Blend your way out of a corner

First things first. Don't try this at home. On the assumption that you follow the Huckleberry Finn principle and do the opposite of what I suggest, let's proceed. Am off to Spain tomorrow for a trip around Galicia - I'm expecting a version of Catalonia but with more in-breeding and more drinkable wines...

As a farewell meal, and to celebrate the two bairns receiving especially complimentary school reports, we spent an afternoon trudging around for a new curtain pole and then going to watch Kung Fu Panda - 5/10, some funny bits but very crap philosophically in that you-have-the-power-within-you type of way. On return Chez De Bois, it was already early evening, so I hastily bunged some chicken bits, chopped onions, garlic, herbs etc. into a very hot oven - OK, as hot as a built-in Whirlpool will manage - before proceeding to mount the curtain pole - desist with your fnarr, fnarr's. An hour later, the pole and the chook were both ready, but I'd forgotten to get something to drink. First port of call was Elio Grasso Gavarini Langhe Nebbiolo 2006. Unoaked quasi-Barolo, from one of Piedmont's top estates. Sadly not the right choice, at least for the occasion. With a little more persuasion, it began to show lovely wild, ferrous yet shy flavours, and the promise of further pleasures for the patient, but straight from the cellar, it was a sulky adolescent.

Next try, South Australia, and Noon Eclipse 1998. I know, a massive change of tack. But I remember visiting McLaren Vale in 1999 when I was the guest judge at the regional show there and being very impressed by Master of Wine Drew Noon's rich yet subtle reds. He even featured in my speech at the judge's dinner - I'm afraid I sang, 'Drew Noon, you saw me standing alone...' On return to blighty, bought a mixed case of 1998 Noon reds (Isabella's birth year) and I think this is the first I've uncorked (and yes, I bought them before Parker showered them with points). And a lovely wine it is too, rich, but not one of those fruit bombs, lush in the right places, but with genuine terroir characters emerging. Full of those slightly ever-so-minty, tar-like edges that many beefier Aussie reds acquire with time, and very much fighting fit on its 10th birthday. And yet... I don't know what was the problem, but it just didn't Do The Do with the chicken.

And so the blend was born. The Nebbiolo was young, perfumed, and gawky, the Eclipse more bumptious, yet still with fine bone structure beneath it's larger exterior. Both had a tar-like edge, neither was a bimbo. And the blend? The 50-50 mix that is fuelling this post seems to extract all the fine points of each wine. It has the vigour, perfume and ferrous edge of the Grasso, plus the earthier, plusher liquorice edges of the Noon. A lovely combination that tonight at least - and this is after giving both constituents a chance to open up and show more of their true colours - is better than the sum of the parts.

But as I said at the start, DON'T try this at home

Brazil - promising wine, shame about the name...

Brazil, or for those of a Latino bent Brasil. Land of carnival, poetic football and strange body hair arrangements. Winewise, it's so far not made the same degree of splash as its fellow South Americans Chile and Argentina. Even Uruguayan wines are easier to track down. But Pele's homeland offers some surprisingly good grog. 'No we don't do two harvests a year,' I was told in no uncertain terms at the recent London Wine Fair by one of the country's many impossibly gorgeous, doe-eyed beauties. 'They only do that in the north.' And it's true. The climate is such in the tropical reaches of northern Brazil that there's not much difference between the seasons. Clever farmers can irrigate their vines in such a way that they do get two crops a year - five in two years, if they really go for it.

But further south, grape growing is far more conventional, and there are a number of producers whose wines are seriously tasty. Names to look out for are Salton (not to be confused with Boots' sun-tan lotion...), Lidio Carraro and Miolo. And it's a Miolo wine that's in the glass in front of me. No, it's not the Merlot, which could compete with some rather more rarefied Merlots from other parts of the world. Nor is it the elegant Bordeaux lookalike RAR. And it's not the Quinta do Seival, made from the Portuguese grapes Touriga Nacional, Alfrocheiro and Tinta Roriz. But this 2005 blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Tannat is still very attractive, with juicy berry fruit and something of the cherry and chocolate dryness of Tannat lurking in the background. The only carp I have about it is the name. You want a name something that speaks of a dynamic, passionate young country, a name as sexy and svelte as Gisele Bundchen, as lively as the Mardi Gras, a name like....Gran. That's right, Gran. GRAN?!? Never mind Gisele, Gran puts you more in mind of Liz Smith.... So Miolo, tasty wine, fully deserving a wider audience, but as far as the moniker is concerned, you need to go back to the drawing board.

