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The food is miles better than it used to be. You can get proper tacos, Korean fried chicken, great burgers, coffee that hasn’t been burnt to a crisp, and cocktails that would not look out of place in a bar in London. Beer has moved on too, with craft options, IPAs, even better lager is becoming increasingly normal.

Then you ask for wine and suddenly it feels like someone has opened a hospitality catalogue from 2008. It feels like an afterthought.

This is not really a Reading problem. I go to festivals and gigs around London all the time and it is remarkably consistent. The people attending these events are drinking better wine everywhere else in their lives, then walking into a venue and being offered an anonymous sharp Sauvignon Blanc, a pale rosé of completely unknown origin and a red that absolutely should not be sitting warm behind a bar.

I do not need some crazy expensive bottle but it would be nice to have the option knowing you’re not going to hate every sip.

We have changed. The wine list has not.

The strange thing is that the audience for live music now overlaps almost perfectly with the audience driving some of the most interesting changes in wine.

The same people drinking pét nat in Dalston, chilled reds in Hackney, orange wine in Peckham and Txakoli on holiday are going to festivals and gigs every weekend over the summer (Lost Village, All Points East, Dekmantel to name a few going on this weekend alone). Chilled red in particular has exploded this summer, with Ocado reporting searches up more than 1,000% year on year.

Yet venue wine has barely moved.

Part of the large issue is around logistics. Festivals have more footfall than any bar, so you need speed, volume, simple stock management and formats that do not involve glass bottles flying around a field, especially at UK festivals.

But those constraints should actually make the wine option more interesting, not less.

Wine is now available in cans, kegs and smaller formats at a level of quality that would have sounded ridiculous ten years ago. There are low intervention producers making genuinely good canned wine. English producers are doing it. Natural wine producers are doing it. Supermarkets are stocking it, so why are festivals still acting like the only solution is generic house wine?

A festival wine list does not need twenty wines

It needs about five good ones and even that may be overkill.

The first would be Txakoli.

It is exceptionally well suited to a festival. Light, high acid, slightly salty, at times a hint of bubbles, and usually modest in alcohol (8-9%). It is the sort of wine you could drink at 2pm in the sun without immediately feeling like you have made a terrible tactical decision.

Then give me a pét nat - but for those wine connoisseurs, one that is well chosen, not just picked because of its wine making method.

This feels like such an obvious festival drink that I am amazed it is not everywhere already. It is informal, fun, often lower in alcohol than traditional sparkling wine and the entire category already has the aesthetic of something that belongs backstage rather than at a corporate drinks reception.

For rosé, I tend to agree in that reaching for a pale Provence style is best in the sun as it really is the most refreshing option. The only ask is that the balance is right, so the acid does not make you feel nauseous after 2 glasses.

And then there is red. Nobody needs warm Merlot at 4pm.

Give the people what they want. Gamay, Frappato, Cinsault or light Grenache, shove it in a fridge next to the Whiteclaws so it is properly chilled. These wines have fruit, acidity and enough personality to survive festivals without becoming exhausting to drink. A chilled Beaujolais while waiting for a headliner sounds considerably better to me than another pint.

And then there are cans

This is where I think festivals are missing the easiest win.

Canned wine has improved dramatically. The Independent ran a fresh tasting this week specifically around canned wines for picnics and festivals, while The Guardian recently highlighted several producers making cans that are genuinely worth drinking rather than simply convenient. The option I would put straight onto a festival list is The Uncommon English White.

It is a 250ml can made from Pinot Blanc and Bacchus grown in Kent, and The Guardian described it as a standout example of just how good canned wine has become. It is fresh, aromatic and sits at 11% alcohol, which is exactly the sort of thing you want when standing up for six hours at a time.

It also solves almost every practical problem a festival operator has. No glass. Single serve. Light to transport. Easy to chill. Easy to recycle.

Crucially, it is actually wine you might choose to drink outside a festival.

Another genuinely interesting option is Mad Med L’Orange, a low intervention skin contact Vermentino from Provence in a 250ml can. The Guardian specifically picked it out as one of the better canned wines around this summer. That is exactly where I think the opportunity is. Not trying to recreate a restaurant cellar in a field, but choosing wines designed for the occasion.

The price argument does not really work anymore

The obvious defence on this approach is cost. Festivals need margin. Venues need margin. A lot of this is driven in alcohol purchases - which I get. Wine is also difficult to store and serve.

But we are already paying fairly extraordinary prices for drinks at live events. If I am willing to hand over somewhere around the price of a small meal for a pint (£8) or a cocktail (£12), then I would happily pay a similar amount for a genuinely good glass of wine.

The issue is not that people expect festival wine to be cheap. They just want it to feel worth paying for. There is also a commercial upside to getting this right. A good wine option captures the person who does not want beer, does not want a sugary premixed drink and would happily spend money on something fresher and more interesting. That person increasingly exists.

I know because I am that person.

My ideal festival wine list

If someone gave me control of a festival bar tomorrow, I would keep it brutally simple.

Sparkling: a clean pét nat
White: Txakoli
Rosé: a properly thought out Provence
Red: chilled Gamay
Can: The Uncommon English White

That is it.

Five wines.

Cold, bright, simple to explain and actually suited to the environment.

Suddenly, the wine list feels like part of the festival rather than an afterthought. Festivals have already proved they can improve food, coffee, beer and cocktails. Wine is the obvious next step.

Give me a pet nat to start the day, a cold Txakoli at 4pm, a chilled Gamay before the headliner and let’s be honest - still a margarita to go into the night…

I am not asking for Burgundy in a field. I am just asking for wine that feels like it belongs in 2026.

Harry

Better than Bordeaux, better than Napa, and yes, better than Burgundy.

Before Burgundy collectors start sharpening their corkscrews, there is one fairly important caveat.

I have never drunk a £4,000 bottle of Burgundy.

And that might be exactly the point.

When people talk about the greatest red wines in the world, the conversation often becomes slightly theoretical. Romanée Conti, La Tâche, Petrus, Screaming Eagle. Bottles that sit so far outside normal life that discussing them starts to feel a bit like comparing private jets or which Four Seasons is best.

I am sure some of them are absolutely extraordinary and I would very much like to find out. But if the argument for the world’s greatest wine begins with ‘first, acquire several thousand pounds and a relationship with a merchant in the hope of getting an allocation’, I think we are allowed to ask whether another category might deserve the crown.

That is where Super Tuscans come in.

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The sweet spot

The thing I love about Super Tuscans is that they sit in this brilliant middle ground between tradition and modernity. They are serious enough to age for decades, polished enough to compete with the best Bordeauxs, powerful enough to satisfy someone who loves Napa, yet still often carry the acidity, savouriness and food friendliness that makes Italian wine so addictive.

They are also, crucially, just about achievable.

I’m not pretending Solaia is cheap. It absolutely isn’t. Neither are Sassicaia, Ornellaia, Tignanello or Masseto. But there is a difference between expensive and theoretical.

A serious wine lover can save for a bottle of Solaia or Tignanello. They can buy one for a wedding, a promotion, a milestone birthday, or one of those moments where opening something ridiculous suddenly feels completely justified.

Top Burgundy increasingly sits in another universe. And maybe that matters more than we admit.

The Burgundy Argument

Burgundy is probably the biggest threat to this entire argument.

At its best, Pinot Noir from Burgundy can apparently be transcendental. Ethereal, perfumed, weightless, complex in a way that people struggle to describe without sounding mildly religious. I believe them. I have had glasses of Gevry Chambertin and bottles from Côte d’Or, but nothing of the Rousseau, Leroy, Roumier, Fourrier ilk.

The problem is that the wines people use to prove Burgundy’s supremacy (above list) are often wildly inaccessible. So yes, maybe the best Burgundy in the world is better than Solaia.

I just can’t afford to find out.

And that weakens the argument for me. The question I care about is not simply ‘what is the single greatest red wine ever made?’ It is, ‘where does a serious wine drinker have the best chance of actually experiencing greatness?’

That is a very different question, and Super Tuscans make a very strong case.

Bordeaux invented the blueprint. Tuscany brightened it.

Super Tuscans owe Bordeaux a lot. Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, structure, oak, ability to age. The influence is obvious. Tuscany took that blueprint and did something a little more exciting with it - even the architecture.

The wines often feel sunnier and more generous than Bordeaux while still keeping enough acidity and structure to age. And when Sangiovese comes into the mix, for me, things get even better and more balanced.

Sangiovese brings acidity, sour cherry, herbs, savouriness and this slightly wild edge that stops the wines becoming too polished. That is why the best Super Tuscans do not simply feel like Bordeaux made somewhere warmer, they still feel Italian.

Bordeaux gave Tuscany the blueprint. Tuscany added better weather, better food and a touch of amore.

The Napa Argument

Napa is the other obvious challenger.

At the top end, Napa Cabernet can be sensational, as proven at the Judgement of Paris. Huge fruit, massive concentration, silky tannins, luxury in liquid form. But I sometimes find that style exhausting over a meal.

The first glass can be unbelievable. By the third, you start feeling a little ill, wondering whether you have the tastebuds left to order dessert.

Super Tuscans can give you similar polish and concentration, but the best examples often retain more freshness and savoury character. That makes them easier at the table, and for me that matters enormously.

Wine should work with food. It should evolve through dinner. It should make you want another glass rather than make you feel like you have completed a tasting exercise. Napa can impress you in the first glass. A great Super Tuscan can still make you want the fourth.

That feels like a win.

The Breadth of Tuscany

Another reason I think the category is so strong is that Super Tuscan does not really describe one style.

Some are Cabernet led. Some lean heavily on Sangiovese. Some use Merlot. Some use Cabernet Franc. Some are closer to Bordeaux, while others feel unmistakably Tuscan.

Sassicaia is not Tignanello. Tignanello is not Solaia. Solaia is not Masseto. They are also making some banging whites that are coming to the forefront of critics scoring in recent years.

That breadth makes the category more interesting than the name sometimes suggests. You are not buying into one flavour profile, you are buying into a group of wines that broke with convention and ended up creating something far more exciting than the rules they were trying to escape.

Achievable greatness

This is probably the phrase I keep coming back to. Achievable greatness. Not cheap, not everyday, not casual, but possible.

There is something important about having access to the top end of a category. If you love Barolo, you can eventually drink a serious Barolo. If you love Rioja, you can drink the great examples. If you love Super Tuscans, you can save, wait and eventually open one of the icons.

That connection matters because it turns wine from abstract luxury into something you can actually build memories around. That, for me, is where Super Tuscans become really compelling. They are aspirational without being completely absurd

Solaia

This nicely brings us back to this weekend.

Solaia is one of Antinori’s great wines, produced from one of the sunniest parts of the Tignanello estate in Tuscany. The 2021 is built around Cabernet Sauvignon, with Sangiovese and Cabernet Franc in the blend. It is exactly the sort of wine that makes the whole argument work. You get black fruit, herbs, spice, structure, polish, freshness and that unmistakable savoury edge.

