I may have been a bit premature.

Hot on the heels of sampling some fabulous sparklers at an English Wine Producers trade event, came a short, sharp dose of reality – tasting more than 40 English wines blind. Stripped of labels, information about the producers, stories behind the wines and other influencing factors, there was nowhere to hide.

Holding Out For A Hero

The tasting was the English wine heat of Naked Wines’ Zero to Hero contest. The aim is to find “the world’s most talented yet unknown winemakers.” The winner of each heat (there are six in total) gets a listing worth £50,000 with Naked Wines. At the end of this year, an overall winner will be chosen, receiving a further £300,000 investment.

To make the selection, Naked Wines has recruited consumers as judges.

Based on the people I met at the English wine heat, these tend be highly engaged Naked Wine customers, who love sharing the experiences of the wines they buy on Naked’s website.

Here was another reality check.

Despite the growing presence of English wine on supermarket shelves, and a significant amount of media coverage in the past 12 months, I reckon most British wine drinkers have yet to taste a drop of the stuff. Only one person on my table (besides me) had tried English wine before. All he could tell me was that it was made from Champagne grapes.

As someone who has bought and drunk a fair bit of English wine – comparatively speaking – it was fascinating to see it through the eyes, and palates, of my fellow tasters.

First up, in the grand surroundings of the Vinters’ Hall in London. were 14 sparking wines. After a bit of wincing around the table came some nods of appreciation, and mutters of “not bad” and “quite good”.

Except for the one that smelt of farts. (No, dear pourer, that’s not “unique” – that’s a fault.) And the one that was actually Moët Brut Imperial. Nope, still not a fan.

The real shocker came with the still wines.

Looking at my scores, I gave no or low marks to a lot. An awful lot. I wasn’t generous with the comments either.

“Harsh”, “odd”, “smells bad”, “couldn’t drink”, “commute-home armpit” – and one, donated from across the table, “cat’s spray”.

White, red and rosé, it was not pretty and left me feeling like this Grinling Gibbons carving on the wall.

There were exceptions of course, which I will come to. They were few and far between though. In the rush to jump on the English wine bandwagon, it seems we are turning out some stinkers.

It’s A Heartache

They were not all the work of brand new wine producers.

Despite being informed at the event that the wines were unlisted, this meant unlisted at a supermarket. A number of the wines are available via distributors who sell wine to independent shops. To be fair, though, not all independent stores will stock English wines because of price and unfamiliarity.

A Stopham Estate Pinot Blanc at £13.99 is just not shifting at my local independent. It was one of the wines at the event. Luckily, I still liked it when I didn’t know what it was. Sadly, it didn’t get picked as the winner.

What did, by a significant margin, was Bolney Estate’s Cuvée Rosé Brut 2009, a light, summery punnet of red berries, (though I preferred the raspberries and cream of a wine that came shortly after, which I later discovered was a Jenkyn Place Rosé 2008).

The two runners up included my favourite of the day, Furleigh Estate Classic Cuvée 2009 (nice depth with nutty, biscuity complexity “like Champagne” say my notes), and a still white, Element 20 by Litmus Wines.

Now, if this contest had been about investing in a wine that shows a lot of potential, this would have been my top choice. Some light oaking gave structure to this lean, racy, gently aromatic wine. I just felt it was a little style over substance and couldn’t see it flying into the online baskets of Naked customers at this stage.

Afterwards, I found out that this is the first vintage of Element 20, a blend of Bacchus and Chardonnay. So, early days (though a very experienced team behind it, I should add). I also found out that it retails for around £18, at places like The Sampler. This would have made it a tough sell on Naked, I think.

The Bolney Rosé Brut is now on Naked’s Marketplace for £21 per bottle (a discount) if you buy three. It’s not moving very quickly and, while there are some very positive comments, there are also inevitable complaints about price (and some good arguments back too!)

While I applaud Naked for including English wine in the Zero to Hero contest, the cost of  many English wine continues to be an issue for many consumers. And, going by this event, so does the quality of the still wines. While I am optimistic that the latter will change over time, I can’t be confident about the former, meaning that many English wines may stay niche for the majority of wine drinkers.

Footnote:

Of course, there is some well-priced, really good still English wine out there. Here are some of my favourites – none of which were part of the Naked tasting I should add.

- Biddenden Gribble Bridge Ortega Dry £9.74 direct from the vineyard, £10 from The Wine Pantry - off-dry but not in any way sweet.

- Nutbourne Sussex Reserve – £113 if you buy a case from the vineyard or £10.50 from The Wine Pantry - aromatic and rounded, Mr. SipSwooshSpit was smitten on first sip.

- Camel Valley Atlantic Dry - £10.76 per bottle if you buy a case, £11.95 otherwise, direct from the vineyard. (I love their Bacchus and their Darnibole Bacchus too, but they cost more). The perfect wine for a late summer lunch by a British beach. I know because I’ve done it.

- Three Choirs English House Medium Dry – currently on offer at Waitrose online for £6.16 in a mixed box of 12 (until May 29th), a round, fruity, easy-drinking wine that is perfect for picnics.

All of my choices are white. I’ve yet to try a red where quality matches price. And I think rosé sparkling knocks the spots off the still versions.

Getting something for next to nothing is part of our national psyche. Especially when it comes to wine.

No, this isn’t a diatribe about cheap wine. Been there. Done that.

This is about good value wine. 

I am guilty as charged when it comes to saying a wine is a “bargain” when what I really mean is that the wine is terrific for its price. Especially with the UK’s punishing taxes on wine.

