Languedoc-Roussillon Wine

I can't say I know much anything about French wine. Having read a little, I understand that lots of it is really expensive, and that some of it is the best in the world. But generally I'd avoid it simply because I don't have a clue. At a tasting of wines from the Languedoc-Roussillon region, as part of the Sud de France Festival, I tried to educate myself through the medium of drinking. The region, on the south coast, is the oldest wine-producing area in the country, consisting of about 20 geographically defined appellations and - get this - producing more than 40% of France's wine. It's also considered to be the country's bargain basement when it comes to fermented grapes, which has to be good news for the general drinker.

At the tasting, we tried a good few, reinforced by plenty of French tapas, if there is such a thing. It became apparent early on that the region is so massive, and varied, it's hard to describe a "typical" Languedoc-Roussillon. By my reckoning, there was a tendency towards dryness in both the whites and reds, not something I necessarily go for. But every now and then I stumbled across a great'un, where the tannins accepted a supporting role. Here are my top little picks:

Whites

Laurent Miguel Vérité 2008, 13.5%
Made with Viognier grapes, available from Waitrose.
The oakiest white wine ever! Dry, rich, aromatic and substantial. 

Domaine Guillaume Cabrol Picpoul de Pinet Prestige 2009
Another white, this one made from Picpoul grapes.
Green fruits, citrus, melon and freshly cut grass. A top picnic wine!

Leon Barral Blanc Biodynamic 2008, 13%
Biodynamic wine is organic plus, produced according to a number of spiritual principles, with reference to lunar and cosmic rhythms, etc. (read more here).
Cloudy, yellow colour. Full bodied, sweet - a good breakfast wine, someone noted.

Reds

Silene Grande Cuvée 2004
80% Syrah, 20% Grenache, aged for 22 months in French new oak barrels.
This red was my overall favourite of the whole evening. Vanilla-oak flavours, reasonably rich with a touch of chocolate, and a slight dryness ending silkily.

Trois Orris Sirissime 2008, 14.5%
A nicely balanced wine made with 100% Syrah grapes.
Rich and fruity red, with a decent velvety finish.

Dessert

Treloar Muscat de Rivesaltes 2006, 15.5%
A white dessert wine made with Muscat grapes by an English-run family winery. An inscription on the bottle asks imbibers to drink "as an aperitif and with cakes, pudding, cheeses and chocolates". OK, will do.
Clean, green fruit, sweet, but not thick or syrupy, with a little acidity providing balance.

Lots still to learn - but thankfully this sort of learning doesn't feel like work in the slightest. Merci Biens, Les Français!

MORE! The Sud de France Festival runs in London until September 30. Check out the events schedule here.

Sherry

Camino
Kings Cross
London

Sherry has such a poor reputation that until recently I presumed I hated the stuff despite never having actually tried it. A visit to Spanish bar Camino, with its extensive bar facilities, provided a chance to dispel my prejudices. My first false assumption was that Sherry (or "vino de Jerez", made from white grapes near the Spanish town of the same name) was sickly sweet. Not true. Sure, this fortified wine certainly has a richness to it, but it's not desserty. The dryness ensures it's still more appropriate as a pre-dinner bud-tingler than a postprandial ponderer. From Camino's selection of Sherries (Jerezes?) three of us shared glasses of the following three:

Amontillado, Vina AB, Gonzalez Byass
Nine years old.
Appearance: Golden.
Aroma: Chocolate, raisin, almond.
Taste: Not sweet, almond, vanilla finish.

Oloroso Antique, Fernando de Castilla
Twenty years old.
Appearance: Burnt red.
Aroma: Maraschino cherries, chocolate, caramel, amaretti biscuits, Christmas cake.
Taste: Slightly sweeter than Amontillado; prunes and dates, dried fruits, still dry, richer, long, smooth finish.