And for the rest of you, the place to find some of the excellent Miolo reds in the UK is through Coe Vintners.

Coo-ee Pouilly

'Would your mum like this?'

Jill's mum is lovely, but where wine is concerned, she doesn't stray too far beyond the safe haven of cheap new World Chardonnay. But New World Chardonnay isn't what it was. Where once it could be caricatured as the juice from tinned fruit cocktail (the sort that had ONE oddly coloured, peculiarly small cherry in it) infused with a couple of 2-by-4's, today there seems to be a welcome move towards wines that are lighter and fresher, less oaky but more drinkable. The sort of wine I was supping tonight, in fact. Only this wasn't New World Chardonnay, it was a white Burgundy in the shape of the 2007 Domaine Cordier Mâcon Terroir de Charnay (as you'd pronounce 'Chardonnay' after a few glasses too many). Delicious, moreish wine, lively and zesty, and with a bit of a story to tell beyond the 'I'm a lovely apple-y wine' intro. Under a tenner at Majestic - a good price for a tasty wine from a star producer.

For me the Mâconnais is a happy-hunting ground for those looking for a halfway house between stereotypical New World and Old World Chardonnay. When the winemaker gets it right - and increasing numbers do - it's ripe, but it doesn't stray into overripeness, it's fruity but it's not JUST fruity, and it's complex without being too bookish. Spurred on by the Cordier wine, I delived in the cellar and found a Château des Rontets 2000 Pouilly-Fuissé Clos Varambon. This is where Mâconnais Chardonnay - and Pouilly-Fuissé is the top spot in the Mâconnais - differs from most New World Chardonnay. The wine was approaching its eighth birthday in vigorous middle age, still fruity, but with more interesting nutty notes on top of the classic apple crumble and quince flavours, and with an almost briny edge - the fact that the last glass tasted better than the first suggested that it still had plenty of life ahead of it. The excellent Vine Trail stocks younger vintages

I have a strong feeling that my mother in law would have loved both wines, probably the zippier Cordier before the ever-so-slightly louche Rontets, but she wasn't here, and the assembled company haven't even leave her any dregs to try tomorrow. Sorry Beryl, have to save your conversion to the Burgundian cause for another day.

TMI

The Alexei Sayle line is, 'Is it me, or is it bald, fat and Scouse in here?'

The Simon Woods line is, 'Is it me, or are people missing the point in giving info on wines to normal people?'

Let's transfer a typical spiel into a different genre...

'This hand-crafted cheese comes from Daisy and Annabel, two five-year-old Fresians who graze on south-west facing slopes of rye, vetch and wheatgrass at altitudes between 1000m and 1200m in the French Alps. They are milked in the state-of-the-art dairy at 5am and their milk is then stirred for ten minutes anti-clockwise before rennet (sourced from from the stomach of Daisy's now-deceased daughter Buttercup) and the juice of two organic Valencian limes is added. The mixture is then stored in a new Italian stainless steel bucket for two hours etc. etc.'

Is it any wonder that many people just flit past the wine coverage in mags and newspapers?

Make mine a Becks - wine, that is

News is that David Beckham has bought his wife a vineyard in Napa Valley. Apparently the produce will be just for friends and family, but maybe the talented twosome are looking for things to do once Becks hangs up his boots. Footballers Wines, and all that. Makes you wonder what the new brew will be called. Both Chateau David and Chateau Victoria already exist. But Domaine Ballons d'Or has a certain ring to it...

(New) World Weary

Maybe it was my mood - dicky tummies all round chez Woods this week, probably the result of too much birthday cake (Isabella was 10 on Monday) . Maybe it was just the range of wines - a clutch of non-European reds that had been threatening to fall off the sample rack and create purple havoc on the carpet. But it's a rare occasion when I open a dozen bottles of wine - some of it £20+ - without finding something I want to drink that evening. However, it happened this lunchtime...

There was nothing I could complain loudly about in any of the wines. Nothing corked (most had Stelvins), nothing faulty, nothing too ripe, nothing too green, but just nothing that made me want to swallow the wines rather than spit them into the sink. The list included three wines from Howard Park, formerly one of Western Australia's top wineries, but on the strength of this trio (Leston Shiraz, Scotsdale Cabernet and the Cabernet/Merlot), struggling to keep up with others. There was Redbank, whose wines used to represent the best of Central Victoria. Admittedly it was Long Paddock rather than the superior Sally's Paddock, but it didn't make me want to trade up to the superior cuvée. There was Chapel Hill Shiraz from McLaren Vale, which was competent, better than competent, with bags of fruit and an earthy edge to boot. Good, but not what I want to drink - I want something with a little more soul. There were two reds from a Cape winery called Ondine, both promising but marred by the smoky rubber/bonfire edge which even my kids can spot. And from South America, there were a reduced*** Argie Cabernet and a a so-so Rapel Cabernet. A sign of just how banal the wines were is that the Blackburn & James Californian Merlot - £6.99 from the Co-op - was actually one of the better wines.