Sometimes, though, “good value” sounds too soft a phrase. Especially when the wine in question is under £10.

So, here for the record, are some wines under a tenner that I think are just plain good value. (And a few that are, indeed, total bargains.)

Latria Garnatxa Carinyena, Montsant, 2006

When I tasted this at Oddbins, I thought it pretty good for £9. But you can now get the Latria ’06 online at The Wine Society for £7.50. For a neighbour of the Spanish aristocrat of wines, Priorat, this is truly a bargain.

It does have some brett (brettanomyces) -  a wild yeast that can add some strange odours to (mainly) red wine. While it is considered a fault, many people are not offended by it if the wine still tastes good.

I tried this wine on some friends at a Sunday lunch. “Delicious!” they all said, even when I pointed out the mild farmyard tang. They thought it added an earthiness to the velvety dark plums, blackcurrants, granite, pinch of spice and wisp of smoke. Reader, we drank more than one bottle.

Other good buys at The Wine Society this summer:

* Elio Perrone Moscato d’Asti 2011 - a light, floral wine with a gentle sparkle. Perfect for summer fruit puds and amazing value at £6.75. I’ve spend a lot more on Moscato that is little better.

* Valençay Blanc, Le Claux Delorme, 2011 (Bertrand & Albane Minchin) – a racy, verdant, mineral Loire Sauvignon Blanc that makes you feel glad to be alive. £8.95

* De Martino Viejas Tinajas Cinsault, 2011 - Chile, but not as you may know it.  Some concentrated fruit flavours but without the brick-between-the-eyes experience to boot. Lots of herbs too and black pepper heat. Fermented in amphorae “for fun”. As you do. This would be my wine choice for a barbecue. Even one in the rain. £8.95

Sainsbury’s Taste The Difference Languedoc White 2010

Admittedly, I picked this wine out of desperation.

A weekend in Somerset, on the wrong side of the M5, wasn’t rich in wine choices. Then, like a beacon of light, Sainsbury’s in Bridgewater appeared. And this Languedoc white sat winking on a low shelf, giving a little “I-won’t-need-much-chilling-before-you-can-drink-me” come on.

This wine is made by Jean-Paul Mas, he of the cringe-making Arrogant Frog brand – and the much less squirm-worthy Domaines Paul Mas.

For Sainsbury’s, he’s produced a blend of Grenache Blanc, Marsanne and Vermentino. Fat and ripe it still had an air of freshness with flavours of peaches, cantaloupe melons and raw almonds. A very easy drinking choice as it turns out.

And now a cheap one too. It is currently on offer for £5.99 – reduced from the £7.99 I paid, and the £8.99 quoted full price. Which is still, in my opinion, a decent price.

Creyssels Picpoul de Pinet 2011 

I went off Picpoul a bit due to its seeming appearance on every gastropub wine list in the land. Sadly, the ubiquity is too often matched with mediocrity. But all is not lost.

At a Stone, Vine & Sun tasting of wines from the Languedoc-Roussillon, the Creyssels Picpoul was my favourite. It’s plump for a Picpoul – it has sat on its lees (dead yeast) for a short while, giving it a creamy texture underpinned by brisk acidity. The nose is a divine combination of nectarines and white blossom,  though it’s more citrussy on the palate. £8.25 at Stone, Vine and Sun and £8.60 at The Sampler.

From the same tasting, I also liked two wines from the Côtes de Thongue, where winemakers have eschewed AOC status to make more of what they like:

* La Croix Belle, Le Champ des Lys 2010 – apricots sprinkled with nutmeg and white pepper, and a satisfying, unctuous mouthfeel. £8.95

* La Croix Belle, Le Champ du Coq 2010 – dark, fragrant and earthy, with some grippy tannins that need a hunk of meat. £8.95

Monte Vallon Pays d’Oc Chardonnay 2011

I know, I know. ANOTHER white from the beautiful South of France. What can I say? Here be bargains galore.

This Chardonnay is soft, creamy and rounded - having been stirred with its lees for three months and been partially fermented in oak. Think ripe honeydew melon and peaches. Just very, very drinkable. A bargain at £6.99 if you buy two at Majestic. Still good value at £7.99 per bottle.

I haven’t quite finished with southern whites. The Mas des Montagne Terroirs d’Altitude Blanc 2010 from the Côtes de Roussillon is a smashing Macabeo and Grenache blend, full on flavour but with a balancing cool ripple. £8.49 each for two bottles.

Other good buys under £10 from Majestic, if you buy two bottles of each:

* Morgon 2011, Château de Pizay – entry-level and young maybe for this more powerful of the Beaujolais Cru, but it feels surprisingly smooth and elegant for the price. £7.99.

* Ramos Reserva 2011, Alentejo - a hearty Portuguese fruit compote of a wine that will warm you through on a chilly, wet late spring night. £6.99

* Churchill’s Estate 2008, Douro –  another Portuguese wine, tasting of rich dark chocolate and berries with a sneaky savoury, almost animal streak running through it. £9.99

Palataia Pinot Grigio 2011

Yeah, I know. Pinot Grigio. But this isn’t just any Pinot Grigio – it’s a German Pinot Grigio.

A friend came back from a Marks and Spencer trade tasting raving about this. Ok, maybe that’s overstating it. “Rather good” was probably nearer the mark.