Palo Cortado, Fernando de Castilla
Described on menu as "rare and very fine".
Appearance: Darker.
Aroma: Sweet, rich toffee.
Taste: Burnt orange, citrussy, slightly more bitter than Oloroso, still dry.

My favourite was the Amontillado, in part because it reminded me of certain whiskies that finish off their maturation in Amontillado casks, imparting a (surprise!) sherry richness to the malt. For similar reasons, I'm still keen to try Pedro Ximénez, a dessert sherry that has also proven a great friend to whiskies over the years. When I find one, reader, you will hear about it.

The Wine Society

Wine clubs failed to interest me for a long time. If I can't work out what I want after browsing the supermarket aisles for 20 minutes, how on earth am I supposed to conjure an order of 12 from an internet list? Then I was bought membership to The Wine Society ("the world's oldest wine club") for my birthday. The Society is a co-operative, and as a member I am apparently a shareholder too. The £40 joining fee not only lasts for life, but after life, since the membership may be transferred to a surviving family member.

Most of the trade is presumably done by internet or mail order, but for those so inclined the warehouse (or "cellar showroom") is in Stevenage, and open to members to visit. We made the trip for a "bin-end" sale but were disappointed - not enough ends on offer, frankly. From now on, I'm sticking to the website.

The deal is a good one: 800 wines on offer at any one time, with new offerings being made available as and when. The prices are decent - equivalent to Majestic, except with the Society you don't have to buy two of the same bottles to secure the 'discount'. Delivery is free when you order £75 of product, or 12 bottles. The Society also sources some wines directly from wineries, and badges them as their own Society expressions at reasonable prices. For a little more, you can try their "exhibition" series.

My favourite find so far is the Society's basic Rioja Crianza (2006), which at £6.95 is the best budget(ish) bottle I've discovered for a long while. It's produced for the Society by Bodegas Palacio, which ironically we tried to visit on a trip to Rioja last year, only to find that no-one was turning up to open the winery that day. I was primed to dislike it, then, but was prevented by its sheer quaffability (think leather, vanilla and tobacco on the nose, with blackcurrant and cherries on the palate, perhaps a little chocolate, refined by that lovely dry-oaky thing that Riojas do).

I plan to use the Society's wine list to sample some of the many different styles and regions that I've hitherto failed to try properly, in an attempt to elevate my wine knowledge from mediocre to patchy. We'll see how that goes.

Rioja at Harrods

If someone had told me a couple of years ago that a couple of years hence I'd be attending wine tastings at Harrods I don't know what I would have done. But there I was, in the poshest shop in the world, making pronouncements about Riojas. In fact, it was a pretty good deal - £25 a ticket, for all the wine, canapes and jamón you could want. Imagine an upmarket happy hour.

I began the session by tasting wines I considered affordable - the Harrods Rioja 2006, for instance, at just over a tenner - in the hopes of taking advantage of the store's one-night-only discount to pick up a couple of bottles as I left. Described as "light and easy drinking", my notes for this one read "dry", rather abruptly, but it was my first taste of the evening and perhaps my palate needed working on. After a dud or two I was tempted into trying Artesa Organic 2007 (pictured below left), which was lovely, with plenty of cherry going on, proving it's not the age that counts, it's what you do with it. Not sure what effect the organic-ness had on the taste, and since I doubt they keep non-organic vines to help us compare I suppose we'll never know.

Shortly afterwards I tossed aside my affordability rule and lunged for some very special Riojas indeed. They included La Alta Gran Reserva 890 1995, which normally retails at £115 a bottle. I know! What struck me about his one, which I recorded as "earthy and dry", and other similarly "traditional" Riojas available for tasting, was how light they were, both in colour and density. For some reason I'd always assumed the older and grander the wine the fuller-bodied it would turn out to be. I've since learned that the opposite is true, at least when it comes to Rioja. Traditional styles are aged for longer, usually in American barrels, which impart that earthy spiciness, and their colour is more like Ribena than the rich, almost black-red wines of the "modern" style, which generally rest in French oak for less time, to produce rich, dense and "upfront" fruit flavours.