So I'm heading back into the cellar to find something I want to drink tonight. It will probably be a slightly faulty Old World offering, but so what? There's too much clean and sterile wine - I prefer wine with a few battle scars.


*** ever smelt that odd rubbery/metallic fizzy smell (you know what I mean by a fizzy smell...?) that you get when you open a can of beer? That's reduction - the opposite of oxidation, for those who can remember any school chemistry. In small amounts, it can benefit a wine, but in excess, it squashes the flavours.

Weird Weekend Whites

A week at the International Wine Challenge hasn't diminished my enthusiasm for decent juice. However, a final day of first round judging that saw our panel bin a number of bland, boring wines - fault-free but character-free too - left me craving something decidedly left-field (when did I start using the term 'left-field'? How many Brits are aware that the phrase relates to the University of Illinois College of Medicine?)

So it's been weird white weekend - not a plethora of them, but just a couple that are off the beaten track. The first will probably always be so. Nero di Troia is one of those intriguing grapes that is making southern Italy such a happy hunting ground for fascinating red wines. Cantine Carpentiere does make a red version, but they also use it for a pink and a white too. The official authorities don't recognise the white form, so the 2006 version available from For The Love of Wine (01359 270377, ian.steel@fortheloveofwine.co.uk) doesn't state its vintage. But for a tenner, it's a delight, and if you'd told me it was an Alsace Pinot Gris with a hint of Gewurz, I'd have believed you - plump, lush smoky peach with floral edges, naughty but nice, like Bet Lynch in her prime. Fatty pork, pongy cheese or - if your conscience will stand it - foie gras.

Hopefully the second will become better known. Galicia - north west Spain - is best known wine-wise for the Albariños of Rias Baixas. The Spaniards hail them as their country's finest whites, but I'm still to be fully convinced. I'd put in a word for the Verdejos of Rueda - look out for Bellondrade y Lurton in particular - and the Godellos of Valdeorras. Am currently squaffling my way through the Val de Sil Godello Sobre Lias 2006, a white with punch, personality, grip and authority, and a big peachy booty to boot. It's too butch for most seafood, although a lobster wouldn't carp (might as well remain on the marine side - and marine is an anagram of remain). But I had a glass of this lunchtime with an extremely pleasant and equally garlicky chicken salad butty - yum to the power of yum***. Find it for £10.75 at Laymont & Shaw - the web-site says 2005, but they should be on 2006 by now.

*** yum>1, for the mathematically-minded

Challenged

The relief of finally being back on proper wines after my session with the brands is immense. Rather than reach for magnums (magna?) of numerous grands crus, I've eased myself back into the groove gently, with wines in the £10-£15 bracket. Star of these has been the Château de Fosse Seche Saumur Blanc ‘Arcane’ (~£12.50 Top Selection), a rich but dry Chenin Blanc whose appley yumminess wooed the senses, while its more profound minerally side wowed the intellect. Just a super, super wine.

However, I'm about to inflict further punishment on my palate. I'm writing this on the 18:50 from Leeds to London where tomorrow sees the start of the International Wine Challenge. My first UK wine job was as a spittoon emptier-cum-bottle bagger-cum-cork puller on the Challenge, and I spent a number of years as coordinator of the competition. It's been a roaring success, and as a result - this is Britain after all - has come in for some flak, in particular about the quality of judges. In my time, the disparaging term used was 'Oddbins managers'. Never mind that the typical Oddbins/Majestic manager of that era used to taste far more widely than the old duffers who got their MWs back in the Dark Ages, nor that were are many high-up members of the wine trade who seemed incapable of spotting corked bottles, the mud stuck.

Now, wannabe judges have to show their mettle before becoming full judges, but even here, some bad 'uns still slip through the net. I remember chairing a panel a couple of years ago where we were tasting Barossa Shiraz. It's not my favourite style of wine, but there were several absolutely classic wines and I marked all of them highly. The other two tasters struggled to find a bronze medal between them. What's the problem with them, I asked one. 'I never drink wines like this....'