What makes it rather good is the 15% of Pinot Bianco blended in with the Pinot Grigio, giving it an added roundness. It is fruity, not bland as some much cheap Pinot Grigio can be. Juicy orchard fruits and a clean, hint-of-tangerine, finish. It still tasted pretty good the next day. £7.99.

* The Palataia Pinot Noir is also great value at £8.99, also at M & S.  Stick it in a decanter and everyone will think you’ve spend ££ more.

Circling the tables in London’s bijou Bar Pepito, though, I felt a lot less confident about summing up Navarra’s wines so neatly.

Sure, there were some very good value wines “punching above their weight” as one fellow taster commented. But they weren’t all made from Garnacha and Tempranillo. There were some smooth operators – alongside some big beasties made from, or including, so-called international grapes: Cabernet, Merlot and Syrah. There were also some white wines in with the rosados – from crisp to super sweet.

Navarra, it seems, is a work in progress in terms of a typical wine style. The region’s wine body puts this diversity down to geographical differences in the five designated wine zones. Maybe. I suspect there’s another reason too. Despite evidence of winemaking dating back to Roman times, this “New Navarra” was born in the 1990s, thanks to new blood, new techniques – and a new eye to the export market.

Carlos Aliaga, from Viña Aliaga, told me he had produced his Doscarlos Sauvignon Blanc with the French market in mind. Clearly, also the British market, as he is seeking UK representation.

A Catch-22

Like the rest of us, wine producers need to make money. However, it can be a Catch-22. Making wines that are deemed acceptable to a wider variety of palates means tough competition with other wines made in a similar way, and a loss of distinction for a region’s wines – the very reason wine lovers buy them in the first place.

Producer José Maria Fraile, from Tandem, is keen to give this some perspective.

“People are going mad over indigenous grapes,” explained José. “But Cabernet and Merlot were planted here before phylloxera. They are in their natural place.”

His argument is that Navarra had strong historical links to France long before the vine disease wiped out many of Europe’s vineyards in the 19th century – including those in Spain.

Tandem is certainly adding its own stamp to the classic Bordeaux blend with its Macula 2004, a 60-40 split between Cabernet and Merlot. Unfined, unfiltered and “rested” in concrete tanks before oak maturation, this is a combination of smoke, tar, chocolate and dried blackcurrants with grippy tannins. It’s feels punchy on initial tasting, but José told me that Tandem’s reds – which are under screwcap – are designed to be kept open for at least a day to drink at their best.

I’ve just tried this on the 2005 Ars Nova (£12.76, Vinoteca), a Tempranillo, Cabernet and Merlot blend. On opening, it felt quite firm. Crunchy red and black fruit, soft red liquorice and coffee. The day after, it had mellowed. The crunchy fruit had turned into soft raspberry jam, balanced with good acidity, along with those flavours of coffee and liquorice.

Tandem has just produced its first white, also made from an indigenous grape, Viura (also known as Macabeo). Inmacula 2011 combines brisk acidity with a gentle, creamy roundness achieved through stirring the wine on its lees for two months in French oak. Quite delicious. José suggested Tandem may change the grapes in the wine over time. I hope they don’t fiddle with it too much. (Imported by Novum – Hallgarten Druitt.)

The Best Of The Rest

Over at Ochoa, wines were more as I expected for the region. There was a clean, light, structured Calendos Rosado 2011 – a Garnacha/Tempranillo blend with a splash of Merlot (c. £7.49, City Beverage Co) ; a soft, brambly, perfumed Tempranillo Crianza 2009 with a little salted butter kick on the finish; and a freesia-scented Moscatel 2011 with a whopping 160 grams-per-litre of residual sugar, the stuff that remains after fermentation. (No stockist for the latter two yet, imported by PLB Group Ltd.)

Other wines that impressed:

* Altos de Inurrieta 2007, 50% of which is made from indigenous grape Graciano. Dark and intense, it had a dainty manner about it. Like a quarterback in ballet shoes. (Imported by C & D Wines Ltd.)

* Pago de Larrainzar 2006, primarily a Merlot/Cabernet blend, this has real power – the producers aren’t wrong when they say it has “a strong personality”. But it also has fragrant, juicy black cherries mixed with leather, cedar, almonds.  When some food was served, I tried this with some charcoal-grilled steak. Good match. (Imported by Georges Barbier.)

* Chivite’s Finca de Villatuerta 2008, a blend of Tempranillo and Merlot. Dark gravel mixed with bright fruit flavours, and that hint-of-butter finish. Elegant and seductive mouthfeel. (Imported by 10 International, no stockist yet – it’s a new wine.)

* Señorio de Sarría Viñedo No7 Graciano 2008 – the most unusual wine on show. Savoury and a bit feral, it smelt of barbecue smoke, fresh tarmac and dried cranberries. Without food, it tasted similar too. Then I tried it with some Serrano ham which brought the fruit more to the fore. This wine will not be to everyone’s taste, but for me, it was a winner. Retailing at around £9,  I would love to see how this develops over a few hours, or even days. (Available from Highbury Vintners and Noel Young Wines amongst others.)

I also liked Señorio de Sarría’s juicy, crushed raspberry and spicy Rosado – not as restrained as Ochoa’s but easy drinking and good for c.£7.50 – and the damson and coal Cabernet/Merlot Gran Reserva was tasty too.

So, an interesting mixed bag of styles at the Wines of Navarra tasting. But, for me, there was one style that stood out – those intense, structured and distrinctive red blends. Let’s hope they’re enough for Navarra to attract new consumers and step out of Rioja’s shadow.