The king of the old-school Riojas at this tasting was the Monte Real Gran Reserva 1964 - my parents would have been teenagers when these grapes were harvested. I noted a "rusty" colour, a "thin" mouthfeel, and gorgeous flavours of mint, bourbon and oak, with a long finish. If only I had a spare £135. I KNOW!

In betwixt the affordable and the, er, less affordable wines were a bunch of what might be describable as quality mid-priced bottles. I should mention the Miguel Merino Gran Reserva 2000 ("smooth, chocolatey and light-bodied") and the La Alta Arana 2001 ("vanilla, soft"). I was also pleased to see an old favourite of mine from our trip to Rioja last year, the Finca Valpiedra Cantos de Valpiedra 2006, and picked up a bottle post-haste at the on-the-night tasting price.

Then, towards the end of evening, as I was congratulating myself on having spent relatively little, I got chatting to the guy from Bodegas Ramon Bilbao and was seduced by his Mirto 2005 (right), whose description includes blackberries, smoked wood, toasted bread and nutmeg. Even with the discount, I spent a fair whack of money on this bottle, avid reader, but I spent it for you, since just as soon as I find an event, anniversary or celebration worthy of these grapes (my 100th birthday?) I'll be writing stuff down and posting it here.

Harrods do these tastings monthly, focusing on a different region or style each session, and I can tell you never has posh binge drinking been so appealing.

Le Relais De Venise L’Entrecôte

5 Throgmorton Street
London
EC2N 2AD

This is strictly a drinks blog, and Le Relais De Venise L’Entrecôte, while being many wonderful things, is not a drink. Fortunately, the house red served at this no-nonsense steakhouse extraordinaire is rather good, giving me an ideal excuse to write up the place. Indeed, Le Relais, which has branches in Paris, Barcelona and New York, as well as two in London (we went to the City outlet - the other is in Marylebone), was originally set up by a wine-producing family as a vehicle for shifting surplus bottles. For those who haven't been, the restaurant doesn't have a menu in the traditional sense. The 'choice' is steak - done as you like - in a secretive sauce with frites, plus a mustardy green salad with walnuts to start. The main course comes in two parts: just as you're finishing your first serving of steak'n'frites, along comes a waitress to 'top you up' with a second helping (more on the food here).

The house red, aforementioned, was a 2007 Bordeaux bottled in Chateau de Lardiley, a reliable cocktail of 60% merlot and 40% cabernet sauvignon grapes, weighing in at quaffable 12.5% abv. It was smooth, with big fruit and some oakiness too - paired well with steak. Boringly, we ordered only a half-bottle this time, for £8.50, but now we've got a taste for the stuff I expect we'll be back for a great deal more.

Wirra Wirra Church Block

This wine is a beaut, as an Australian might say. Big, bold fruit, with leather and chocolate, this was rich and full-bodied, but with a dry edge to keep things from getting out of hand. Wirra Wirra makes its wine in McLaren Vale in South Australia, and its 2007 Church Block is a sumptuous blend of Cabernet Sauvignon (50%), Shiraz (31%) and Merlot (19%). Just look at the booze content - 14.5% - that's not far off port! A couple of bottles of this and one of our group retired early for what appeared to be a very contented doze.

Buy a bottle from Majestic here.

Blind Wine Tasting

I'm not quite sure why I enjoy blind wine tastings so much. Probably because they force me to focus entirely on the vino, rather than the un/attractive packaging, as well as prevent me from falling back on my prejudices about this or that variety or winery. Five of us assembled to taste four wines (and many cheeses, but that's not important right now). Before their true identities were unveiled, this is what we found:

Mancini Estate Verdelho Chardonnay, Australia, 2006
My notes: Grassy aroma, sweet then dry, mellow.
Mates' notes: Apples, pears, treacle, hints of marzipan and candied fruit with a mellow finish. Honey, peaches, mead. Buttery with a slight lemon hint.