It is serious without being joyless. Luxurious without feeling completely ridiculous. Most importantly, it is a bottle I can actually save up for, buy, and open on a weekend like this.

The best wine in the world should not only exist in auction catalogues. It should occasionally sit on your table.

Maybe one day I will drink Romanée Conti and delete this entire article. Maybe I will finally understand why people lose their minds over top Burgundy. Maybe a First Growth Bordeaux will make me reconsider everything. Maybe Screaming Eagle will turn me into a Napa evangelist.

Until then, I am opening Solaia, Tignanello and Sassicaia.

And I am very comfortable with my argument. Super Tuscans are the best red wines in the world.

Fight me.

Harry

After another spell of extreme heat, England and Wales have now recorded more wildfires this year than ever before. Homes have been damaged, people have been evacuated and huge areas of countryside left tinder dry. Around 45 million people are currently living in drought affected areas, while temperatures in London reached 38 degrees this week. Mad.

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And this is not just a British problem.

Across Europe, wildfires have been tearing through France, Spain, Greece, Croatia and Germany. Near Bordeaux, fires have burned close enough to the vineyards of the Médoc that I saw some photos on socials showing smoke over the vines around Margaux. The famous vineyards themselves have largely escaped direct damage so far, but almost two months of drought and repeated heatwaves have put the vines under enormous pressure.

At the same time as a direct cause, grapes that would once have been harvested in September are being picked in August. In Priorat and wider Catalunya, some producers have started harvesting at 3am, partly to keep the grapes cool and partly because working through the middle of the day is becoming increasingly dangerous.

Climate change is no longer something the wine industry is preparing for. It is already changing what ends up in the glass and the slightly uncomfortable reality is that some of the wines we know today might taste noticeably different in twenty years.

The Harvest

Wine has always been obsessed with vintage because when you strip it back - it’s farming. A hot year. A cool year. Too much rain. Not enough rain. A badly timed frost. A perfect picking month.That variation is part of what makes wine interesting. But the baseline itself is starting to move.

Across France, harvest dates have shifted significantly earlier over the past few years. In 2026, some producers are once again preparing to pick weeks earlier than would historically have been normal. The reason is fairly simple to explain. Heat speeds everything up. Grapes accumulate sugar more quickly, acidity starts to fall and producers are forced into an increasingly awkward decision —> pick early and preserve freshness, or wait for the grapes to develop more flavour and risk ending up with much higher alcohol and lower acidity.

A Bordeaux that historically sat comfortably at 12.5 or 13% alcohol can, in a hotter vintage, naturally push much higher into 14s and maybe even close to 15. Chardonnay can lose some of the acidity that gives it balance. Pinot Noir can become riper, richer and darker. None of those things automatically make the wine worse - they just make it different.

One of the most striking adaptations is also one of the simplest. Pick the grapes while everyone else is asleep. Workers at some wineries are beginning harvest at around 3am. Grapes arrive at the winery cooler, which helps preserve freshness, and the people picking them avoid the worst of the daytime heat.

We tend to romanticise harvest as wicker baskets, autumn sunshine and vineyard lunches. Increasingly, it might look more like head torches, floodlights and refrigerated grapes arriving before breakfast. But this is what adaptation looks like. And it is happening quickly. Even when I visited Waterford in South Africa last year, they said they had to pick dead at night.

The Drinking Culture Shift

There is a particularly interesting contradiction developing as a result. At exactly the moment the climate is naturally pushing many wines towards higher sugar and therefore higher alcohol, drinkers seem to be moving in the opposite direction. People increasingly want freshness. Lighter chillable reds and lower alcohol. Wines that you can drink over a long lunch without needing a break after a glass and a nap afterwards. The industry is therefore being squeezed from both directions. The vineyard wants to give you a bigger wine. The person drinking it increasingly wants something lighter.

For producers, that makes harvest timing more important than ever. Pick too late and alcohol rises. Pick too early and you risk losing flavour. It is becoming a much finer balancing act.

Bordeaux Spotlight

Heat is only one part of the equation.

The wildfires around Bordeaux this summer have not, so far, caused widespread destruction in its most famous vineyards. But that almost makes what is happening more revealing. The fire is the dramatic thing you see on television. The drought is what the vines have to live with every day.

Around Margaux, producers have reported that younger vines are particularly vulnerable because their roots have not yet travelled deep enough to find water underground. Nearly two months without meaningful rain, combined with repeated heatwaves, has also left grapes smaller and vineyards under significant stress.

Less water means less juice, and subsequently lower yields.

Bordeaux has spent centuries building an identity around Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and a particular balance of fruit, tannin, acidity and alcohol. What happens if the climate starts pushing that balance somewhere else? The answer might be that Bordeaux itself has to change. You can see the demand for Bordeaux not being as strong nowadays as it has been in the past so maybe the change won’t be so bad? Keen to hear thoughts.

The Moving Wine Map

For centuries, the world’s great wine regions have occupied a fairly narrow climatic band. You are taught in WSET between 30 and 50 degrees from the equator. Too far south and it historically became too hot. Too far north and grapes struggled to ripen. Climate change is shifting those boundaries.

England is the obvious example. Thirty years ago, the idea that England would become internationally respected for sparkling wine would have sounded fairly ridiculous. Now English sparkling wine is a serious category, helped in part by warmer growing seasons. And England probably will not be the end of it.

Belgium? Netherlands? Denmark? Higher altitude vineyards across Europe? More northerly parts of North America? Places that historically sat on the margins of viticulture could become increasingly viable. The wine map we inherited might not be the wine map our grandchildren drink from. That thought is both worrying and fascinating.

Climate change is clearly a huge challenge for agriculture, and wine is no exception. Love him or hate him, Clarkson’s Farm has really brought this into the limelight in recent years.

However, warming does not affect every vineyard in exactly the same way. Some cooler regions that historically struggled to ripen grapes consistently may experience more reliable vintages. Certain vineyards at higher altitude may suddenly become incredibly valuable. Grape varieties that once struggled in cooler climates might begin to thrive. It is entirely possible that some of the wine regions we obsess over in thirty years are places most drinkers barely talk about today. That does not make climate change a good thing. It simply means the wine world is going to have to respond to it. Wine has always adapted…

It is easy to think of wine regions as permanent. Burgundy is Burgundy. Bordeaux is Bordeaux. Champagne is Champagne. But wine history is basically one long story of adaptation. Grape varieties move. Styles change. Vineyards get replanted with different grapes. Phylloxera forced huge parts of Europe to rethink how vines were grown. Regions rise and fall in importance.

As an example, New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc barely existed as an international wine category a few decades ago. English sparkling wine went from curiosity to something genuinely excellent within a generation. There is no reason to think the next fifty years will be any less dramatic. Winemakers are already harvesting earlier, picking at night, changing how vines are trained, experimenting with more resistant rootstocks, planting at higher altitudes and reconsidering which grapes belong in which regions.

The industry is adapting because it has no choice. And while some wines may become rarer or change significantly, new ones will emerge. There is something quite extistential about the idea that the great wine map could change within our lifetime. Bordeaux might become warmer and richer. Champagne may have to fight harder for acidity. Regions we currently consider marginal could become some of the most exciting places to drink from. None of that diminishes the scale of the environmental problem facing growers.

But wine has always been an expression of its environment. If the environment changes, wine will change with it. And the bottles our grandchildren obsess over might come from vineyards we barely talk about today. I would quite like Burgundy to keep tasting like Burgundy, but I am also very curious to see what comes next.

In light of everything above, keep tasting those new regions, maintain curiosity and don’t become set in your choices - always explore further.

Harry

They knew which Bordeaux vintages to buy, had an opinion on Suckling and Parker scores, probably owned more decanters than they actually needed, and there was a decent chance they would correct your pronunciation of Châteauneuf du Pape.

Now the uniform has changed. The new wine snob is drinking Jura in a softly lit bar in Hackney, telling you the wine is clean for something so natural with no added sulphur, while a bottle with a hand drawn frog or gnome on the label sits in an ice bucket beside them.

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The funny thing is, both people are doing exactly the same thing - they are using wine to signal taste.

The History

For a long time, wine was a fairly obvious status game. The bottle did most of the work for you. Dom Pérignon meant something. First Growth Bordeaux meant something. Grand Cru Burgundy from a producer nobody else at the table knew probably meant even more.

The knowledge around it mattered too. Knowing the difference between Pauillac (left bank) and Pomerol (right bank) in Bordeaux, being able to talk about vintages, classifications and critics, all of that gave you a kind of cultural capital. Wine rewarded people who had the money, time and access to learn the rules.

The Shift

And then natural wine came along and, to its credit, blew a lot of that up.

It rejected some of the polish, the formality and the obsession with scores. Suddenly unrefined, cloudy bottles, hand drawn labels, indigenous grapes and tiny producers were everywhere. Wine bars started feeling less like private members clubs and more like places people actually wanted to spend time in, attracting good music and a cooler crowd. A beautiful example of what I mean:

Natural wine did something traditional wine culture had struggled to do for decades. It made wine feel fun again and I’ve always said that should be celebrated.

It made people curious about grapes they had never heard of. It made Georgia, Jura, Etna, Swartland and the Canary Islands feel relevant to a new generation of drinkers. It encouraged people to ask how wine was farmed, what was added in the cellar and who actually made it.

But then something predictable happened.

The Dark Side Returns

Natural wine became fashionable. The aesthetics became recognisable. Wax tops. Wild labels. Cloudy whites. Chilled reds. Orange wine in tumblers. The bottle itself became part of the outfit.

And suddenly the status game was back, It just looked different. The old status symbol was a famous label. The new one is a producer nobody else has heard of with a Carhartt gilet and Tabi’s.

The old flex was I can afford this, and now it’s I knew about this before you did. And taste can be just as exclusionary as money.

There is nothing wrong with that in itself. We all use food, music, clothes, restaurants and wine to communicate who we are. Half the fun of discovering something new is telling someone else about it. The problem is when the trend becomes more important than what is actually in the glass.

The Consideration

Natural wine no longer needs defending as a movement. It has won culturally. Orange wine is on mainstream restaurant lists. Pét-nat is in supermarkets. Chilled reds are no longer something you have to explain to people. Independent natural wine bars are some of the most fashionable places to drink in London. That means we should finally be able to say something fairly simple. Some natural wine is brilliant. Some natural wines are genuinely bad.

A little funk can be interesting. Some oxidative character can be intentional. Volatile acidity in small amounts can add lift and complexity.

However, a wine tasting like cider is not automatically profound and a cloudy bottle is not inherently better than a clear one. Once a movement becomes mainstream, it has to survive the same question as everything else.

Is the wine actually good?

That is where I think the conversation should go next.

The Outcome

Drink Jura because it is delicious, not because Jura is cool. Drink orange wine because you like texture and grip, not because everyone else at the table ordered one. Drink grower Champagne because you prefer it, not because prestige houses suddenly feel too obvious.