The latest tightening-up on the judging front is to sign up panel leaders for the whole competition in order to maintain some sort of consistency. So for most of the next fortnight, I'm living out of a suitcase by night and tasting at the Barbican by day. Wish me, my teeth, my liver and my sanity the best of luck...

Day Twenty-Two - The Verdict

As I finally sit down to some wine I'd choose to drink, here's a final verdict on the UK's top wine brands based on my experience with them over the past three weeks. So counting down from the - let's be polite - least good to the least bad...
(numbers in brackets indicate their position in terms of UK sales)

10 - Blossom Hill (3)
I hadn't expected a great deal from California's best-selling brand, and nothing I tried changed my view.

9 - Stowells (5)
Without a Tempranillo that I can still unfortunately taste, this would have jumped several places, thanks to a surprisingly good Veneto Chardonnay/Pinot Grigio.

8 - Hardy's (1)
Eight wines, with only Nottage Hill Chardonnay having something positive to say for itself. And people wonder why Australia's reputation isn't what it used to be...

7 - Echo Falls (9)
As with Blossom Hill, I hadn't high hopes here, but it delivered a little more than expected. Still only OK, but better than mediocre.

5= - Kumala (10)
I'll be interested to see whether a new broom here improves these wines. Nothing too bad on show, but nothing too good either.

5= - Gallo (2)
Hard to believe that the White Zin was my pick here. Nothing wrong with the other wines either, although the Sycamore Canyon pair aren't good value at their regular price.

4 - Wolf Blass (6)
A mixed performance, with a good Cabernet, but some rather top-heavy whites - nothing dreadful about them, but not styles I want to encourage.

3 - Lindemans (7)
Were it not for the muddy vanilla flavours that clouded the reds, these would have scored higher. Bin 65 Chardonnay was as good as any of the whites.

2 - Banrock Station (8)
Solid performance, with the results perhaps skewed upwards by the pleasant maturity of the 2003 Shiraz, not a vintage currently available.

1 - Jacob's Creek (4)
The best by a significant margin, with wines that seem to have been made by a person with a soul rather than by a parrot with a recipe book.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It's been a very interesting three weeks with many ups and downs. To sum up...

1) Jacob's Creek is the big brand for customers to buy and for wine producers to emulate.
2) Please can the Americans stop drinking Australian reds, then the producers might revert to making the wines that won them so many friends in the UK in the first place. Clumsy vanilla flavours abound - why?
3) Speaking of the other side of the pond, why can't California do a brand as good as Jacob's Creek, Montana and Casillero del Diablo?
4) If any wine lover want to cut their consumption, switch to Big Brands - you won't want to finish many of the bottles.
5) As I said here, Len Evans got it right - avoid mediocre wine.

I'll say that again - avoid mediocre wine. Affordable wine doesn't have to be banal - watch this space over the next few months for proof of that...

Day Twenty-One - Here we go, here we go, here we go...

Am I older and wiser at the end of my three weeks on Big Brands? I think I'll save the summing up for tomorrow, but I have a final pair of wines, both from Constellation and both with - in best-selling brand terms at least - sizeable price tags.

Kumala Zenith Merlot/Cabernet Sauvignon/Shiraz 2006, Western Cape
Not bad at all, and a big improvement on the 2006 Cab/Shiraz (although not on the 2007). It's a bit simple, but there's none of that charred/bonfire edge, and the fruit is fresh rather than overripe. Berries and blackcurrants, but the finish is slightly hard - will be interested to see what the new brooms at Kumala achieve with this wine is subsequent vintages. £8.40 though... I expect slightly better for that.

Banrock Station The Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon/Shiraz Reserve 2006, South Eastern Australia
I'm pleased I'm finishing my Big Brand Diet with this wine, as it's among the best there have been. There's punchy red and black fruit flavours, but there's also a hint of earthy restraint plus a smidgeon of eucalyptus. And despite its 14% alcohol, it's still refreshing. A reasonable buy at £9.40, but apparently it will be available at half-price from time to time - if you see it on offer, fill yer boots.

Day Twenty - giddy kipper time

Not much time for writing on this, my penultimate evening of Big Brand-dom, so I'll get straight down to business and a pair of Aussie Shirazes.

Lindemans Bin 50 Shiraz 2007, South Eastern Australia
I enjoyed Lindemans Bin 65 Chardonnay but I've found the reds (see Days 15 and 17) just too confected. This the best of the three, and it's licorice-tinged black fruit flavours are quite appealing. But once again, I wish someone had let that bright fresh fruit alone, rather than try and tart it up with oak.