Leon De Oro Merlot-Cabernet Sauvignon, Chile, 2007
My notes: Burnt aroma, rich flavour, black cherries, aggressive, dry.
Mates' notes: Blackberries, spices, winter warmer, ashes, bitter. Young, astringent, tannic. Bold, deceptively smooth with a striking bite at the end.

Marques de Caceras Rioja Crianza, Spain, 2005
My notes: Dry, vanilla aroma, tannic.
Mates' notes: Deep red, earthy, leathery, round, sassy bitch. Aroma of cherry, smooth, mild, hurts my chest.

Campo Viejo Rioja Reserva, Spain, 2005
My notes: Campo! Oak, vanilla, lovely finish.
Mates' notes: Blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, plummy, foxy. Velvety.

Most of our group preferred the Mancini Estate - the only white of the quartet. I liked it too, but I have to say the Leon De Oro (available from M&S) would be top of my list of buy-agains. That and the Campo, which I blogged about some weeks ago and seems to be growing on me again.

Random Reds

I seem to be drinking faster than I'm writing, which means I'm getting a bit behind with my posts. In an attempt to address this worrying drinking/blogging imbalance I thought I'd use a single post to deal with a few wines en masse. Here, along with a tasting note or two, are the grapes I've been imbibing recently...

La Paz La Mancha 2008 and Vina Albali Gran Reserva 2001 (pictured above): Two wines from La Mancha, the largest wine growing area in the world, each costing about a fiver. The first, a blend of tempranillo and syrah, the second, from Felix Solis, a 100% tempranillo. Both packed decent punches at dinner but neither inspired. These were my second and third attempts at La Mancha wines, following a previous experiment last month, and I can't say I'm impatient for more.

Lauriers Tempranillo 2006 (right): This was interesting - a tempranillo wine from the Languedoc-Roussillon region in the south of France. Picked up from a farmers' market in Canterbury, its aroma was nasty: not unlike feet. Weird, then, that it tasted pretty good; dry, but also rich, and balanced. It was one-note, but it sounded fine.

La Bascula's The Charge 2006 (left): Back to Rioja, courtesy of the discerning dispensing machines of The Sampler. This one was a blend of 70% tempranillo, 25% Garnacha and 5% Graciano. Liquorice, chocolate on the nose, a thick mouthfeel with rich plum, and a dry finish. The description said "Black and red fruits bombard the palate like a calvary charge", and indeed they did.

Cero De La Mesa Rioja Crianza 2006 (right): The first time I had this lovely bottle from Waitrose was during a warm autumn picnic on top of the Sussex South Downs. Regrettably, it was empty far too soon and I only wish we could have dragged an entire case up the hill. My second bottle, more recently, was opened very cold and tasted a little harsh to begin with, before warming and opening up to the point where the soft, plummy fruit balanced the dry, slightly tannic finish, just like I remembered.

Ysios Rioja Reserva

Lovely Rioja, one of our dwindling supply from our Spanish trip last autumn. Glorious aromas of oak, cedarwood, plum and chocolate. This 2004 vintage gives the impression of a rich, full-bodied wine without the density of one.

Palacio Del Marques

Apparently rioja is not the only wine-producing region of Spain. La Mancha, slap bang in the middle of the country, is the largest wine producing area in the world. And because it's not rioja, it's cheaper. I have Marks and Spencer to thank for this bottle of Palacio Del Marques 2008, a blend of tempranillo and syrah grapes that I picked up for less than a fiver. The first thing I noticed was just how boozy this wine is, at 14% (just look at the legs on that, etc). It practically smells of alcohol, in a nice way, and while it isn't very sweet - in fact it's fairly dry - it's extremely drinkable. Never mind the truncated finish, just take another sip! I doubt it will win many prizes, and it does suffer from a rather unrefined quality, at least by the standards of a more rarefied rioja, but I bet a few bottles would make for a terrific 'dinner party'. Chin chin!