And if you love Claret, drink Claret.

There are a few trends I would happily advise on.

1. If you are reaching for a generic orange wine because that is what the bar is known for, try a proper Georgian qvevri amber wine instead. The technique is not a gimmick, it is part of a winemaking tradition stretching back thousands of years, and the best examples have incredible texture, tannin and complexity.

2. If you are ordering a Jura purely because it is fashionable, I’m all for Jura as we all know, but do your research on the producers like Overnoy, Tissot, Labet, but also look at other areas in the Bourgogne like Saint Véran or Pouilly Fuissé. You will often find more personality and value without paying for the postcode.

3. If you are choosing a heavily extracted Napa Cabernet because American wine is supposed to be big, try Washington State Cabernet or a Stellenbosch Bordeaux blend. You still get structure and dark fruit, but often with more freshness and balance.

4. If you are drinking pét nat because the label looks good, just make sure the wine is actually balanced. The point of low intervention should be to let the vineyard speak, not to turn winemaking faults into personality.

The irony is that the new wine world is, in many ways, far better than the old one. It is younger, more adventurous and more willing to look beyond the classic regions. People care more about producers, farming, sustainability and provenance. It is all progress for the industry.

However, if the whole point was to make wine less intimidating, we should probably be careful not to build another secret club around it. The old wine snob wanted you to know they understood Bordeaux classifications. The new wine snob wants you to know they got the last bottle of a tiny allocation.

Different uniform. Same instinct.

The coolest thing you can probably do with wine now is stop caring whether anybody else thinks your bottle is cool or not. Just enjoy it.

The one I enjoyed this week. A stunning Chenin curated by a master of wine in his The Liberator series, taken from leftover grapes from the don of Chenin, Alheit Vineyards, for a fraction of the price (£20):

Harry

People often assume enjoying wine means buying increasingly expensive bottles. In reality, the biggest improvements to my enjoyment over the past few years haven’t come from spending more on the wine itself. They’ve come from a handful of purchases and experiences that completely changed how I drink, learn and share it.

If you’re wondering where to spend your money, this is where I’d start.

1. A Proper Wine Glass Collection

This is the easiest recommendation I’ll ever make.

You don’t need hand-blown crystal that costs hundreds of pounds, but you do need a proper universal wine glass, and 6 of them to share at a dinner table. To get technical, the shape concentrates the aromas, gives the wine room to breathe and somehow makes every bottle feel more special.

I’d genuinely rather drink a £20 bottle from a thin stemmed glass than a £60 bottle from a chunky tumbler.

It’s probably the biggest quality upgrade you can make for under £30.

The recommendation:

Spiegelau Definition Universal for all wine types. You can have Champagne, white or red in this glass no questions asked. Thin stemmed and elegant, it’s really lovely.

2. Independent Wine Shops

If supermarkets are where you buy wine, think again if you want to learn more about wine and what you like. It’s the unassuming independent merchants where you discover what you are looking for.

The biggest difference isn’t necessarily the breadth of selection. It’s the people.

Walk into a good wine shop and saying ‘I’ve got £20, I normally drink Sauvignon Blanc, what should I try?’ is a sure way to discover something new. They may give you an Albariño, a Bacchus from the UK, or a Malagousia from Greece. You’ll almost certainly leave with something you’ve never heard of and probably something you’ll love and remember for future purchases or wine lists.

A few of my favourites in London are:

• Shrine to the Vine, Bloomsbury

• Highbury Vintners, Islington & South Kensington

• Porte Noire, Kings Cross

• Amathus, Northcote Road Clapham

• Dan’s, Dalston

3. Travelling to Wine Regions

Every vineyard I’ve actually visited, I’ve remembered the bottle, I’ve seen it in a shop in the UK, and I’ve bought it, because there’s a story attached. More often than not, it has made that bottle taste better.

Spending a few days in Pouilly Fuissé gave me a far greater appreciation for Chardonnay than any textbook ever could. Seeing the limestone escarpments, speaking to producers and then sitting outside with a glass overlooking the vines made the wines feel far more personal than simply reading Burgundy on a label.

My trip through the Douro Valley was another eye-opener. I’d always associated the region with Port, but driving alongside the river, seeing the steep terraced vineyards and tasting the dry reds and whites being made there gave me a completely new appreciation for one of the world’s most spectacular wine landscapes.

And then there’s Bordeaux. Visiting both the Left and Right Bank made everything I’d learnt during WSET suddenly click into place. You stop thinking of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot as simply grapes and begin understanding why they thrive where they do.

Wine is geography and culture combined together. The more places you visit, the more every bottle makes sense.

It also happens to be a brilliant excuse for a holiday.

4. WSET

Passing WSET Level 3 is still one of the things I’m most proud of, but the qualification didn’t make me enjoy expensive wine more.

It made me understand why I liked certain wines.

Instead of thinking I like Chardonnay, I started asking whether I preferred cooler climates, more acidity, less oak or limestone soils. Instead of always buying Rioja, I understood why Nebbiolo, or Cabernet Franc might also appeal.

You don’t need to become a wine expert. You just need enough knowledge to recognise your own taste. WSET 1 and 2 will do just that for you. and it completely changes the way you buy wine.

Link to WSET 1 Courses in London here.

5. One Expensive Bottle Worth Waiting For

I’m generally in the open the good bottle when you can, not when you should camp. Life is too short to save everything until just the right moment, because more often than not, that moment never quite comes.

However, I do think everyone should have one bottle sitting quietly on a rack, waiting for a truly special moment.

Mine at the moment is Solaia from Tuscany. I’m not recommending everyone goes and buys this bottle, but go down to that independent vintner, and ask for a special one.

Every time I walk past it, I think about what occasion will eventually deserve it. Maybe it’s a wedding. Maybe it’s a huge career milestone. Maybe it’s something I haven’t even thought about yet and it will spring up on me.

The point isn’t to collect wine. This was re-affirmed when speaking to the team at Berry Bro’s and Rudd a couple of weeks ago. They urge people not to build cellars on investment.

It’s to remind yourself that there are still moments worth celebrating, and sometimes the anticipation is just as enjoyable as finally pulling the cork.

The funny thing about wine is that a lot of things worth spending money on isn’t actually the wine. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve hearkened on enough on this blog to say don’t buy 2 of the £8 wine, buy the £16 and actually enjoy it. But funnily enough, as always, the experience surrounding wine is what makes it special.

It’s the glass you drink it from, the person who recommends it, the place you first taste it and the knowledge that helps you understand it. And occasionally, the bottle sitting patiently on your rack, waiting for life to give you a reason to finally open it.

Harry

It’s almost impossible to answer because, as I hearken on about, the bottle is only half of the story. Wine doesn’t exist in isolation. It becomes attached to the people you’re with, the place you’re drinking it, the weather and whatever you’re celebrating. Years later, you don’t remember the taste nearly as much as you remember the occasion.

This past week reminded me exactly why I fell in love with wine in the first place.

Within seven days I found myself tasting mature Meursault at Berry Bros, finally opening a bottle of Domaine Labet that had been patiently waiting on my wine rack for over a year, celebrating one of my closest friends’ birthdays with a bottle of Saint Véran in the Oxfordshire sunshine, and discovering one of the most exciting Greek white wines I’ve had in recent memory over dinner with friends at Ruth’s in Putney.

Looking back over the week, there was one grape quietly tying almost all of those experiences together.

Chardonnay.

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For a few years now it felt like Chardonnay had become slightly unfashionable. You wouldn’t see it peppered across wine lists in new bars. Mention it at a dinner party and somebody would almost inevitably tell you they don’t drink chardonnay. In reality, what they usually mean is they don’t like heavily oaked Australian or American Chardonnay from twenty years ago. That’s a bit like saying you don’t like football because Stoke used to play the boring long ball tactic.

Modern chardonnay is probably the most expressive white grape on the planet. It can be razor sharp in Chablis, saline in Tasmania, rich and nutty in Meursault, understated in the Maconnais and beautifully balanced in Stellenbosch. After this week, I’m more convinced than ever that we’re living through a Chardonnay renaissance.

Meursault, Misconceptions and Berry Bros.

Walking into Berry Bros. & Rudd always feels a little surreal. The building has stood on St James’s Street for more than three centuries and has supplied everyone from royalty and prime ministers to serious collectors, yet it somehow manages to avoid feeling intimidating. It simply feels like somewhere that takes wine incredibly seriously. Their team play a large part in this vibe.

The masterclass explored Meursault through a range of vintages, stretching from youthful 2023s back to a beautifully mature but fresh 2002. It wasn’t just fascinating tasting the same village across two decades, it was fascinating seeing how dramatically Chardonnay changes with time and how each year and producer has its own fingerprint. The younger wines were tight and balanced, lots of citrus and orchard fruit, some white flowers and very good acid which will set them in good stead to age. The older bottles had developed some hazelnut, brioche, butter and honey while somehow still carrying remarkable freshness.

Meursault itself is one of Burgundy’s great contradictions. It doesn’t actually contain a single Grand Cru vineyard, yet ask almost any wine lover to name the world’s greatest white wine villages and Meursault will appear near the top of the list. If we want to go technical, Puligny Montrachet and Chassagne Montrachet are the ones that hold the highest classifications. Emotionally though, Meursault still steals the show for me.

There is something about the wines that feels incredibly complete. Rich without being heavy, textured without losing precision and capable of ageing for decades as this week proved. It reminded me that great white Burgundy isn’t simply expensive Chardonnay you could replicate. It’s one of the world’s great expressions of place.

Finally Opening Domaine Labet

Some bottles sit on your rack because you’re waiting for the right moment and others stay there because they become almost too special to open.

My bottle of 2020 Domaine Labet Les Singuliers Chardonnay Savagnin had quietly become the latter. I’d looked at it countless times over the past year, always convincing myself that another occasion would be even more deserving.

Thankfully, this week brought exactly that.

If you’ve read this blog for any length of time, you’ll know how much I bang on about Jura. It remains one of the most exciting wine regions in Europe and Domaine Labet sits right at the very top of that conversation. Exclusive and tough to get your hands on.

The wine itself is unlike almost anything else. Chardonnay provides the structure while Savagnin adds that unmistakable Jura personality, preserved lemon, walnuts, salt, fresh orchard fruit, and just the faintest hint of oxidative character (almost like comté cheese) that keeps drawing you back for another sip. Every ten minutes it seemed to become a different wine.

Opening it reminded me that there is a difference between drinking great wine and sharing great wine. Some bottles deserve company.

Sunshine and Saint Véran

Not every memorable bottle needs to cost hundreds of pounds.

Some simply need sunshine and the right people around the table.

We celebrated one of my closest friends’ birthdays at The Bull in Charlbury, sat outside with Joseph Drouhin’s Saint Véran doing exactly what Southern Burgundy does best. What I loved was I was tasting the Drouhin Meursault a couple days later as above, and you can see the similarities in approach.