Banrock Station Shiraz 2003, South Eastern Australia
Yes, 2003. Not many people bother to give Australian reds the bottle age that they deserve. Shame, as even cheap wines can be all the better for extra time in bottle (as Oz's JC vertical showed). Certainly there's a rather attractive meaty character emerging as I swirl the glass. Hmmm, it feels a little hollow, and I don't think it's going to last much longer, but I quite like the mellow fruitiness here, and the relaxed, leather-and-fig-y finish. Doubt whether you'll find any still in the shops - this came direct from Constellation - but maybe it's worth stashing away a couple of bottles from current vintages for 2010.

Day N-N-N-N-Nineteen

'Bored with Shiraz? Why not try [fill in grape of the moment].' I really wish there weren't articles that began in such fashion. Chardonnay is probably the grape that attracts the most flak, but when you question those who pronounce themselves members of the ABC - Anything But Chardonnay - movement, you find that their experiences with the grape are confined to one country and one price range. What if ABC stood for Anything But Chicken, with the members eschewing chook because of their experiences in KFC? Does that make sense? Similarly, I'm fed up with wine producers who say that they are making 'more complex' wines when all they're doing is adding another grape variety. Bolting on another flavour doesn't make something more complex - ketchup on your risotto sir?

Where was this argument going? Oh yes, alternative grape varieties. Tempranillo is Spain's main contribution to the world of grapes, and having tired of the main French red grapes - Cab Sauv, Merlot, Shiraz, Pinot Noir etc - many producers around the world are now planting some. Success so far has been limited, but that's not Tempranillo's fault. Sometimes the clones planted weren't best suited to the vineyard, sometimes it's just the winemaker's lack of experience with that's to blame. After all, a chef used to cooking only beef would take times to come to terms with quail.

So today's theme is Tempranillo, with two wines from opposite ends of the world

Stowells Tempranillo NV, La Mancha, Spain
This is by far and away the worst wine I've tried on the Big Brand Diet - in fact it's the worst wine I've tried since my home-brew escapades last year. Scrawny, and lacking in fruit, with a crude sweetness and some oxidation, it feels like an old wine that someone has tried - unsuccessfully - to freshen up. Avoid this at all costs. For an affordable taste of the real Spain, try Garnacha from Campo de Borja or Monastrell from Jumilla.

Hardy's Nottage Hill Shiraz Tempranillo 2006, South Eastern Australia
A vast improvement on the Stowells, but as I mentioned in my intro blurb, adding an extra grape doesn't make for a better wine. This still tastes like cheap Australian red, with that slightly confected jammie dodger fruit and an excess of vanilla flavour. Once again, why the need for the oak?

(for Australia's best Tempranillo, check out Pondalowie)

Day Eighteen - the age of majority

The whites are all finished and today it's the final pair of pinks. That wine is governed by fashion is undeniable. The latest vintage in Bordeaux gets all the praise and prices soar in the en primeur madness, while wines from the same châteaux that are just as good and have several more years bottle age are readily available at half the price. Lower down the scale, the desire to be seen to be drinking the right stuff means that perfectly decent Riesling, Semillon and even Cabernet Sauvignon are by-passed in favour of inferior Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio and Merlot. Rosé wine has also proved a popular hit in recent years, although anyone with half a palate struggles to see why. Meanwhile producers fall over themselves to release wave after wave of wishy-washy wines whose only positive attribute is their pretty colour. Often the bottles advise you to serve the wines 'well chilled' - this is because they taste foul at room temperature. Or am I being unfair? Let's see how these two perform...

Echo Falls White Zinfandel 2006, California
It's not my style of wine, in fact, I'd be pushed to describe it as wine. But as a refreshing, fruit (bramble) flavoured drink, it's not a total monster, even if I preferred the weightier Gallo version.

Kumala Zenith Rosé 2006, Western Cape Simple, plump wine, like tinned strawberry juice, there's a lot of flavour here, but it's a flavour I associate more with kiddy cordial than wine. That would be fine if it were cheap, but at £8.40, it's not. Hopefully the Bruce Jack-inspired Kumala will be making better wines than this (see coda to this post).

Why aren't both of these on 2007 vintages? I will pour myself a small glass of each this evening - I do not expect either will be finished....

Day Seventeen - and not yet a woman

Whatever happened to The Regents? Can't say I miss them, but I am missing 'proper' wine, as in wine I want to enthuse about. While most of the brands so far have been drinkable, in general they've been the liquid equivalent of lift music. But at least I'm on the finishing straight. Two reds tonight, both Aussies.