Marqués del Romeral Reserva Rioja

I have an unfortunate tendency to trust experts, so when a critic described Marqués del Romeral's 2005 Reserva as one of his favourite M&S wines - "a smooth, mellow, vanilla rich tempranillo blend in traditional oak aged style" - only for M&S to copy and paste said description on to a little card and attach it to the shelf bearing said bottle - I felt compelled to try it. I'm glad I did. This rioja's heavenly aroma was precisely vanilla rich, while the taste was black cherries and oak. Made from tempranillo, graciano and mazuelo grapes, it was on the dryer side, but still finished smoothly. Thank goodness for experts.

The Sampler

266 Upper Street

London

N1 2UQ

How to describe The Sampler? It's not your average vino merchant, that's for sure. This wine shop is also a never-ending tasting event, equipped with an array of hi-tech dispensing units that let you try before you buy. Ask one of the friendly members of staff for an electronic card (pictured right), charge it with however much cash you dare, and you're ready to begin drinking.

The wines are helpfully sorted into different categories, such as chardonnays, rieslings, merlots, red and white varietals, Italian, Spanish - that sort of thing. To help you choose, a little handwritten card with tasting notes is displayed alongside each bottle. The system is geared towards sampling rather than chugging - once you've decided on a wine you hold your glass up to the dispenser and push the button corresponding to the size of serving you're after (choice of three - 25ml, 50ml, 75ml, so even the largest isn't a proper glassful). Prices vary considerably, from about 40p a taste to more than a tenner (for little more than a gulp or three!) from a bottle in the "wine icons" section. But then, some of these wines are almost half a century old.

On our first visit to The Sampler we tried the following noteworthy wines:

Fritz Haag Riesling Spatlese 2004 - "Sweet, honey, faint carbonation, fruity, desserty - good picnic wine."

Reichstgraf von Kesselstat Estate Riesling 2007 - "Sweet, light, citrus."
Mandrarossa Fiano 2008 - "Sunshine, flowers and apples - smells like summer."
Bodegas Navajas Crianza 2007 - "Vanilla, oak, dryish, lightish."
Tour des Gendres Bergerac 2007 - "Smells better than it tastes, quite dry. Would like to try a bottle anyway."

And finally, my surprise favourite (a surprise for me because it was a white):

Au Bon Climat Wild Boy Chardonnay - "Californian. Brioche, buttery, caramel."

Bear in mind that while some of the wines we tried sell for less than a tenner, many fetch more than £20 a bottle - and yet The Sampler enabled us to have a taste for just a few tens of pences. As if that wasn't enough, the 80 wines available for sampling at any one time (from more than 1,000 in stock) are rotated regularly, with different bottles put up every day and all of them changed every two to three weeks. You can even check which ones are hooked up to the sampling machines before you visit. A few chairs and a table are provided for those wanting to take a little longer over their glasses, along with free crackers to cleanse the palate between wines, all of which help make the place feel less like a shop and more like a venue. Did I mention the friendly, knowledgable staff, who are more than willing to give advice without the slightest hint of condecension? If I had one concern, it's that too much of the wine rigged up for sampling - and too much for sale in the shop - is too damned expensive.

Nevertheless, the concept behind The Sampler, a wine lover's cave of delights, is so obviously brilliant that I don't understand why these places haven't taken over already. Hopefully they will soon.

Bogle Merlot

I love the movie Sideways, but what I love almost as much is the bewildering fact that sales of merlot dipped following its release simply because the film's main character, Miles the socially inept oenophile, declares at one point: "I am not drinking any fucking merlot". Having tried a bottle of Bogle I can assert with confidence that I shall be drinking a lot more fucking merlot.

For me, the m-word on a bottle is a reliable indicator that its contents are full-bodied and smooth, but recently, since I began my foray into riojas, I've also become conscious of the cloying richness of some of them.