Saint Véran often lives in the shadow of its more famous neighbours. People immediately gravitate towards Puligny, Meursault or Pouilly Fuissé, but Saint Véran quietly offers extraordinary value. Ripe peach, lots of refreshing citrus, white flowers and just enough creaminess to remind you that you’re still in Burgundy, all while keeping the moreishness that makes you want another glass.

It wasn’t trying to be profound. It was simply delicious and a lot of the time, that’s enough.

Greece Continues to Surprise Me

The biggest surprise of the week came over dinner at Ruth’s in Putney.

Moschopolis’ Aiora.

It is a blend of Assyrtiko, Malagousia and Xinomavro, three grapes you rarely expect to see together, and somehow it works beautifully. I saw it on the wine list and was really intrigued by the combination of the big 3 in greek grapes.

Assyrtiko typically gives wine an amazing mineral backbone and pretty punchy acidity. Malagousia has really lovely floral aromatics, while Xinomavro, vinified as a white, would typically contribute texture and spice. What it meant was that it kept the wine super interesting long after the first sip.

I’ve spoken before about Naoussa and Xinomavro, but Greece feels as though it’s entering a really exciting period. Every time I try another bottle from the country, be in Naoussa or Santorini, I find myself wondering why we don’t drink more of it in the UK.

If your default order is still Sauvignon Blanc every Friday night, Greece deserves your attention.

Beyond The Chardonnay

Although Chardonnay was undoubtedly the headline act this week, it wasn’t the only memorable bottle.

Hubert Brochard’s 2024 Sancerre reminded me why great Sauvignon Blanc remains one of the benchmarks for summer drinking. Fresh citrus, gooseberry and flint with just enough texture to avoid becoming one dimensional. This was on the wine list at the French House in Soho, a near impossible reservation as there are only about 25 covers but the food was exquisite, huge plug if anyone wants a snapshot of wooden panelled Paris in central London

The bottle was a timely reminder that the Loire still produces some of the world’s most complete white wines, balancing acidity with elegance better than almost anywhere else.

Looking back over the week, I realised something.None of these wines were memorable purely because of what was in the glass.

The Meursault tasting reminded me why Burgundy remains the benchmark for Chardonnay and wine in general, and how in of itself, the nuances uncover such an interesting world of producers working and adapting each year with nature to show the truest form of what that terroir is.

The Domaine Labet marked a milestone I’d been looking forward to for a long time and delivered by the bucket load.

The Saint Véran celebrated great friends.

The Greek blend introduced me to another corner of the wine world over dinner with people I care about.

Sancerre offered a quiet moment with my partner in the wake of a mad week and a mad world.

Wine has this wonderful ability to become woven into memories. Years from now, I probably won’t remember every tasting note from the Meursault masterclass, but I’ll remember sitting in Berry Bros tasting room with my Dad discussing vintages. I won’t remember exactly how many months the Labet spent on my shelf, but I’ll remember why we opened it.

That’s why I encourage you to stop waiting for the perfect occasion. Sometimes the bottle creates it.

Harry

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Michelin Grapes is the latest addition to the famous guide, with Burgundy becoming the first wine region to receive one, two or three grapes in recognition of outstanding wine estates.

Restaurants have stars, hotels have keys and now vineyards have grapes. It feels like the natural next step for a brand that has quietly shaped the way many of us travel for generations.

What fascinates me isn’t necessarily the guide itself. It’s what it says about where wine is heading.

We’ve reached a point where almost everything we consume now comes with a score attached to it. Restaurants have Michelin Stars and the World’s 50 Best list. Coffee shops have Google reviews. Bakeries have queues dictated by TikTok. Hotels have endless rankings and wine has spent decades chasing points from critics like Robert Parker and James Suckling. Michelin Grapes feels like another chapter in the same story from an absolute powerhouse.

The irony, of course, is that none of this started with food.

History Lesson

Back in 1900, André and Édouard Michelin were simply trying to sell more tyres. At the time there were fewer than 3,000 cars on French roads, so they published a free guide encouraging people to travel further. It included maps, mechanics, petrol stations, but most importantly places to stay and restaurants worth stopping at.

The thought process was as follows: if people drove more, they’d wear their tyres out more quickly. More driving meant more tyres. It remains one of the smartest pieces of marketing ever created.

More than 120 years later, Michelin has become one of the most trusted names in hospitality, and now it wants to apply that same influence to wine.

Choosing Burgundy as the launch point feels entirely logical. Few places on earth inspire as much obsession as Burgundy. Tiny vineyard holdings, centuries of history and producers whose allocations disappear almost before they’ve even been released. If Michelin wanted credibility in wine, there was probably nowhere else to begin.

For those vinophiles - these are the 5 criteria they are looking at:

Agronomy (soil vitality and vine health)

Technical mastery (precision in the cellar)

Identity (true expression of terroir)

Balance (harmony of acidity, tannins, and alcohol)

Consistency (across multiple vintages)

The TopJaw-ification of Wine

Twenty years ago, you bought a guidebook before travelling. Today you open Instagram. One reel from Topjaw or World’s 50 Best Restaurants, one video of someone pouring orange wine into a Zalto glass in an art deco bar or slicing into an impossibly glossy croissant, and suddenly flights are booked. The internet has democratised discovery, but it has also turned recommendations into a form of currency. We increasingly want someone else to tell us what’s worth our time.

In many ways, I think that’s brilliant.

Some of my favourite restaurants in London were recommendations from Topjaw. Without social media I’d probably never have discovered Morchella in Exmouth Market, Arome on Duke Street or Brat in Shoreditch. The same is true of wine. Good recommendations make people curious, and curiosity is ultimately what keeps smaller businesses alive.

That’s why Michelin Grapes could be genuinely exciting.

As you can see, some of the biggest (and most expensive) names in wine. Domaine de la Romanée-Conti receives three grapes. It hardly needs the publicity. The opportunity lies elsewhere.

The Direction

Imagine if producers like Domaine Labet in Jura suddenly found themselves on the radar of people who had only ever travelled to Burgundy. Jura has quietly become one of the most exciting wine regions in Europe, producing extraordinary Savagnin, Chardonnay, Poulsard and Trousseau, yet outside wine circles many people couldn’t point to it on a map. A Michelin accolade could change that overnight.

The same applies to places like Naoussa in Greece, Swartland in South Africa, Etna in Sicily or the Finger Lakes in New York State. Recognition creates visibility. Visibility creates tourism. Tourism allows smaller producers to invest, experiment and continue making better wine in what is a very very tough market with drinking culture on the decline and cost of living stranglign our pockets. If Michelin helps shine a light on regions like these, everyone wins.

The Potential Catch

Where I become slightly more cautious is what happens once the awards become commercially important.

The restaurant world has long spoken about chefs cooking for Michelin. When an accolade becomes valuable enough, it inevitably begins to influence behaviour. Menus become safer. Creativity is weighed against consistency. Losing a star becomes a genuine business risk.

Could the same thing happen to wine? To an extent, it already does with denominations having strict rules on winemaking processes but it may get worse.

Would producers become less willing to experiment if a Michelin grape depended on maintaining a particular house style? Would they experiment and plant that new grape from a different part of the world? Would natural winemakers begin polishing away some of the eccentricity that made them interesting in the first place? Would Burgundy become even more conservative than it already is?

Or more positively, would Michelin recognise more daring acts of winemaking and recommend accordingly.

Some of the most memorable bottles I’ve had over the past year came from people doing something slightly different. Most notably, the chardonnay from Prince Edward County in Canada that completely challenged my expectations. None of those wines existed because somebody was chasing a score. They existed because somebody followed their own ideas.

That, for me, is the balance Michelin has to strike.

If Michelin Grapes becomes a reason for people to visit new regions, discover forgotten producers and support estates that deserve a bigger audience, then it’s a fantastic addition to the wine world. My ask to Michelin —> give these producers their Michelin grapes and see how the industry reacts:

1. Domaine des Miroirs - Jura, France

2. Conterno - Barolo, Italy

3. Müller - Mosel, Germany

4. Sadie Family Wine - Swartland, South Africa

5. Vega Sicilia - Ribiero del Duero, Spain

See where it goes!

If it becomes another system that encourages everyone to make wine in the same way, we’ll have lost one of the very things that makes wine so endlessly fascinating.

The best guides should inspire curiosity. They should never replace it.

Harry

Where can I spend four or five days drinking brilliant wine, amazing scenery, eating outrageously well and still feel refreshed like I’ve had a proper holiday?

The best wine trips aren’t necessarily about visiting six wineries a day. They’re more slow mornings, long lunches, hiking and swimming before dinner and a bottle overlooking the sea as the sun goes down.

With that in mind, these are the five European wine holidays I’d book this summer.

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Marseille, Cassis & Bandol

This may be the most underrated spot in France.

Fly into Marseille and spend your first evening with a swim at Piscine maritime des Auffes, and drive a little out the city to Tuba Club for the most stunning seafood and setting. I’d say if you’re like me, avoid around the Vieux-Port, the coastline is what Marseille is about. The next day, head east towards Cassis. Hire a boat through the Calanques National Park, stopping for a swim in crazy blue water before driving to Bandol.

Bandol remains one of my favourite rosé regions anywhere in the world, forget anonymous pale Provence. These Mourvèdre-based rosés have texture, savoury depth and enough structure to age for years. Head to Au Clair de la Vigne for dinner on the boulevard.

This coastline provides everything you need, great walks, options for boats, great swimming, local French cuisine and properly good wine options. Do it over going to the Rhone valley.

Vineyards

• Domaine Tempier

• Château de Pibarnon

• Domaines Ott - Château Romassan

Verona & the Dolomites

This is almost exactly the trip I did. Fly into Verona and spend a night wandering the old city before having dinner at Trattoria al Pompiere for traditional cured meats and pasta. Soave is east of the city and best done in a day trip for it’s fantastic and elegant whites using the Garganega grape, more refreshing than anything after a long day in the sun. Pieropan is my recommendation to visit there. Then head north to Lake Garda via Valpolicella for a little Amarone tasting (go to Dal Forno, Bertani or Tedeschi) before finally going into the Dolomites. Rent a car for ultimate flexibility and the drive up is stunning.

I don’t need to say much about the Dolomites do I?

Hike in the morning. Spa in the afternoon. Bottle of wine in the evening.

While everyone heads for Tuscany, northern Italy quietly produces some of Europe’s most exciting wines, coupled with the views it’s hard to beat.

Vineyards

• Bertani

• Dal Forno

• Tedeschi

• Pieropan

Porto & The Douro Valley

If someone asked me for the single most beautiful vineyard landscape in Europe, this would probably be my answer having visited 6 odd years ago.

The iconic steep terraces, the Douro River winding through the valley and quintas (domaines) perched high above the vines.