Although he jokes about how he thought making wine would be an easy life after a career in advertising, the Dutchman had planned to start small when he bought Domaine de la Grande Séouve, in Provence.

But then he realised his dream would remain just that, unless he thought bigger. That meant hiring good people to manage the vineyard and the cellar, and not just having a go himself. It meant analysing what he liked and didn’t like in 30 different bottles of rosé, and having his winemaker try to meet that brief through making different wines and blending them.

It also meant travelling around the world to sell his wine - AIX Rosé – which is why I am hearing him tell his story at Bistro du Vin in London’s Soho.

Fantasy and Reality

As we taste the 2011 – his third vintage –  I ask him: “Have you made the best rosé in the world?”

“I’ve learnt to compromise,” he replies, with a smile. Wine fantasies are always moulded by realities such as soil and climate. This “compromise”,  however, has resulted in awards. His 2010 beat 40 other local rosés in a prestigious French competition.

It’s good stuff. A crisp, lively blend of 60% Grenache, 20% Cinsault and the rest Syrah and Counoise, it tastes of redcurrants, raspberries and a spritz of lemon.

It is also attractively packaged with clean, modern branding, as you would expect from someone whose background is in advertising. And, in a “stroke of genius” (as one wine writer at the event put it), this rosé is available in party-friendly magnums (Majestic, £19.99).

Before this Provence Wines dinner, I would have described AIX as a glorious light salmon colour. But, looking at the liquid colour palette handed around at the event, I think pêche (peach) might be more accurate.

This colour scale, showing the six main nuances of Provence rosés, was produced by the Centre du Rosé – the only research facility of its kind in the world. Established more than a decade ago in Provence, it now studies rosé wine from all over the world.

“We think, drink, eat and sleep rosé,” says Gilles Masson, the Centre’s director. “Our aim is to improve the quality of rosé wine, from the vineyard to consumers’ tables.”

“Rosé is a technical wine,” explains Philippe Guillaton, owner of Chateau Margüi. “You must be very careful no oxidation takes place.”  Many reds and whites benefit from some oxidation – it helps them evolve and gives them character. This is the last thing you want with a Provence rosé, whose USP is extreme youth.

Chateau Margüi is an organic vineyard and Philippe and his wife are moving towards running it biodynamically. While they currently handpick their grapes, Philippe tells me later that he and his wife are thinking of buying a machine to pick the grapes for the rosé (Cinsault and Grenache). This is so that they can get the grapes to the winery as fast as possible while the grapes still feel alive.

Attention to Colour

The Perle de Margüi 2011 may look very light (melon I think), but it has a captivating strawberry nose with a hint of fresh banana and a black pepper backnote. To taste: pink grapefruit, hints of red berries plus wet stones and more of that pepper.

By contrast, the Domaine Sainte Marie Tradition 2011 feels weighty. This blend of four grapes is a very pretty pink and tastes of roses and oranges. Though perhaps not as elegant as the first two, this would my choice for feet-up easy drinking in early summer or to have with Thai food.

Manager Christopher Duburcq says their goal is to make a consistent wine that is also a sexy product.

“It’s a wine which demands a lot of accuracy. It’s not easy,” says Christopher, echoing Philippe Guillaton. “We pay a lot of attention to the colour.”

We are shown these three wines to demonstrate the different types of rosé produced in three appellations: Coteaux d’Aix-en-Provence, Coteaux Varois en Provence and Côtes de Provence respectively. Both the Domaine Sainte Marie and the Chateau Margüi do not currently have UK importers.

Throughout dinner we sampled more rosés, all which are available in the UK. Of these, I loved the floaty grace of Domaines OTT’s Clos Mireille Coeur de Grain 2010, but not the £27.95 price tag (Roberson Wine) – the Famille Négrel Sainte Victoire 2010 may have been a touch more heavy-footed, but had similar floral hints and was much better value at £9.99 (Majestic).

However, the star of the meal came at the end, Château d’Esclans 2010. Lightly aromatic on the nose – thanks in part to some Rolle (or Vermentino) it tasted of peaches and red berries drizzled with cream.

And yes, I would fork out £21.50 (Bibendum) for this wine. On a special occasion. Like when the sun actually comes out – and stays out – in a typical English summer.

I wouldn’t kick it out of my house – but I wouldn’t have it as my desert island wine either. Powerful and intense, it would bore me to tears after a few days.

However, a little chink in my armour might have appeared, thanks to a lunch organised by CyT UK - Concha Y Toro’s UK arm – to promote Malbecs from its Argentinian brand Trivento.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. A free lunch at London’s Pearl restaurant equals a miraculous conversion. Not quite.

The chink appeared tasting three 2011 tank samples before we even sat down to lunch. Each sample came from a different vineyard in Luján de Cuyo in the region of Mendoza – considered the home of Agentinian Malbec as the first vines were planted here.

All of these samples were destined to be blended with other Malbecs – or even other varieties of grape – and possibly aged in barrels as well, according to the style of wine Trivento wanted to achieve. It has a few Malbecs in its portfolio.

Old Vines

The first sample came from 70-year-old vines in a vineyard in Vistalba, 100kms from the Mendoza River and the lowest lying area of the three. It was intense and smelt syrupy on the nose. Pretty much what I was expecting.

Then we moved onto a wine made from 90-year-old vines in Las Compuertas, next to the river. A stunning purple colour, it smelt fragrant and enticing, and felt weighty but not oppressive.