Lindemans Bin 40 Merlot 2007, South Eastern Australia
Australia has struggled to get Merlot right. OK, the whole world has struggled to get Merlot right, but given the success that the winemakers Down Under have had with other grape varieties, the dearth of decent Merlot comes as a surprise. Is this one cred or crud? It's actually not bad. It has this core of chocolatey plummy fruit, plus a herbal, leafy edge. But once again, there's this rather crude sweet vanilla edge getting in the way. Why are so many people still cocking up decent grapes by inappropriate use of oak? Here's it's a like a pretty ten-year-old girl who's been let loose on her mum's make-up - she thinks she looks grown-up, but everyone else knows she looks better without the slap. Please Lindemans, you're nearly there with this wine - why not try it without oak for once?

Wolf Blass Yellow Label Cabernet Sauvignon 2006, South Australia
Used to work in a place in Melbourne called Albert Park Cellars. We had tastings every weekend, and each Friday afternoon, this guy would come in, try what was on show but still buy the same wine - Wolf Blass Yellow Label. One week, Petaluma wines were on tasting, and he was so impressed that he left with a bottle of their Chardonnay. 'Great, we've cracked it,' we thought.The next week, he was back to taste the wines - and buy a bottle of Wolf Blass Yellow Label - grrrr. How's the 2006? Actually rather nice, with lush berry and plum flavours, something like mint or eucalyptus lurking in the background, and a soft finish. There is a note of vanilla-y oak here, but unlike in the Bin 40, here it's in balance with the rest of the wine. And while it's not a crime to drink it now, I wouldn't be surprised to see it still going strong in 2012.

Day Sixteen - it's raining in my heart

It's raining outside too, but it's wetter in my heart. No, Jill hasn't left me, it's just that at that time of day when I'm normally pulling the cork on something appealing, I find myself with three bottles of wine that I'm not expecting much from. Still, if I start with my expectations low, then I may be pleasantly surprised. And in the wines I've tried so far, it's not been entirely depressing. Jacob's Creek is still the star turn, but I hadn't expected Echo Falls and Stowells to perform as they did. I'll be on more from both labels in the next few days, but today I'm trying Chardonnay blends, two of them from Banrock Station, the eco-friendly bit of Hardy's Australia, or Constellation Wines as I think it's now called. Yes, there is a Banrock Station with vineyards, but as with Jacob's Creek, very little of the wine under the label comes from there.

Banrock Station Colombard Chardonnay 2005, South Eastern Australia
I'd have expected a younger vintage of a wine like this - let's see if it's showing its age. Hmm, the Colombard freshness has dissipated leaving a rather simple Chardonnay with reasonable lychee and peach flavour, but none of the zip it would have had a couple of years ago.

Banrock Station The Reserve Chardonnay Verdelho 2006, South Eastern Australia
This is a bit fresher. It's also a bigger wine, but it's not overblown, with the musky pear edge of Verdelho adding extra layers to the peach'n'citrus Chardonnay. It's not as butch as Thursday's Chardonnays, although its extra subtlety doesn't mean it's a more interesting wine - still think I'd take Bin 65. Not a smart buy at its regular price of £9.40, but look out for half-price deals from time to time.

Wolf Blass Red Label Chardonnay/Semillon 2007, South Eastern Australia
The Blass Chardie was the plumpest on Thursday, and it's also the most buxom of today's trio. My mouth is left feeling rather overwhelmed by both ripeness and by the 'heat' of alcohol, even though it's only 13%. Not a style I admire or want to encourage, like a fat girl wearing a thong.

Day Fifteen - This time next week...

As someone who cut their wine teeth in Australia, and whose sister, uncle, aunt, cousins and various other rellies live there, I'm favourably disposed to Down Under. My first wine trade job was picking grapes in the Yarra Valley, while my second was working in a Melbourne bottle shop (our closest rival was at the time managed by Jeff Sinnott, who now makes great wines in New Zealand). But while ten years ago, I'd have pointed those in search of decent, affordable and reliable red wine to the Aussie aisles, now I'd direct them elsewhere - Chile, southern France, central Spain, southern Italy, Portugal. As volumes have grown, too many of the wines seem to have lost their souls. How do the current crop compare?

Lindemans Bin 55 Shiraz/Cabernet 2007, South Eastern Australia
Gentle, juicy but too varnish-like for pleasure, and with that really unpleasant claggy, daggy vanilla character cocking it up. Is it just too young? Yesterday's Chardonnay was the pick of the trio, but on current showing, this is just factory wine.