I would first spend a night away from the vines in Amarante, a beautiful town where commuters jump in the river and drift back home. Get a terrace table at Casa Herédio for the best sunset. Find your way back to the banks of the Duoro, visit Quinta da Pacheca, Carvalhas and Quinta do Popa for the views. Base yourself near Pinhão before finishing with two nights in Porto.

Drink Port, obviously and eat fish on the waterfront overlooking the bridge. Stunning and vibrant city, pack your walking shoes though it is not flat.

Vineyards

• Quinta da Pacheca

• Quinta do Popa

• Carvalhas

• Niepoort

San Sebastián & Rioja

Where to even begin. For a trip to Spain, I’d choose this over Barcelona and Priorat. Barcelona is fantastic, but San Sebastián is almost impossible to beat.

Spend a minimum of three days here eating pintxos, and doing day excursions. I’m not even going to begin to share food recommendations, there are more Michelin stars here per mile than anywhere in the world - you’ll be fine…

What I will recommend though is heading 30 mins west to Getaria and spend the day drinking Txakoli, a spritzy laser point white wine that always baffles me how good it is. The one I’d recommend is Txomin Etxaniz or Ameztoi.

Next absolute must is to drive a little bit out to Casa Julian in Tolosa for the best steak on the planet.

Then get yourself a couple of hours south into Rioja.

It’s one of Europe’s great road trips that nobody thinks about or does...

Rioja Alta offers some of Spain’s finest wine using Tempranillo, with producers like Heredia, La Rioja Alta, Muga and Ardenza La Alta all basically next door to one another so well worth the trip to Haro. Stay in the town and you cannot go wrong.

Vineyards

• Txomin Etxaniz

• Ameztoi

• Muga

• La Rioja Alta S.A.

• López de Heredia

The Mosel

This is a bit rogue and maybe slightly different in the way of summer holidays but hear me out - for a long weekend, the Mosel feels like stepping into a bit of a Brothers Grimm fairytale.

Tiny villages, castle ruins, slate vineyards clinging to impossibly steep hillsides and some of the best wines in the entire world - this is riesling country. Bernkastel-Kues is probably the best place to base yourself.

Whether dry, Kabinett (off dry) or Spätlese (sweet), few places express a grape quite like the Mosel expresses riesling.

One thing I’d recommend doing: get your bikes and get on the the Mosel cycle path, cruise the river, take your time and visit the wineries.

For those like me who are big history nerds too, you have Trier for the roman ruins, or the 11th century castle of Reichsburg Cochem.

For a different crowd, but just as good.

Vineyards

• Joh. Jos. Prüm

• Dr. Loosen

• Markus Molitor

If I could only book one - it has to be San Sebastián and Rioja.

Not because the wine is necessarily the best, not because the scenery is the most dramatic, but because nowhere combines world-class food, beaches, relaxed culture, brilliant wine and easy travel quite like northern Spain.

Morning swims into afternoon pintxos and an evening bottle of tempranillo. I’m not convinced European summers get much better than that.

Harry

Today, that image looks completely different.The people driving wine culture on social media, and those you see in bars around London aren’t necessarily collectors or sommeliers anymore.

They’re runners. They’re creatives. They’re people queueing for pastries on a Saturday morning. They’re sitting in wine bars discussing marathon times and bakery recommendations while drinking something out there like a Georgian orange wine.

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And because of this, wine has entered the city’s psyche and has become a trend, and dare I say, become cooler than ever. The photo above is from my favourite restaurant/wine bar in the world… Bambino in Paris.

The Death of the Wine Snob

One of the biggest surprises from studying WSET Level 3 wasn’t necessarily how complicated wine is. It was realising those who make the wines are effectively highly skilled farmers, often family generational businesses, and how story driven a lot of these wines are. Not only that, it made me realise you don’t have to use those words above to describe wine, yes it guides you in the right direction and Bordeaux definitely has a graphite taste, but can describe it as a children’s pencil instead, something everyone will have smelled in their lifetime.

For years wine felt intimidating to me prior to study. French appellations. Vintage charts. Critic scores. A million producers I’d never imagine learning the names of.

The old wine world was built around expertise. The new wine world in my eyes is built around curiosity.

It doesn’t matter a huge amount to your average drinker whether you’ve memorised every village in Burgundy, but they do care if you’ve been to Bourgogne and discovered that Pouilly-Vinzelles makes some damn good chardonnay, or that Canadian wine is on the rise.

That shift has been driven by curiosity, and in turn has made wine more accessible, more diverse and considerably more approachable.

The New Wine Drinker

The modern wine drinker looks very different from previous generations. I’ve spoken about this a lot. They’re drinking less alcohol overall. They’re exercising more and love a good Pinterest board aesthetic. And let’s be real, wine is sexy. Wine bars are sexy.

They’re willing to spend £40 on a small plates dinner at a wine bar and have one excellent bottle rather than £100 on a pub night out they’ll barely remember.

I think the way to frame it is: it isn’t necessarily a wine-first generation, but an experience-first generation and I’m seeing wine has become part of that experience.

And in many ways that’s exactly what wine should be. A complement to good food, good conversation and good company. Not an exam.

Wine Has Become Fashion

This is where things get interesting. Wine isn’t just something people drink anymore. It’s become part of culture.

Natural wine bars are opening across London. Orange wine has gone mainstream. Labels increasingly look more like album covers than wine bottles.

The rise of places like Dan’s, Cadet, Planque, Goodbye Horses and 40 Maltby Street has changed the way younger drinkers discover wine.

People aren’t starting with Bordeaux. They’re starting with vibes. Vinyl, low lighting, marble counter tops, an instagram story and a Hungarian Furmint.

And honestly - that’s fine by me. If someone picks up a Georgian amber wine because they like the label and ends up learning about 8,000 years of winemaking history, wine has won.

The Risk

The problem comes when the trend becomes more important than what’s actually in the glass. Every category eventually develops its clichés and wine is no different.

I’ve been to a few of these places and had a glass of that heavily volatile natural wine that tastes vaguely of cider and costs £18.

The old snobs haven’t disappeared. They’ve just changed uniforms. Instead of suits, they wear carhartt cargos, cropped shirts, caribiners holding their keys and a white and green Aime Leon Dore cap.

So what is my recommendation…

Four Wine Trends I’d Gently Move Away From

Instead of Tchin Tchin…

Try Vinho Verde with more complexity.

Tchin Tchin became the poster child for the natural wine movement. Fresh, easy-going, label is great, you can find it in most cool deli’s and it’s fun.

But for similar money, you can find incredible examples of Alvarinho or Loureiro from Portugal’s Vinho Verde that offer more balance, more texture and more sense of place.

Recommendation:

Pequenos Rebentos Loureiro

I had this bottle last night and it went down a treat in the sun. The same freshness. Slight fizz on the tongue but way more substance.

Instagrammable Orange Wine…

I love orange wine, when done right. But there is a trap for a bit of skin contact to drive quite tight wines.

Many examples feel like they are made to tick a box. A few days of skin contact, a funky label, a slightly cloudy appearance and suddenly it's part of the natural wine section. Sometimes the result is brilliant. Sometimes it tastes like somebody accidentally left apple juice to ferment for a fortnight.

So instead, try Georgian Amber Wine. Orange wine became fashionable. Georgia invented it.

The best examples spend months fermenting and ageing in traditional qvevri (huge clay pots) buried underground.

The wines have texture, tannin and complexity rather than simply being cloudy for the sake of it.

Recommendation:

Dugladze Kisi Qvevri Amber

or

Pheasant’s Tears Rkatsiteli

Expensive Provence Rosé…

Get your mits off the Whispering Angel and Minuty.

Try Tavel. Everyone knows Provence, most people have never heard of Tavel. Most people should know about Tavel.

Produced in the Southern Rhône, these rosés have colour, structure and personality. They taste like actual wine rather than pink water.

Recommendation:

Château Manissy Tavel

Instead of Entry-Level Burgundy…

My biggest bug bear, is the price tag even for entry level Burgundy. Anything with a cru label and it just decimates your ability to purchase and enjoy. So instead, try Jura.

This might be my favourite swap. Jura quietly produces some of the most fascinating wines in France.

Savagnin, Chardonnay, Poulsard and Trousseau offer freshness, character and individuality that increasingly feels difficult to find elsewhere.

Recommendation:

Pelican Savagnin Ouillé

or for a super fruit driven red:

Domaine de la Pinte Poulsard

The Best Part

Despite all of this, I genuinely think we’re living through one of the most exciting periods wine has ever seen.

The barriers have never been lower. You can drink riesling from New York, pinot noir from Oregon, amber wine from Georgia, sparkling wine from Sussex all in the same week.

The question has changed.

It isn’t:

“Can you identify the wine?” (FYI, still sick if you actually can, my blind tasting is all over the shop)

It’s:

“What have you discovered recently?”

So yes, wine has become fashionable and I think we should continue to build on that momentum. Keep it sexy, fun, welcoming, instagrammable, but always have quality in the back of your mind.

Salute,

Harry

Let’s be clear - I’m all in on the world cup despite the lack of excitement and press in the UK. But this isn’t a football blog, so I’ll just be focusing on a potential accompaniment.

The wine of North America.

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The USA is the fourth-largest wine producer on earth, yet for many drinkers, American wine begins and ends with Napa Valley. That would be like saying football begins and ends with Man City.

Entirely missing the point.

So I’ve assembled the group stages of North American wine regions and put them through a completely unscientific knockout tournament to decide who comes out on top.

Napa Valley AVA, California - The Superstar

Napa is the Mbappé of American wine.

Expensive, occasionally frustrating, but undeniably world-class.

Cabernet Sauvignon dominates, producing wines packed with blackcurrant, cassis, cedar and vanilla from generous oak ageing. Heavy price tag.

Bottle: Bread & Butter Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon 2021, Napa Valley

World Cup Rating: ★★★★★

Sonoma Coast AVA, California - The Complete Midfielder

Sonoma often lives in Napa’s shadow despite being more versatile.

Cool Pacific influence produces excellent Pinot Noir and Chardonnay, often with greater freshness and lower alcohol than their Napa neighbours. In footballing terms, this is Declan Rice.

Bottle: Migration Sonoma Coast Chardonnay 2020

World Cup Rating: ★★★★★

Santa Barbara County AVA, California - The Dark Horse

The mountain ranges funnel cool ocean air deep inland, creating ideal conditions for Pinot Noir and Chardonnay.

The resulting wines are fresh, vibrant, and increasingly Burgundian in style. Think California with restraint.

Bottle: Au Bon Climat Santa Barbara County Chardonnay 2023

World Cup Rating: ★★★★☆

Paso Robles AVA, California - The Centre Forward

Warm, sunny and unapologetically bold. Paso has become California’s Rhône playground, producing outstanding Syrah, Grenache and GSM blends. It’s Haaland in a bottle.