The final sample, Cruz de Alto, came from the youngest vines – 30-years old – and the highest altitude, 1,500 feet above sea level. A cooler region means higher acidity and this sample felt comparatively delicate to the other two. Almost Old World.

Tasting these three tank samples made me realise that underneath all the heavy make-up and fake tans I’ve experienced with many Malbecs from Argentina, there are probably some rather cute wines.

For lunch we tasted three of Trivento’s finished Malbecs. We kicked off with a polished, plummy Amado Sur 2009, Malbec blended with Syrah to give it a little spicy prickle and Bonarda, another widely-planted grape in Argentina. It was originally developed for the US market, but is now exported to other countries.

“The most important part is Malbec, for its intensity and sweet tannins” explained Francisco Bragoni, from Trivento.

“We add Syrah for a spicy touch. Bonarda is quite similar to Malbec, but it is more astringent. We are looking for balance.”

It’s that “astringency” – or acidic lift – which probably prevented this wine from clashing with the first course, a veal Niçoise salad, which included a couple of anchovies in vinegar. It was way too heavy for this dish – then we were eating food off the regular menu, not plates prepared especially to go with the wine.

It was no surprise, therefore, when the sommeliers around the table said they wouldn’t have matched the two – they’d have chosen a white. But they declared it perfectly pleasant for an entry-level Malbec,that would be listed at around £35 on a restaurant menu.

Intense and Complex

Next came the Golden Reserve 2009 – which is a step up from the previous wine in terms of price and quality. It is 100% Malbec, but blended from varietals made from grapes grown in different regions. All have been aged before being blended. The result: some complexity along with the sweet, soft tannins and intense plum fruit – very dark chocolate, coffee and leather. And maybe a hint of cuteness. You’ll pay around £15 online and maybe £45 in a restaurant.

The Golden Reserve felt good value compared with the final Malbec, for which you’d pay at least double.

The Eolo is Trivento’s top-of-the-range Malbec, the one made for laying down and treasuring.

Less than 5,000 bottles of this are made each year, from 100-year-old vines. Lots of care and attention is given to this wine (handpicking the grapes, fermenting them in small tanks) hence the cost.

An Elegant Baby

The 2006 – with its cheeky splash of Syrah – did feel a lot more elegant and structured than the Golden Reserve , with an alluring soft liquorice and crushed black cherry nose. Unfortunately, it was too young to really be enjoyed – its oak stood around the flavours like an over-protective cloak.

As a result, it didn’t quite gel with the slow-cooked lamb with foie gras mousse and spring vegetables. The Golden Reserva was the better choice at this moment in time.

We didn’t have Malbec with the dessert – a mandarin mousse with white chocolate ice cream. We had a Trivento’s Brisa de Otoño 2011 – a lightly tropical Sauvignon/Viognier blend. A rather perfect match.

Did I leave the lunch wanting to be alone with these Malbecs on my desert island? Not really. There are still others ahead of the queue.

But I’d happily serve and sip them on the deck of my private yacht. Just so you know.

The answers came back thick and fast. But I don’t remember seeing Sauvignon Blanc featuring prominently – if at all.

Yet our supermarket shelves are stacked with the stuff.  It is the most popular wine ordered when eating out .  And it’s closing ranks behind Pinot Grigio as the most popular wine bought in UK shops.

Why is Sauvignon Blanc so popular? Especially from the New World?

Perhaps because it is so easy to drink on it’s own. It can be fruity while still feeling clean, bright and refreshing. There’s a LOT of it about under £10.  It’s also very reliable. Pick up an average bottle of Savvy B and you generally know what you are going to get.

Then there’s the appeal of methoxypyrazines and thiols. The former gives Sauvignon Blanc its grassy aromatic character. The latter, the distinctive grapefruit, gooseberry and passion fruit flavours.

However, I’m sure that even Sauvignon Blanc die hards would like to try something else every now and then. As long as it had a similar smell, taste and mouthfeel of course.

So for those willing to throw caution to the wind and mix things up a little, here are a few alternatives.

English Bacchus

Essence of country hedgerows in the summer. Think elderflowers and gooseberries still on their bushes. These tend to be light and lean in body but can still pack an aromatic punch. They’ve been been likened to an English Sancerre. The slate-infused Camel Valley Darnibole Bacchus gets closest to that description. You can find other worthy versions at Waitrose and Marks and Spencer – or direct from the producers.

Vin De Pays Des Côtes De Gascogne

A blend dominated by Colombard and Ugni Blanc (also known as Trebbiano). Their destiny is usually tied to making Cognac or Armagnac. But when young, and blended together, they make a chirpy glassful. Sainsbury’s  Côtes De Gascogne is a decent glass of gooseberry for the price, £4.49. Trade up a few pounds and you will be rewarded with more finesse. I like Domaine Saint-Lannes 2011. Intense grapefruit nose. Flinty, verdant and spiky on the palate. It retails for just under £8. You can find it in independent wine merchants and online at Slurp and The Fine Wine Company.

Graševina

From Croatia to be precise. Ilok if you are asking. A fresher climate than other areas where this grape is grown. Turns out perkier wines than other regions in the country.  I can’t profess to have drunk a lot of it. Not much at all really. But I did try a bottle of Ilocki Podrumi Graševina 2010 at a recent tasting organised by  wine agents Thierry’s. Passion fruit, grass, a signature green apple crunch, a touch of blossom – and mouth-watering minerals, like stones have been added to the glass. Can you buy it in the UK? No takers yet. Consider this, then, a drinking tip for your holiday in Croatia.