Hardy's Stamp Series Shiraz/Cabernet 2006, South Eastern Australia
If I wanted black fruit pastilles, I'd buy black fruit pastilles. Sorry Hardy's but I just don't get on with this at all. I want my wine to have a little edge, not be just confected and blobby.

Wolf Blass Red Label Shiraz/Cabernet 2006, South Eastern Australia
The old joke goes, Why did the Irishman wear three condoms? To be sure, to be sure, to be sure. This wine has sure-ness, safe-ness written all over it. Those who remember school-level chemistry may remember that reduction is the opposite of oxidation. This wine just hasn't had enough exposure to air, as is evident by the 'reduced' smell - like metallic, rubber wafer biscuits, and artificially 'bright' fruit flavours. Minor reduction can dissipate with time in the glass - this seems to be here to stay. Where's the spice? Where's the gutsy fruit? Where - and I find it bizarre to be saying this - is the unsubtle but alluring oak? Gave it to Jill and she said, 'Like you'd get in a cheap French cafe...'

I find it a sad day when Australia, the country which for many people invented everyday red wine, has a trio like this in its best-sellers. And I also find it astonishing in what is patently a red-wine country that for each of these brands, the Chardonnay outclasses the Shiraz/Cabernet. So tonight, Matthew, I may go and see if there is anything left in yesterday's Chardonnay bottles.

Day Fourteen - don't they all taste the same?

'They all taste the same to me...' I've heard such a line trotted out by two quite different groups of people. Firstly, by people like my mum, a wise, funny woman, whose generous nature is only sometimes undermined by her acerbic wit. I've given up trying to appeal to her tastebuds which seem to react to food but - through stubbornness I suspect - refuse to be wooed by wine. And when she says that 'they' - all wines in other words - all taste the same, I resist the urge to say, 'Oh, and you've tried all of them of course.' A lost cause, but I'll keep plugging away.

The second group are the wine snobs, those who poo-poo others who drink beneath their level. A constant diet of classed growth clarets/Parker-95+-ers has made them lose touch with what normal people drink. From a sloitary experience several years ago, they think they know what bog-standard Australian Chardonnays are like - 'They all taste the same...'

Sadly some wine writers fall into this latter category, but not of course yours truly. So the next couple of sessions are going to see my trying the wares of a trio of Australia's most famous names. Shiraz/Cabernet tomorrow, but today it's Chardie.

Lindemans Bin 65 Chardonnay 2007, South Eastern Australia
The back-label description has this word 'stonefruit' on - when did this (like vanillin) become common parlance? Anyway, this is what I call Ronseal wine, in that it does what it says on the tin/bottle. The easy melon and peach (that's one of the stonefruit family) flavours are gentle and soothing, and that edge of slightly resinous oak that poked out a bit to start with seems to be receding. There's some crispness to the finish too. Pas mal at all...

Hardy's Nottage Hill Chardonnay 2007, South Australia
This is in a richer, plumper style, with the fruit verging more towards the tropical - guava, passionfruit etc - while the oak has a stronger, but still not too intrusive presence. I prefer the slightly fresher style of the Lindemans, but again this is far from undrinkable.

Wolf Blass Yellow Label Chardonnay 2007, South Australia
Wolfie - about whom several books on political incorrectness could be written - is better known for reds than whites and I've found the Chardonnay rather overblown on occasions. This smells more subtle, with a creamy, vanilla edge of oak, rather than a plank assault, and more restrained gentle fruit than the gloopy, tinned-fruit-syrup of the past. It's a bigger wine than the previous two, but - and this is a style rather than quality thing - I find a little too much flavour. I'll qualify that. A little too much of certain flavours. If you want to talk graphs, this just two or three major flavour spikes, rather than a broader range of flavours at less intense levels.

So while I'll keep an eye on the Nottage Hill and Wolf Blass, Bin 65 - tonight I'm yours.

Day Thirteen - Unlucky for some

Rumour has it that teetotaller Nicolas Sarkozy is at this very moment sitting there not drinking the Chateau Margaux 1961 that is being served at Windsor Castle in his honour. Stupid, stupid homme. Me? I'm on more Big blands. The thing that depresses me most about having to drink my way through a mound of best-sellers is that I will have wasted three weeks worth of opportunities to tuck into much better wines. As Len Evans put it, 'People who say you can’t drink good stuff all the time are fools. You must drink good stuff all the time. Every bottle of inferior wine you drink is like smashing a superior bottle against a wall: the pleasure is lost forever. You can’t get that bottle back.'