Bottle: Tablas Creek Patelin de Tablas Rouge

World Cup Rating: ★★★★☆

Willamette Valley, Oregon - The Technician

If Burgundy and America had a child, it would probably live here. Pinot Noir is king. Red cherry, cranberry, forest floor and elegant acidity dominate. Less power than California. More precision. It’s your Messi vs Ronaldo comparison.

Bottle: Resonance Willamette Valley Pinot Noir

World Cup Rating: ★★★★★

Columbia Valley, Washington - The Underrated Veteran

Washington produces some of America’s most Bordeaux-inspired wines. Hot sunny days deliver ripeness while cool nights retain freshness. Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot thrive. Think somewhere between Bordeaux and Napa. Rodri springs to mind.

Bottle: Betz Family, The Untold Story Red Blend

World Cup Rating: ★★★★☆

Walla Walla Valley, Washington - The Cult Hero

Smaller than Columbia Valley but increasingly famous. Produces powerful Syrah and Bordeaux blends with remarkable balance.One of America’s most exciting premium regions - got to be Scott McTominay for the Scots.

Bottle: L’Ecole No. 41 Columbia Valley Syrah

World Cup Rating: ★★★★☆

Finger Lakes, New York - The Playmaker

One of the most underrated wine regions on the planet. Deep glacial lakes moderate the climate, allowing Riesling to flourish so what you get is high acid, lime, peach and incredible ageing potential. If Germany wasn’t available, I’d happily drink Finger Lakes Riesling all day. It’s a bit like Luka Modric - casually winning Champions Leagues for fun under the radar.

Bottle: Dr Konstantin Frank Dry Riesling

World Cup Rating: ★★★★★

Long Island AVA - The Utility Player

The maritime climate means Merlot performs surprisingly well and the wines often feel closer to Bordeaux than California. Elegant, savoury and food-friendly, it’s a solid Defender like Saliba.

Bottle: Wölffer Estate Graphes of Roth Merlot

World Cup Rating: ★★★☆☆

Prince Edward County, Ontario - Canada’s Young Prospect

Cool-climate Chardonnay and Pinot Noir are beginning to turn heads globall. I spoke about a wine from here the other week in a blog as I was really impressed. Limestone soils and cold winters create wines with real precision and acidity. Lush for a summer’s day. Clinical and dialled in, Son Heung Min gets the call up.

Bottle: Closson Chase Churchside Chardonnay

World Cup Rating: ★★★★☆

Niagara Peninsula - Canada’s Captain

Canada’s most important wine region. Famous for Icewine, but increasingly impressive for Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and Riesling. The quality ceiling continues to rise. Has to be Alphonso Davies.

Bottle: Tawse Quarry Road Riesling

World Cup Rating: ★★★★☆

QUARTER FINALS

Napa Valley vs Sonoma Coast

This is France vs England. The superstar versus the complete team (according to Tuchel). Napa has bigger names, bigger scores, bigger price tags. Sonoma has versatility. Pinot Noir. Chardonnay. Coastal influence. Back the boys… Napa out in quarters in a shocking twist.

Winner: Sonoma Coast

Finger Lakes vs Prince Edward County

The cool-climate derby. Both produce exceptional whites. Both punch above their weight. But Finger Lakes Riesling is one of North America’s genuinely world-class wine styles.

Winner: Finger Lakes

Willamette Valley vs Columbia Valley

Perhaps the hardest tie. Willamette is elegance, Columbia is power. Burgundy versus Bordeaux. Messi versus Rodri. In a knockout game, I lean towards the technician.

Winner: Willamette Valley

Santa Barbara vs Walla Walla

The hipster fixture. The wine-bar fixture. The “I’ve discovered something you haven’t” fixture. Santa Barbara’s refinement just edges it.

Winner: Santa Barbara

SEMI FINAL

Sonoma Coast vs Finger Lakes

This feels unfair on Finger Lakes. The Modrić comparison remains accurate. Incredible quality. Incredible value. But Sonoma can do more things at a world-class level.

Winner: Sonoma Coast

Willamette Valley vs Santa Barbara

The Pinot Noir showdown. California’s challenger versus America’s Pinot capital. Willamette has become too good to break.

Winner: Willamette Valley

THE FINAL

Sonoma Coast vs Willamette Valley

The two regions that best represent where North American wine is heading - the new wave as titans are toppled. Freshness over power. Precision over extraction. Site over winemaking.

One region has world-class Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, the other has arguably become the benchmark for New World Pinot Noir.

After 120 minutes, penalties and several bottles later...

WINNER: WILLAMETTE VALLEY, OREGON

Oh and if wine isn’t your bag watching football, grab a Modelo or a tequila soda from Mexico.

Peace,

Harry

A pint is more often than not exceeding £8. A decent cocktail can comfortably clear £15. Dinner for two requires a small Klarna application and a direct debit.

And yet, wine remains one of the few luxuries where spending a little smarter can dramatically outperform spending a lot more. Some of the best bottles I’ve had this year, drunk at home, have cost less than a round of drinks in Soho.

Not because they’re cheap but because they’re undervalued.

The wine world has always had regions that quietly overdeliver while everyone else chases the famous names. There are plenty of areas where quality has improved faster than reputation, where producers are making brilliant wine without charging ludicrous prices.

So, after much scrolling, here are the 10 I’d recommend when next in Majestic, Waitrose, or ordering online.

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Sparkling

Bouvet Ladubay Saumur Brut, Loire Valley, France (£12.50)

Every wine drinker should know about Loire sparkling. Made using the same traditional method as Champagne, but in Saumur they use Chenin Blanc so the honeyed notes are there in spades. It’s also at a fraction of the price. One of the best sparkling wine bargains in Europe.

Jansz Premium Cuvée, Tasmania, Australia (£18.75)

Tasmania might just be the most exciting sparkling wine region outside Europe. The cool climate allows Chardonnay and Pinot Noir to retain freshness while developing complexity. The still wines are great, the sparkling is even better. This is elegant, balanced and dangerously easy to drink. If you poured it blind, very few people would guess Australia.

Whites

Getariako Txakolina, Basque Country, Spain (£18.95)

If the beach had a flavour, it would probably taste something like Txakoli. Produced on the rugged Atlantic coastline around San Sebastián, this is one of Europe’s great summer wines nobody has heard of. Light in alcohol, bursting to the rim with lemons, green apple and sea spray freshness, with the gentle natural spritz that makes you immediately want another sip. The region deserves far more attention than it gets in the UK. While everyone else fights over Albariño, Txakoli remains one of Spain’s great secrets.

Force Celeste Chenin Blanc, Swartland, South Africa (£19.20)

South Africa continues to produce some of the best-value white wine on earth whilst again, known for its red wines. Swartland in particular has become a hotspot for old vines and thoughtful winemaking, and this bottle captures everything that makes South African Chenin Blanc so compelling.I love the pet nat from this producer but the pear, honey and citrus peel on this bottle is a delight. This is not a simple refreshing white. It has weight, personality and enough complexity to hold your attention all evening.

La Perrière Pouilly Fumé, Loire Valley, France (£19)

Sauvignon Blanc’s well-known stalwart in the Loire. Pouilly-Fumé often gets overshadowed by Sancerre, but for me it frequently offers better value. The flinty soil that surrounds the Loire river create wines with loads of citrus, your typical Sav B gooseberry and that subtle smoky note that gives the region its name. This feels less tropical and more balanced than many New Zealand examples for those who are allergic to Sauvignon on a menu. This is a bottle that reminds you why the Loire remains one of the world’s great wine regions.

Domaine Séguinot-Bordet Petit Chablis, Burgundy, France (£18.75)

One of my favourite wine buying tricks: buy the region next to the famous region. Petit Chablis rarely receives the attention of Premier Cru Chablis, but the same limestone soils still deliver the freshness and minerality that make Chardonnay so compelling. You’re not missing your lemon, oyster shell, green apple and acidity when buying this wine. Living proof that Burgundy doesn’t always need to cost a fortune.

Rosé

Sierra Cantabria Rosado, Rioja, Spain (£18)

Rosé doesn’t have to be pale. Rioja Rosado has long been one of Spain’s most underrated styles, producing wines with proper character and food friendliness. Expect lots of strawberries, redcurrants and a bit of spice to finish, so a little more texture than your average Provence rosé. It’s a great choice with or without food.

JM Roger Sancerre Rosé, Loire Valley, France (£17)

Sancerre is famous for Sauvignon Blanc but I think the rosé deserves more attention. Made primarily from Pinot Noir, Sancerre rosé sits in a sweet spot between the freshness of Provence and the structure of something like Tavel or Bandol. You get bright strawberry, raspberry and redcurrant fruit, but with a mineral backbone that keeps everything super refreshing. What makes this bottle such good value is that you’re effectively getting one of France’s most prestigious appellations for under £20. That rarely happens.

Reds

De Martino Legado Carménère, Maipo Valley, Chile (£13.75)

One of my dad’s go to weekend wines this. He found it 2 years ago and it’s been on the shelf since. Chile has spent years convincing the world that Carménère mattered and can be an alternative to their South American neighbours in Mendoza. This bottle explains why. It’s super deep with lots of black fruit, black pepper, herbs and a lovely minty freshness that keeps everything balanced. Less heavy than Cabernet Sauvignon, more interesting than Merlot. One of the smartest red wine buys available at this price point - well done Mike.

Grande Classique Crozes-Hermitage, Northern Rhône, France (£17.50)

The Rhône remains one of the best places in the world to find value. Crozes-Hermitage gives you everything people love about Syrah (Shiraz for those south of the Equator): black fruit, cracked pepper, olive tapenade and loads of complexity and finish. Northern Rhône wines have become increasingly sought after, but Crozes still offers a relatively affordable way into the region, and doesn’t deserve the rap it gets in my opinion. It’s a proper wine lover’s region.

Baron de Ley Gran Reserva Rioja, Rioja Alta, Spain (£16)

This feels almost unfair. Gran Reserva Rioja requires years of ageing before release, so at this price point, god knows how the profit margins look but the value is incredible. It would often be a red flag for me seeing a Gran Reserva at this price point, but you get all the red fruit, vanilla, tobacco, cedar and spice you want. One of the greatest value categories in the entire wine world. Again, not a region seen in the best light at the moment in the wine world, I don’t see why…

Rustenberg John X Merriman, Stellenbosch, South Africa (£19)

Possibly the best-value Bordeaux blend in the Southern Hemisphere out of one of my favourite wineries. Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Cabernet Franc come together to produce something that feels like a Bordeaux, tastes like a Bordeaux. Blackcurrant, graphite and spice shoot out the glass immediately. If you want to understand why Stellenbosch deserves to be taken seriously, start here and if you’re in the region, make sure it’s on your visit list.

The best wines under £20 are rarely the loudest. They tend to come from regions slightly outside the spotlight. Places where quality has risen faster than reputation.