Grüner Veltliner

OK, maybe a leap of faith here. Grüner is aromatic. However, it can come in a variety of guises from light and lean to more rich and spicy. But when I asked Oddbins if they had anything Sauvignon Blanc lovers would like, they sent me a bottle of Salomon Groovey 2010. Salomon is the name of the producer and groovey a play on Gru-vee, which Grüner is often shortened to. Apparently.

It had some New World Savvy-type smells but also green melons and limes. I wasn’t convinced. Aggressively acidic on first taste. I still wasn’t convinced. Got a bit of bread. Dunked it in olive oil. Ate it. Tried the wine again. Hey presto. Uptight, Old World-ish Sauvignon style, and begging for a vinaigrette-dressed salad.

Verdejo

Spanish for Sauvignon Blanc. Almost. Verdant, citrussy and aromatic. Oddbins have a cheap, grass-and-green-apple Verdejo called Green Fish, perfect for casual sipping on a hot afternoon.

Vermentino

Can act like Sauvignon’s fat-bottomed cousin, if you choose a simple, unoaked one from the middle of mainland Italy.

Blended with Trebbiano and Malvasia in Poggiotondo Bianco 2010, it makes a racy, aromatic drink – herbaceous, mineral, citrussy. I reckon, straight out of the fridge, this would fox many a fan of Sauvignon. Distributed to many independent wine merchants by Liberty. Just Google it. Costs around £10.

Marks & Spencer Vermentino 2010 has a grassy, cat’s pee smell which some people adore in their Sauvignon Blanc. It felt quite vibrant to drink too.

So, plenty of choice there for Sauvignon lovers to live life on the edge and experiment a little. Who knows, they might actually prefer one of these.

Or maybe that’s just taking things too far.

Now, where’s my glass of Pouilly Fumé?

At their recent annual trade tasting in London, they had not one but two masters of wine on hand – Lynne Sherriff and Jancis Robinson – to talk up Koshu and educate the uninitiated. Of which there seemed a fair few, despite this being the third year Koshu of Japan (KOJ) producers from Yamanashi Prefecture have shown their wines in London.

I was one of them and keen to learn.

Koshu In Five Lessons

Lesson number one: don’t expect big aromas and flavours despite the fact the Koshu grape is tough, thick-skinned beast.

“These are lightly aromatic – not jump-out-of-the-glass wines,” explained Lynne during a masterclass and tutored tasting.

“They’re bonsai wines,” added Jancis. “Koshu is in a really narrow spectrum. It’s very subtle, very Zen… …these are not showy wines in any way at all.”

These white wines are also low in residual sugar (what’s left over after fermentation) and in alcohol. The wines I tasted ranged from 10.5% – 12% alcohol by volume (ABV).

Lesson number two: Yamanashi, in the shadow of Mount Fuji, is famous in Japan for growing fruit, especially apples. But it sounds a total pain for growing grapes that make quality wine. Summer rot is a real problem as 80% of rainfall lands in the growing season – it can be very heavy. Last September, there were two typhoons. Millerandage (where not all grapes on a bunch develop) can also be an issue.

“A lot of very precise work is needed in the winery to give the wine some body and flavour,” said Jancis.

Lesson number three: despite the Koshu grape’s origins coming from vines traded along the silk road, and a wine industry developing in the late 19th century, these crisp, light, delicately fruity wines are a recent style.

Lesson number four: it’s unlikely you will find Koshu wines in your local supermarket anytime soon because, at around £18 for the still wines, they’re too expensive and unknown. You can find Koshu in some specialist retailers though – such as Amathus and Selfridges.

“I do see a place for them on restaurant lists,” said Jancis. With mark ups on top, I imagine we’re talking fine dining and high-end Asian cuisine, though I’m keeping my fingers crossed that some mid-range Japanese restaurants will also see the light and ring the changes from sake and beer.

Finally, lesson number five. The Koshu producers have committed to radiation test their wines for many years to come, following the post-tsunami Fukashima nuclear disaster. The wines we tried from 2011 were tested in Japan and then twice by UK customs.

Grace And Favour

There were 13 producers showing Koshu wines at the event. The most assured were those from Grace Wine, a family-run business that has been at the forefront of introducing global techniques into their viticulture. The winemaker  - the daughter of the fourth generation owner  - trained in Bordeaux. Her Koshu Kayagatake 2011 was impressive in that it had what appeared to be a dainty lime flavour on first sip that just went on and on, well after I’d spat it out.  I also tried the Koshu Hishiyama (single vineyard) 2011 – gossamer and precise – and the slightly more ample 2010 which felt a little creamy and had a hint of stone fruit.

Other Koshu wines that stood out for me were those made by L’Orient, Rubaiyat and Marquis – the latter probably because it had a touch more residual sugar and a more intense fruitiness than the others and was a bit more familiar. It was the one I could imagine serving to friends without food. An honourable mention goes to Soryu Koshu 2011 – super clean and only 10.5% ABV.

I was less convinced by a couple of the sparklers I tried, but as one importer told me, they were still a ‘work in progress’.

I’ve said Koshu wines were delicately fruity. I also detected savoury hints in most of them too. Looking back in my notes, I see smoke, salt and cheese rind written by a number of the wines and – dare I say it – sake. Which is what makes these wines distinctive and different – though not unappealing. Few of them I would drink on their own. But I am planning to buy a bottle and try it with food at my local Japanese BYO restaurant. I’ll let you know how I get on.