Then, while in Texas over the new year, I found a bottle of 2007 Californian Bogle Merlot, abandoned unfinished by relatives who had to catch a plane. Generally, in my experience, unfinished bottles are unfinished for a reason, the reason being that they are bad. But this Bogle was not bad, except in the Michael Jackson sense of the word.

To start, the tobacco aromas are welcoming. The wine itself is full bodied, of course, with sweet cherries, but it's also a little spicy. Unlike many merlots I've tried, the richness here is largely held in check by a toasty oakiness that I found surprising and appealing.

Also appealing was the price - about $7 (£4.30) - and after finishing the bottle we hunted down another to smuggle back to Europe. I've since found Bogle for sale in the UK, but inevitably, and depressingly, it costs more than it should. Still, anyone eager to try a more interesting merlot might want to give it a punt regardless (pairs well with re-runs of Sideways).

Campo Viejo Rioja Reserva

Having enjoyed Campo Viejo's Crianza, and also its Gran Reserva, it was time to have a go on the middle sibling - the Reserva. This 2005 vintage, aged 18 months in oak, is smooth with some spice, suggesting rich, jammy blackcurrant - another decent rioja. Nevertheless, if I was being harsh, I might say it sits somewhat awkwardly between the chugging capability of the Crianza and the more substantial Gran. I seem to recall the label boasting about flavours of "cigar box", to which I must add, ruefully, "but no cigar".

Basilica Cafaggio (Chianti Classico)

Having enjoyed a deliciously chocolatey wine from Texas, made from 50% Sangiovese grapes, I challenged myself to go forth and seek out this grape for further scrutiny. And so, on a visit to M&S, I picked up a bottle of Basilica Cafaggio's Chianti Classico, made with 100% Sangiovese (a varietal, I believe they call it). I am happy to admit that my knowledge of wine is - how shall we say? - undeveloped, and my preferences rather vague, aside from a general fondness for Spanish riojas and Californian reds. So this was a wine mission into the unknown, inspired by that unforgettable line from All The President's Men: "Follow the grapes".

It soon became clear that Sangiovese, shorn of its accompanying Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot and rendered as a Chianti Classico, is a very different cup of tea. This wine was acidic, dry; like tart cherries. Medium bodied and savory, rather than sweet, it tasted like essence of grape, without any of the oak and vanilla and chocolate and, well, fun stuff. I think the key word here may be tannic. To be reasonable, it did become more drinkable after a few gulps, and went much better with dinner (cheese). Still, this was unexpected.

FACT! Chianti Classico is one of eight districts of the Chianti wine region, in Italian Tuscany.

Lone Star Reserve

Put away your prejudices: there is such a thing as a fine Texan wine. I know for I have tried it. Admittedly, my eureka moment, on a visit to quaintish town Fredericksburg in the heart of the Hill Country wine region, followed more than half a dozen tastes of sickly sweet reds that I wouldn't have wished on anyone.

But the Lone Star Reserve (Super Texan), from D'Vine Wine, was worth the wait. Barrel aged for over six months, this wine is a blend of 50% Sangiovese, 30% Cabernet Sauvignon and 20% Merlot, and boasts flavours of American oak, chocolate and a hint of plums.

I wanted a bottle but the $34.95 price tag put me off. Fortunately, D'Vine, which ships grape juice in from suppliers before crafting its own wines on site, also sold Lone Star Reserve by the glass - or by takeaway plastic cup.

I know plastic cups are strictly frowned upon as wine vessells, and usually I'd agree, but the prospect of walking down Main Street drinking freely in a way that could see me arrested in less hospitable parts of Texas was too great a temptation.

As I wandered with my cup of Lone Star, it was the chocolate that stood out first - this is a highly sniffable wine. Tasting revealed flavours of black cherries and sturdy oak. It was rich, to be sure, but without the cloying sweetness of others I'd tried. You might even have described it as light bodied, had you been there.