Swartland rather than Napa. Tavel rather than Provence. Crozes-Hermitage rather than Côte-Rôtie. Petit Chablis rather than Puligny-Montrachet.

And that is exactly where the fun of wine lies. The secret to buying good wine has never been spending more, just spending better and thankfully, there are still plenty of regions willing to help us do exactly that.

Enjoy,

Harry

One week you’re tasting mature Bordeaux from some of the world’s most famous châteaux’s in one of the oldest wine shops in the world. The next you’re drinking amber wine from Georgia on a boat or discovering Chardonnay from a corner of Canada most people have never heard of.

June felt like one of those months.

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Bordeaux Vertical Tasting

There are tastings, and then there are tastings. Mum and I were lucky enough to attend Berry Brothers & Rudd on Tuesday this week for a Bordeaux tasting going from 2025 fresh out the barrel to 2006 with heaps of age.

This was one of those evenings that reminds you why Bordeaux remains the benchmark for fine wine. Multiple vintages, both banks represented, and some of the region’s most famous appellations all lined up side by side.

One of the fascinating things about Bordeaux is that despite the Left and Right Bank sitting only a short drive apart, they often feel like completely different worlds.

The Left Bank leans on cabernet sauvignon, producing wines built on structure, tannin and longevity. The Right Bank, with its merlot dominance, often delivers more fruit and earlier accessibility.

Two wines stole the show.

2009 Château Grand-Puy-Lacoste, Pauillac

Everything that makes Pauillac great.

Blackcurrant, cedar, graphite and cigar box, with the silkiest of tannins. Mature enough to be fascinating, youthful enough to have years ahead of it.

2015 Château Batailley, Pauillac

The surprise of the evening.

Powerful but beautifully balanced, with cassis, tobacco leaf and remarkable freshness. One of those wines that kept improving every time I returned to the glass and the price point lends itself to pretty exceptional bang for buck.

Sylvain Pataille Bourgogne Aligoté 2023

Everyone knows chardonnay is Burgundy’s white grape but far fewer know aligoté.

And nobody has done more to change that than Sylvain Pataille. For years Aligoté was treated as Burgundy’s lesser grape, often relegated to simple bistro table wines whereas Pataille has spent the better part of this decade proving it deserves far more respect.

This bottle is genuinely electric for summer. It has loads of lemon peel, red apple, stone fruit and a hint of ginger, with acidity that makes you immediately reach for another sip.

As white Burgundy prices continue to disappear into the stratosphere, aligoté remains one of the smartest buys in France.

Closson Chase Churchside, Canada, Chardonnay 2022

One of the most rewarding parts of learning about wine is discovering regions you never expected to enjoy.

Canada was firmly in that category. I found it on the menu at Aspen and Meursault in Battersea and found myself ordering out of intrigue.

The vines sit in Ontario and therefore a genuinely cool climate. The result is chardonnay that feels surprisingly familiar to anyone who loves Burgundy.

This bottle delivered a whole bunch f orchard fruit, a fair whack of malolactic notes (butter, cream) but balanced with a beautiful mineral undertone.

Canada feels like a region with a lot more to give over the next decade.

Vilafonté Series M, South Africa 2021

I spend a lot of time talking about South African chenin blanc, mostly because it’s one of the world’s greatest white wine bargains.

But every now and then a bottle comes along that reminds you how extraordinary South African reds can be too and Vilafonté sits at the very top of that pyramid.

Series M is Merlot-led, supported by Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc and Malbec, so effectively a right bank Bordeaux blend that hits with dark fruits, cocoa, spice and cedar.

I felt very lucky to drink this. A proper world-class red wine.

Château Manissy Tavel

If Provence is rosé’s glamorous sibling, Tavel is the older one who knows what they’re talking about. Think Gstaad Guy vs Colton (niche reference I do apologise).

Tavel is unique. It produces only rosé, but unlike many pale Provençale styles, these wines are built with structure, depth and slight tannin.

Château Manissy is one of my favourite examples.

Strawberry, raspberry, herbs, enough structure to stand up to proper food and for me, tavel remains one of the most underrated rosé appellations in the world.

Pedemontis Jaiet Langhe Favorita 2024

Piedmont is one of the world’s great wine regions. If you mention it and most people immediately think of Barolo, Barbaresco and Nebbiolo, so red wine. For me, the whites deserve more attention.

Favorita is an indigenous Piedmontese variety that produces wines full of citrus, white flowers and piercing freshness. This bottle was exactly what summer drinking should be - light enough to refresh, interesting enough to remember.

A reminder that Italy’s greatest discoveries often sit in the shadows of its famous names.

Dugladze Kisi Qvevri Amber Wine 2023

This may have been my favourite wine experience of the month.

Not necessarily because it was the best wine, because Georgia has the best story.

Georgia is widely considered one of the birthplaces of wine, with winemaking traditions stretching back thousands of years. Many producers still ferment and age wine in qvevri, large clay vessels buried underground. The process creates wines with texture and complexity unlike almost anything else.

This Kisi amber wine tasted of dried apricot, oranges, tea leaves and lots of spice, all wrapped up in a style that somehow feels both ancient and modern.

Drinking Georgian amber wine, brought back from Georgia by my best mate, from a boat on the water felt appropriately Georgian.

This month probably sums up exactly why I love wine. A legendary Bordeaux vertical, A forgotten Burgundian grape brought back to life, Canadian chardonnay and amber wine from the birthplace of winemaking itself.

The more wine you drink, the more intriguing it gets.

Harry

You went in for meal deal for 2, dishwasher tablets and maybe a bag of chocolate covered peanuts, and suddenly you are staring at 140 bottles of wine trying to figure out exactly what reserva, vieilles vignes or appellation protégée means.

And yet, quietly, M&S has become one of the better places in the UK to buy accessible wine. Not flashy wine with wax tops and funky bottle design, but genuinely good bottles for people who don’t fancy coming face to face with a snobby wine shop, and actually just want a nice time drinking.

The trick with supermarket wine is not necessarily finding the most expensive bottle. It is understanding the signals on the bottle.

Look for:

• Specific regions over vague countries

• Named producers or collaborations

• Lesser known appellations near famous regions

• Grapes that suit your taste rather than labels you recognise (look at my grape index from two weeks ago)

And crucially, buy wine for the moment you are actually drinking it in. Not every bottle needs to be Barolo with a 1kg steak in a candlelit room. Sometimes you just need something refreshing and delicious on a Tuesday for dinner with an old friend.

So here is my guide to M&S wine, built around different moments in the week.

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‘I’ve Had a Long Day’ White

M&S Ken Forrester Stellenbosch Chenin Blanc - £13

This is exactly what supermarket wine should be.

Reliable. Generous. Interesting enough to keep you engaged, but not so serious that it becomes homework.

Ken Forrester is one of the key names behind the rise of South African Chenin Blanc, particularly from Stellenbosch. Chenin is wildly underrated in the UK because people still associate it with cheap Loire supermarket bottles from years ago, but good Chenin is brilliant.

This has ripe orchard fruit, peach, a little honeyed texture, but enough acidity to stop it becoming heavy. The key with South African Chenin is that balance between richness and freshness. You get more texture than Sauvignon Blanc, but more freshness than heavily oaked Chardonnay.

This is cooking dinner while holding a glass wine.

The Easy Drinking Midweek Red

M&S Maison Riveraine Fleurie - £13

Fleurie is one of the ten Cru Beaujolais villages, and probably the easiest entry point into proper Gamay. Note: select the area, not standard Beaujolais.

This is the kind of bottle that reminds you red wine does not need to be massively heavy. Light body. Red cherry. Raspberry. Slight floral lift and a bit of candy in the background. Super low tannin and you can even chill it slightly if you want.

The reason Fleurie works so well for everyday drinking is that it has enough character to feel interesting without exhausting you after one glass.

And importantly, it works with your standard midweek dinner.

Roast chicken. Pasta. Slightly questionable Thursday fridge dinners.

This is a very modern style of drinking red wine.

‘Parents Are Coming Over’ White

M&S Collection Pouilly-Fumé Élégance - £18

This is where M&S quietly becomes quite impressive.

Pouilly-Fumé sits in the Loire Valley and is made from Sauvignon Blanc, but stylistically it is very different from the hyper tropical New Zealand style most people know and don’t like.

This is far more balanced and restrained. Citrus and flint are dominant much like a Chablis, but with a slight smoke and more mineral.

The “Fumé” historically is a nod to the sauvignon grape, known as smoky white, because of that gunflint note you sometimes get from the area’s soil and the bloom (residue) often found on the grapes.

And this is exactly the kind of bottle that works when people are round because everyone understands Sauvignon Blanc, but this feels more elevated i.e. you can prove you know what you are doing without spending £40, which is really the sweet spot of entertaining.

The Weekend Light Red

M&S Clocktower Marlborough Southern Valleys Pinot Noir - £15

New Zealand Pinot Noir is still underrated, which frankly is quite useful financially.

Marlborough is obviously known for Sauvignon Blanc, but the cooler Southern Valleys produce some really good Pinot that is super soft, still refined and elegant like Burgundy, and very easy to drink.

Loads of red cherry, cranberry, and a bit of complexity and earthiness without being overly oaked.

This is ‘Friday evening, the weather is nice but I’m having red meat so I need a red’ wine.

It is also a very good example of why Pinot Noir has become so popular recently. Not as heavy than Cabernet, less tannin, easier to drink socially.

‘I Want Something Slightly Bigger’ Red

M&S Classics Chianti Riserva - £10

Chianti Riserva is one of the best supermarket categories - no question.

Sangiovese naturally has high acidity, lots of sour cherry fruit and savoury dried herbs notes, which means even affordable versions can feel complex.

I will say this is where wine starts becoming less fruit driven and slightly more food driven. You get the herbs that pair with your meat and two veg, a bit of leather, firmer structure to cut through any fat on the plate.

The riserva designation means extra ageing, which helps soften things and adds more depth. Very good with any Italian dish: tomato based pasta, grilled meat, osso buco.

‘Special Occasion Slightly Showy’ White

M&S Rully Appellation d’Origine Protégée - £25

Now we are into White Burgundy.

Rully sits in the Côte Chalonnaise, just south of the Côte d’Or, the mecca of chardonnay, and this selection comes with one of the best tricks in wine - buy the region next to the famous one.

Because everyone knows Puligny-Montrachet and Meursault, prices there are absurd. But places like Rully still offer proper white burgundy character for significantly less money.

This is Chardonnay with all the bells and whistles.Lemon curd, toast, butter, hazelnut. But still enough acidity to feel elegant rather than heavy.

This is the bottle you bring out to impress.

Supermarket wine gets looked down on far too often and I am definitely a culprit.

Yes, there is loads of bad supermarket wine, but there is also loads of bad restaurant wine at three times the price.

The trick is understanding where value actually sits:

• Lesser known regions

• Strong producers doing collabs with supermarkets (Ken Forrester)

• Good quality in the right areas

And honestly, M&S does this better than most. You definitely do not need to spend £60 to enjoy wine, you just need to know where to look.