Postscript

So I bought a bottle of the Grace Kayagatake and was given a bottle of the Hishiyama 2010. I drank them, as planned, at a local Japanese BYO with friends. The Kayagatake went best with sashimi and tempura. The Hishiyama was better with the meatier dishes, though not brilliant with beef. As you might imagine.

It was worth doing, but I couldn’t help thinking of cheaper alternatives that would work well too. Maybe a Picpoul de Pinet, a richer-style Muscadet or a dry German Riesling from Nahe. Or perhaps, for that more savoury edge, an aged Hunter Valley Semillon.

So, with the 2012 BAFTA film awards almost upon us here are my recommendations of what wine to drink with each movie nominated for Best Film and Outstanding British Film.

The Artist

Nostalgic, playful, elegant and lean – it’s not a complicated story, but charmingly executed.  My perfect match would be a classic steely Chablis that dances on your tongue, and makes you feel alive and happy.

The Descendants

An absorbing story set on Hawaii, about a man who has taken a back seat bringing up his daughters and now has to take the lead. This demands something lush, smooth and tropical, such as a ripe New World Viognier.

Drive

Violent maybe, but this film about an enigmatic, taciturn outsider has divided audiences. Only a natural wine will do.  Something unfiltered, unfined, funky and on the edge. Given that there is quite a bit blood, maybe a red would be best.

The Help

A film about prejudice, both racial and class, needs a wine that is looked down on, ignored and thought of as third rate. So how about a Bulgarian, Greek or Turkish wine?  You’ll be amazed at the quality that is now exported. It’s just a shame there’s not more.

Tinker Taylor Soldier Spy

Whisky might be the most apt drink for this shadowy film full of smoke and subterfuge. But this piece is about wine, so I am plumping for Claret. Nothing too posh. Just something the old boy network would have knocked back at the club in the 70s.

My Week With Marilyn

Two words. Pink fizz. Preferably Champagne. But, since this is about Miss Monroe filming in the UK, an English sparking rosé will do just fine. There is a rule though. It can only be drunk out of a coupe glass. Giggling, sulking and drug addiction is optional.

Senna

You could make like a racing driver and grab yourself a Jeroboam of Champagne. Or you could drink some Brazilian wine in solidarity. If you can find any. I’d plump for something fast and focused like a Sauvignon Blanc from the Loire in France or Northern Italy.

We Need To Talk About Kevin

Not the easiest of films to watch, this needs something dark, challenging and hard to bond with. How about a cheap, young, astringent Carignan from the south of France, full of bitter tannins and tough to love. Like children, Carignan can turn out nicely. Or it can be murder to drink.

Shame

If only Yalumba’s René Pogel was still on sale (read it backwards, people). Sadly, it’s not. So instead, why not choose a wine you should feel ashamed to order in public. White Zinfandel. The wine world’s happy, sugary accident. I don’t care who drinks it behind closed doors. So long as they keep their dirty little secret to themselves, ok?

So, while magazines are full of soups, salads and “light food”, I’m going to buck the trend and write about Kinky Friedman-style big, hairy steaks matched with ballsy red wine. Argentinian Malbec to be precise.

It’s fair to say I’ve always been a little bit “meh” about how the South Americans treat this grape. I’ve had plenty of pleasant Malbecs, don’t get me wrong – but nothing yet has really rocked my world, even at the higher end.

Big, Dark and Smooth

That said, at the lower price range, they’re one of my default wines when I eat out with friends, where we don’t want to spend too much and can’t see anything else suitable on the list. I always know what I am going to get. Something big, dark, smooth and reliable. Ditto if I want something simple and easy to drink with a hearty winter stew. These Malbecs tend to be unchallenging, uniform and formulaic.

Which is a good thing or a bad thing depending on your viewpoint – and how much you expect a wine just under £8 (retail) to deliver. For a Malbec, if you take off duty and tax, plus marketing, bottling and shipping costs and you’re probably paying around £3 for the wine itself, and the labour that went into making it. About the same as a lunchtime sandwich.

When Grupo Codorníu offered me a bottle of Septima Malbec 2010 to review, along with two doorstop-sized Argentinean steaks, I thought I’d put a handful of Malbecs to the test in roughly the same price range . As I was in a gale-lashed Cornwall at the time, my choices were limited to a Co-op Fairtrade Malbec Argentine Reserva 2010 and Viñalba Malbec 2010, also bought at the Co-op.

Not Quite as Planned

Unfortunately, this particular bottle of Viñalba was faulty (I’ve had one before which was fine). It smelt of fish food and had a lit match taste  - which can be a by-product of too much sulphur dioxide, which is commonly used in winemaking. We poured some of the Malbec away and stuck the cork back into the bottle. The next day it was quite drinkable – simple, solid flavours of plums and cocoa, and no oak. Sadly, it was too late for the steak. At £6.49, it’s decent.

Next came the Co-op’s own label Fairtrade Malbec Argentine Reserva 2010 for £7.49. It had an intense red cherry and crystallised violet taste with an odd, dried apricot finish. It just lacked depth, but was ok with the steak. What was interesting about this Malbec (and others in the range) was the honesty in which it listed all the ingredients of the wine in the back.  A great eye opener to those who believe you shouldn’t pay very much for a wine – but would baulk at buying processed food. Oak chips and added tannins anyone?

Finally, the Septima Malbec (£7.49 Wine Rack). A weighty beast with a meaty, jammy smell, I was surprised – and pleased – at the amount of acidity I could feel, and the green, stalky edge which gave another dimension to the dark cherry, boot polish and oak-induced spiciness. It stood up well to the juicy steaks, the protein in the meat making the wine taste more of summer fruits.

