's dismembered two Wood Pigeons today and at fifteen years old that's fair play) and found a half finished family bag of lightly salted Kettle Chips and some wax coated real ale and mustard flavoured cheddar cheese, wittliy labeled 'Hoppy Days' to accompany mine and that seems to work quite well, too.

At the price this is a pleasing, easy drinking, not-at-all bland, red wine that I would be happy to buy again. Would I take it to a dinner party? Only if I could be sure we were in for a generously topped pizza. And right now........