Kumala Colombard Chardonnay 2007, Western Cape
Simple lolly water that is getting worse as it warms up. When it was cooler, there was a vague greengage-y freshness to it. Now it's turning paunchy and looking rather flat - I reckon it would have been better without the Chardonnay.

Hardy's Stamp Series Semillon Chardonnay 2007, South Eastern Australia
There's a little more pzzazz here, with citrus and guava flavours and some smoky, burnt sugar and nut edges in the background. But this is still basic undemanding wine that the late, great Len would have banished from his presence.

Day Twelve - Boxing Clever

In case you hadn't noticed, two things have changed with Stowells of Chelsea. First of all, it's now called just Stowells - maybe Roman Abramovich was threatening a law suit (the thought of a head-to-head between the Russian oligarch and the world's largest wine company - Constellation now owns Stowells - probably has lawyers salivating). Secondly, as my wife put it, 'Isn't that the wine that comes in a box?' Well yes it still does, but now you're just as likely to find it in its various incarnations - 19 wines from 9 countries - in bottles of varying sizes. 'Enjoy our world of wine' proclaims the label. Let's see if I do.

Stowells Italian Chardonnay/Pinot Grigio
I don't mind this at all. Light peachy Chardonnay, a bit of crisp, pebble-like bite (you must have licked a river pebble once?) from the PG, and a fresh, zesty finish. Simple, yes, but not trying to be anything other than a midweek quaffer, a job it does better than some wines with more 'serious' reputations. And dry. All in all, a pleasant surprise.

Stowells Chilean Sauvignon Blanc
There's something here that leads me to believe that this contains Sauvignonasse, a poor imitation of Sauvignon Blanc (look here for a little background). Where decent Chilean Sauvignon is crisp and pithy, often with a minerally streak (again, think of licking pebbles or slate) on top of the zesty citrus flavours, this is slightly flabby, with a vague nutty edge, and not enough get-up-and-go. Tired, but not emotional.

So fan my brow and pass me a sugared almond, tonight I think I'll settle down with a glass of the Chardonnay/Pinot Grigio - but please, please, don't tell anyone...

Day Eleven - tell me why (I don't like Mondays)

What is it with Californian wine in the UK? I had a bit of a moan on Day Two about the dearth of decent affordable Cabernet from the Golden State, but to be honest I could extend my whinge to the entire gamut of wine. The annual Californian wine tasting took place about three weeks ago, and it was a depressing affair. Yes there were some fabulous wines, particularly from Vineyard Cellars, but anyone looking for good everyday drinking left feeling cheated. Why aren't there half a dozen sizeable wineries that can turn out interesting, tasty wine that can sell here for less than a tenner? Fetzer used to be able to manage it, but seems to have lost the plot. Cline is the only winery I can think of that has been doing the biz for any length of time.

(Another gripe about the event while I'm here - can it be organised next time by people who have actually tasted at a large tasting? Firstly the layout. Three aisles designated A, B and C is fine, but to get from stand A7 to A8 involved walking back past stands A5, A3, A1, A2, A4 and A6 - a complete pain in the Arroyo Seco. Secondly the food - an event like this is not the time for ornate food in tiny portions and food police to make sure you didn't go back for secs. Simple but substantial is what we need)

So it is with not especially high expectations that I set into...
Echo Falls Chardonnay 2006, California
The Merlot from Day Eight was OK, and blow me down, this isn't bad either. It starts out light, and crisp, just as the Hardy's VR did yesterday, but it keeps going in a similar vein, with none of the muddy sweet vanilla edge. Almost Mâcon-y in style, this is a pleasant surprise. Much of it will end up in the sauce for the smoked salmon and mushroom pasta, but a glass or two of this may very well pass my lips.

Its red partner is...
Kumala Cabernet Sauvignon Shiraz 2006. South Africa
Where does that baked/charred edge come from in South African reds? Some say from vine virus, some say from the soil, others say from barrels - no one has a fully convincing answer. You don't have to be an seasoned taster to pick it up - Jill spots some Cape reds a mile off. And here it is again, taking a fair degree of pleasure from what otherwise is a decent wine, plump and plummy, but with a dry finish. However, the last flavour in your mouth is bonfires - not what I want in a wine.

++++UPDATE March 30th++++
Just got hold of a bottle of the 2007 - much juicier, fresher, and with none of that Cape baked edge, nor the dry tannins. Is this the influence of the multi-talented, multi-chinned Bruce Jack, who has been roped into working on Kumala since his Flagstone winery was acquired by Constellation? Whatever, this is a BIG improvement on the 2006...