The steaks themselves were butter-soft, and almost fell apart on knife contact . However, while the texture was fabulous, they didn’t have heaps of flavour.

I regretted not having to hand a bottle of The Wine Society’s Argentine Malbec (£6.50) which is still full-bodied but doesn’t feel too weighty and has sharp, prominent flavours of black fruits. Also the 2011 Finca Los Primos Malbec (approx £8.99 from various independent retailers) with similar focused fruit.

As it was, the Septima Malbec won this tiny, highly unscientific, not very successful taste-off. And for the moment, I’m still a bit “meh” about most Argentinian Malbec. Unless it is with a hairy steak.

We pull into the courtyard of a two-story villa. It is dark and quiet, save for a dog or two barking in the distance and there is the smell of woodsmoke in the chilly air. Waiting for us is Lucia Barzanò, and we are at Il Mosnel, one of the first wineries to start producing Franciacorta in the late 1960s.

Lucia, who runs Il Mosnel with her brother Giulio, guides us into a room with a roaring fire. Giulio joins us and we are handed glasses of the 100% Chardonnay 2006 Extra Brut EBB named after their mother Emanuela Barboglio, who planted the vineyards that now produce its seven different types of Franciacorta (though it has produced other wines since 1836).

After a quick introduction and trot through the cellars, we go upstairs for canapes and some non vintage pas dosé, made from Chardonnay and Pinot Blanc (Bianco) and a touch of Pinot Noir (Nero), the three grapes allowed to make Franciacorta.

Equal but Different

Like Champagne, Franciacorta is made from a still base wine that is fermented for a second time in the bottle. After this fermentation, the wine sits on the dead yeast (the lees) for a number of months, according to regional wine laws and the style the producer wants to achieve. Lees give an added depth and dimension to wines. The process of then removing the lees is called disgorgement. As some of the liquid is lost in this process, a small amount of base wine is added, along with some liquid sugar for taste and balance. Pas dosé means only base wine is added. In Champagne it is called zero dosage or brut nature.

While I find the latter can be austere to drink without food, the Franciacorta pas dosés I’ve tasted feel easier and refreshing to sip on their own. A lot of this will be down to the ripeness of the grapes – Brescia has a warmer and more moderate climate than Northern France. Perhaps too it’s the addition of Pinot Blanc, which you don’t find in Champagne. Producers are also fanatical about letting their wines sit on lees, sometimes for far longer than is required by law (and beating the minimum required for non-vintage Champagne).

According to Tilli Rizzo, of producer Fratelli Berlucchi, pas dosé is the true expression of Franciacorta. ”I think this is the real Franciacorta. It tastes like the wine it was made from,” she told me at a small tasting at Vini Italiani in London. Fratelli Berlucchi makes 10,000 bottles a year for a “small slice of customers” mainly in Italy. “It’s dry and not so easy to drink,” she added, meaning many people preferred something more rounded. However, I think the lemon and zinc purity of the Fratelli Berlucchi 2007 pas dosé, with its thin ribbon of softness and it tart green apple skin finish, would appeal to quite a few people I know.

Sumptuous Satèn

If pas dosé is still too hardcore for you, then Franciacorta comes in styles of ranging from extra brut, through to rosé and, perhaps the trump card, satèn. While satèn is made primarily from Chardonnay, though some Pinot Blanc is allowed, it is quite unlike a Champagne blanc de blancs. The amount of sugar added (with yeast) to kick start the second fermentation is lower than usual – even lower than pas dosé. As a result the carbon dioxide pressure is reduced, which gives it a satin mouthfeel. Hence the name. The ones I tried in Brescia, at a tasting prior to the Il Mosnel dinner, felt gloriously sumptuous in texture.

The problem with Franciacorta, as with other sparkling wines made in the traditional method, is that always gets compared with Champagne. People are happy to drink a substitute if it is cheaper. But Franciacorta retails in the UK at a similar price point to Champagne, often higher than discounted or supermarket branded ones, but it lacks the legacy and cachet, and sometimes the quality. It only got DOCG status in 1995.

Prosecco Problems

There’s another problem. Italian sparkling wine in many export markets is now synonymous with Prosecco, made from the Glera grape. With Prosecco, the second fermentation takes place in a tank and it is bottled and sold soon after. There are exceptions of course. But generally it is a lighter, fruitier wine than either Champagne or Franciacorta.

Which frustrates Franciacorta producers like Matteo Gazziero from Borgo La Gallinaccia, who shared our table at Il Mosnel and we drank his Franciacorta with dinner. With production of Prosecco set to grow fivefold, trying to set Franciacorta apart from this ubiquitous fizz will become an even tougher challenge.

I’ll be doing my bit this Christmas though. I’ll be opening a bottle of Ca’ del Bosco Cuvée Prestige. Made primarily from Chardonnay, and spending more than two years on its lees, this Franciacorta has a brioche and caramel depth, brought up sharply by a tangy citrus finish. Luxurious and undemanding, it’s my perfect drink to accompany the opening of presents. And giving them… of course!

Footnote

I attended the dinner at Il Mosnel as part of the EWBC conference. The chef was Stefano Cerveni from the Michelin-starred restaurant Due Colombe. Dark violet potatoes with bright coral prawns and an off-white creamy, sour sauce and a saffron risotto with ribbons of melted burrata and a licorice kick were the two dishes which stood out, not only because of their combination of flavours but their stunning colours.