“UNQUESTIONABLY ONE OF THE WORLD’S FINEST WINE PRODUCERS” The producer is Mr David Powell of Torbreck, a firm in South Australia’s Barossa Valley. I do not know who described him thus; the quote flashes up on the Torbreck website without attribution. Perhaps it was one of Mr Powell’s friends. Perhaps it was Mr Powell himself. There is no law requiring winemakers to be modest, and to judge from the photo of Mr Powell underneath the quote, he is not a man crippled by self-doubt.

I remember Carlsberg beer used to be advertised in Britain as “probably the best lager in the world”. That “probably” must have taken up an entire creative conference. “For Christ’s sake, why are we using the modifier?” some ad man must have said. “Let’s just call it the best.” “Oh no,” someone else would have countered. “This is the UK. Everyone hates show-offs. By saying ‘probably’ we’ll sound modest and reasonable, while really, we’ll still be calling it the best.” Read the rest of this entry »

Many years ago some friends and I explored the Italian South Tyrol. I do not believe there is such a place as Paradise, but if there were, it would not look very different from what we found: Alpine mountains, fairytale castles, exquisite villages, a region whose highest altitudes remain snowy all year round, yet whose valleys are so warm that palm trees thrive in them.

Best of all, this is a land of wine. Its valleys and hillsides bristle with vines; its summer air tingles with the odour of grape. They say Gewürztraminer originated here, in the village of Tramin. This is also the only place I know that makes a really good Müller-Thurgau, Tiefenbrunner’s remarkable Feldmarschall. Better yet, this region makes the finest Pinot Noir in the Italian peninsula. Read the rest of this entry »

I have just read The Judgment of Paris, by George Taber. This splendid book tells the story of the 1976 Paris wine tasting, at which a panel of distinguished French critics compared wines from France and California in a blind tasting. To everyone’s shock, the winners turned out to be Californian.

Every aspect of the story was hilarious. The organizer, an Englishman called Steven Spurrier, did his best to stack the contest in favour of France. Mr Spurrier owned a wine school in Paris, and had no desire to upset the people he did business with each day. So he chose the most distinguished white Burgundies (Clos des Mouches, Meursault Charmes Roulot, Bâtard-Montrachet, Puligny-Montrachet) and the most celebrated red Bordeaux (Mouton Rothschild, Haut-Brion, Léoville-Las-Cases), convinced that the judges would recognise them effortlessly. And to be sure, the judges had no doubt about what they were drinking. “Definitely California. It has no nose,” one declared, as he sniffed the Bâtard-Montrachet. “Ah, back to France,” said another, while sipping a Californian Chardonnay. Read the rest of this entry »