The winery suggests trying Lone Star Reserve with smoked brisket, and I say it would be churlish not to. Until then, I plan to acquiant myself more thoroughly with Sangiovese, the Italian grape variety that functions as Lone Star's main ingredient, and to which I have hitherto paid little attention.

Campo Viejo Rioja Gran Reserva

Having given a firm thumbs-up to Campo Viejo's younger Crianza, I thought I'd reacquaint myself with its grandaddy, the Gran Reserva. Aged 24 months in oak casks (compared with just 12 for the Crianza) and at least 36 in the bottle, this wine, made from Tempranillo, Graciano and Mazuelo grapes, will never be accused of lacking structure. It's super-rich - imagine, if you will, a big bunch of boozy black cherries or a handful of juicy purple plums - with a smooth, woody finish. Campo's Gran Reserva was the first Rioja I ever bought - as little as a year ago (I'm a recent convert) - and I daresay it will always be a favourite. Shared with guests alongside a huge hunk of the most frighteningly strong Pecorino I have ever encountered, this 2002 vintage held its own. That said, it may have excited me a little less this time, than previously. Am I becoming difficult to please?

Buy Campo Viejo Gran Reserva at The Drink Shop here.

More Rioja, Cardinal?

When it rains in rural Spain there's nothing to do but drink fermented grapes. Fortunately, during our recent sodden stay in the region of Rioja, we were literally sleeping above caves filled with wine.

I've already raved about the little winery attached to our hotel in the northern town of Laguardia, a slightly non-helpful raving for any Britons wanting to taste its wares, since they don't seem to be available in the UK.

Neither, sadly, do those of Carlos San Pedro Pérez de Viñaspre - a 500-year-old artisan winery that still ages its goods in cellars eight metres below street level. After being allowed to sample its pre-bottled 2006 Crianza from the tank during a tour of the cellars we asked if we could taste the Vinasperi Reserva 2004, liked it, brought one home (pictured top). It was full of oak and blueberry flavours, a little less rich than other Reservas I've tried, and with a fairly dry finish. Taken with some mature manchego and some leftover jamon and chorizo, it was a welcome reminder of a wet weekend.

A few days later we opened a takeaway bottle of 2006 Cantos de Valpiedre (left), which we first tried in a Laguardian bar on the recommendation of a friendly waitress. This wine, made from 100% Tempranillo, was and remains terrific - smoky but also fairly light, with a complex finish (complicated to describe, anyway). The name of the winery, Finca Valpiedra, means "valley of the stones", and its proximity to the Ebro river and its bed of calcium-filled pebbles apparently makes the grapes taste good. Temptingly, this one seems to be buyable in the UK.

Sainsbury's Mulled Wine

Whether it's getting cold outside, or you just need something to take your mind off bad singing, mulled wine "has your back", as they say in America. I realise I should probably be mulling my own, but having spotted Sainsbury's Mulled Wine in their posher Taste the Difference range for just 3.99 it seemed sensible to try it pre-mulled and ready to go. The label on the back describes this bottle as "a rich and warming combination of silky smooth Spanish Tempranillo and spicy Shiraz mulled with orange peel, cinnamon, cloves and vanilla", which is a better summary than I could muster. We left out the suggested addition of French brandy, since our party still had some walking to do, but it wasn't necessarily missed. After a couple of minutes on the hob, and garnished with a slice of orange, it went down a treat. I'll be striving to share a few more bottles of this winter warmer before the holiday is out.

Mulled Wine

My first mulled wine of the year, bought in Berkhamsted of all places, where everyone and their children were out to watch the switching-on of Christmas lights. One and a half British pounds got me a paper cup of hot vin rouge spiked with clove and cinnamon and... was that orange? It may have benefited from a slug of brandy, but I'm not complaining. If anything was going to make the local choir tolerable in the chilly air it was cheap, warming wine. We left before the lights came on, but we got what we needed.