Prost,
Harry

The Gartner Magic Quadrant is one of them and yet, here we are. Working in tech where companies live and die by it, I couldn’t resist.

For those unfamiliar, the Gartner Magic Quadrant is essentially a way of ranking companies based on two things, ability to execute and completeness of vision.

It made me realise it is actually a brilliant way to think about wine regions too.

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So naturally, I made one.

Behold:

Now this is obviously not scientific. If you disagree with a placement, I think you’re wrong and let’s have a debate.

The vertical axis is execution. What I deem as consistency in produce each year and global reputation. Basically the ability to deliver quality year after year.

The horizontal axis is vision. This is mostly around innovation and momentum. New grapes in different places, new techniques and influence on where wine is heading culturally and stylistically. What you would find on a new wine bar list in the big cities globally.

And when you start plotting wine regions against those two things, it gets surprisingly interesting.

Leaders

These are the regions that do both. High execution and vision. The benchmark regions that still shape the global wine world.

Burgundy sits furthest top right because frankly, despite the chaos of pricing since COVID and tiny production, everyone is still chasing Burgundy. Pinot Noir and Chardonnay everywhere are benchmarked against it. It is the blueprint that everyone attempts to replicate.

Bordeaux remains an execution machine. The classification system, global recognition, investment, consistency. It still matters despite what people think.

For me, whilst Barolo lacks the broad cultural dominance of Burgundy or Bordeaux, in terms of quality trajectory and identity, it absolutely belongs.

And then there is Champagne, which I deliberately placed slightly higher on execution than vision simply because it’s one type of wine. Champagne is one of the most successful luxury products on earth and it has managed to retain prestige while remaining globally recognisable for centuries which is kind of absurd really.

Napa was the difficult one. Execution wise, it is absolutely elite. But vision wise, I actually think it scores even higher than people give it credit for. Whether people love the style or not, Napa has influenced modern premium winemaking globally, especially since the Judgement in Paris, from branding to hospitality to precision viticulture. It changed the perception of New World wine forever.

Tuscany sits bang in the middle. Chianti Classico and Brunello are phenomenal, and super Tuscans are taking over wine cellars of the rich and famous. Need I say more? Deserves its place.

Mosel is perhaps the most controversial inclusion in leaders, but for Riesling specifically, nothing really comes close.

Challengers

These are regions that execute brilliantly but perhaps feel slightly more established than revolutionary right now.

Stellenbosch is fascinating because the quality level is very high relative to global perception - something I often badger on about. Cabernet Sauvignon, Bordeaux blends, Chenin Blanc, Syrah, it does all of them brilliantly. I suspect over the next decade it may move but let’s see.

Rioja is similar. Incredible consistency, incredible value, iconic producers, but the region’s identity is still heavily tied to tradition.

Barossa Valley knows exactly what it is. Big Shiraz, confidence, consistency. It executes at a very high level but vision wise, there is little for me to look at across the region to push it higher.

And Marlborough, while no longer particularly visionary, fundamentally changed global Sauvignon Blanc forever. That level of impact matters and that’s why it’s there.

Visionaries

This is where things get exciting.These are the regions shaping where wine feels like it is heading.

Jura had to be here. Tiny production, massive influence. Half the wine bars in London would collapse without Savagnin and Poulsard. My trip there last summer cemented it and the top bottles are going for £100+ (Labet etc.)

Priorat remains one of the most ambitious regions in Spain. Powerful wines historically, but increasingly moving toward elegance and freshness. I love these wines and try the Priorat Gang of Five if you can get hands on them - they’re outstanding.

Oregon and Washington are interesting because they feel like the intellectual future of American wine. Less power for the sake of power, more site expression, more restraint. More and more people are saying its the new Burgundy - remains to be seen!

Martinborough sits slightly behind them in execution but still firmly visionary. New Zealand beyond Sauvignon Blanc is becoming increasingly compelling with likes of Pinot Noir coming to a head.

Naoussa, Etna and Patagonia all sit here because they feel like regions people are only just beginning to properly understand. Xinomavro from Greece, volcanic Nerello Mascalese and Etna Rosso from Sicily, cool climate Patagonia Pinot Noir and Chardonnay. They all feel very new and exciting.

Niche Players

And finally, the specialists.

Not worse regions. Just regions that sit slightly outside the mainstream.

Txakoli is one of my favourite examples. Low alcohol, saline, slightly spritzy Basque white wine that is made for sunshine and seafood.

Friuli is home to some of the best skin contact and orange wines in the world, but remains relatively niche globally. This will definitely change.

Tokaj probably deserves slightly more execution than people give it, purely because great Tokaji can be extraordinary, especially Azsu.

Hunter Valley Semillon is one of the wine world’s strangest and best kept secrets so it made it onto the list.

And then there is Vinho Verde, which does exactly what it says on the tin. Fresh, light, affordable, refreshing wine that works almost universally in the sun.

The interesting thing about wine is that unlike technology, being niche is not necessarily a weakness.

Some of the most exciting wines in the world come from tiny regions making weird little wines most people have never heard of.

And some globally dominant regions can occasionally feel slightly safe.

That is what makes wine fun and forever moving. There is always another quadrant to explore.

Big love,
Harry

Old world wines are restrained, elegant and complex. New world wines are supposedly bigger, fruitier and louder. Europe brings sophistication, newer regions bring power.

But the more wine I drink, the less convinced I become that those old distinctions still fully hold up, especially if you know where to look. The lines are blurring.

So this tasting is not really designed to pick a winner. It is more an exploration of how differently, and sometimes surprisingly similarly, producers around the world approach the same grapes and styles. And more importantly, why that makes wine so endlessly interesting.

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Sparkling: Germany vs a Modern Classic

I wanted to avoid the obvious starting point.

A French champagne against an English sparkling wine would have been easy. Predictable, even. A gimmick. So instead, the opening flight goes somewhere slightly more interesting: Germany versus South Africa.

The Peter-Jakob Kühn Blanc de Blancs represents a style of sparkling wine that still flies under the radar. German sparkling has historically sat in Champagne’s shadow, but producers like Kühn are showing just how serious it can be. Mineral, no residual sugar that can sometimes be found in sekt, and driven by acidity rather than overt richness.

Alongside it sits Graham Beck Blanc de Blanc, which has quietly become one of the stalwarts of premium new world sparkling wine. It is polished and tastes like a bakery without losing freshness.

What I love about this comparison is that both wines are rooted in precision, they simply show it differently.

Riesling: The Most Misunderstood Great Grape

If there is one mission of the evening, it is probably this flight.

Riesling still suffers from one of the worst reputations in wine. Too many people associate it with cheap sweetness or supermarket bottles from decades ago, when in reality it is one of the world’s great fine wine grapes.

The Joh. Jos. Prüm Kabinett from the Mosel is there to show Riesling at its most delicate and profound: low alcohol, high acidity, textured and incredible intensity and finish.

Then comes Frankland Estate from Western Australia, which demonstrates something entirely different. Bone dry and razor-sharp with lime and minerality but perfect for the sun.

Same grape. Entirely different interpretation.

I suspect this will end up being the most divisive and perhaps the most eye-opening comparison of the evening.

Chardonnay: Climate, Oak and Control

Chardonnay is fascinating because it is such a transparent grape for both climate and winemaking decisions. You can tell instantly.

The Olivier Merlin Pouilly-Fuissé leans into what great white Burgundy does so well: texture, depth and savoury complexity built through subtle oak and cooler-climate balance.

The Penfolds Bin 311 shows how far Australian chardonnay has evolved. Less caricatured in its richness, it’s way more control. There is still loads of fruit, but complexity comes from the freshness and depth that now sit at the centre of the wine.

This flight is less about which is better and more about how different climates and philosophies shape the same grape.

It is also a reminder that many new world regions are now chasing elegance just as much as power.

Rosé: A Reset before the Reds

At some point in any tasting, the palate needs resetting.

The Loire rosé from Rémi Sedes Samplemousse (great play on words) acts as that pause in the evening, but with a slight natural-wine twist.

Fresh, energetic and slightly untamed, it sits somewhere between serious wine and pure summer drinking. The sort of bottle that encourages people to simply enjoy what is in the glass.

Which, ultimately, is still the point of all of this.

The Reds: Complexity vs Immediate Pleasure

The final flights are probably where the old stereotypes become most visible.

The European wines from Tuscany (Le Volte d’Ornellaia) and Rioja (La Montesa Crianza) are built around savouriness, structure and complexity. They unfold more slowly so will be decanted prior to serving. The fruit is there, but it shares the stage with herbs, spice, tobacco, earth and acidity.

The new world reds from Chile (De Martino Carmenere) and Argentina (Catena Zapata Malbec) are more immediate in their appeal. Darker fruit, more overt richness, softer textures and greater depth of concentration to finish the night.

That is not a criticism — far from it.

There is something inspiring about the confidence of new world reds. They often announce themselves immediately and unapologetically and I find myself further drawn to them.

I guess the overarching point is I find it fascinating how both styles increasingly borrow from each other.

New world producers are pursuing freshness and restraint more than ever before. Old world wines are often riper and more polished than their historical reputation suggests.

The gap between them is narrowing.

And that, really, is the reason for this tasting in the first place.

Love,

Harry

What I am about to unveil, completely changes the game for your average wine drinker’s ordering paralysis.

Get ready.

You ready?

You sure?

Voilà:

Isn’t it beautiful? Me and my AI models had a really brilliant time arguing over where to put some of these, so I hope you agree with me and not the rest of internet data ever.

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Print it out, put it in your bag, in your wallet, maybe even laminate it for those extra saucy evenings, so that it is always with you when you need it. I may be prouder of this than I was of most of my submitted coursework at uni.

Let’s start with what you know you like, then work outward.

For example: if you like Sauvignon Blanc, you probably like high acidity and citrus. So instead of just ordering Sauvignon Blanc every time, you can explore:

• Albariño

• Riesling

• Soave (Garganega)

• Furmint

All different grapes, all sitting in a similar part of the graph. All delicious.

Same with red wine.

If you like Merlot, you are probably in that middle zone, softer tannins, red to dark fruit. From there you can move into:

• Tempranillo

• Sangiovese

• Xinomavro

This graph is by no means complete and for that I apologise, it doesn’t cater for ageing, or much for how a wine is made, and how styles differ per region, but it’s meant as a decent guide for the every day wine drinker to take into any situation and quickly find something new and delicious.

Short one this week but very, very educational…

So to flesh it out, here’s a bottle for you to try:

The 2019 Chateau Musar from Lebanon was released to the market two weeks ago from one of the oldest wine producing countries in the world, and the story is incredible.

It comes from the Bekaa Valley - one of the major fighting hotspots between Israel and Hezbollah, where vines are being burnt, chateaus are being bombed and lives are being lost. However, the producers in the area are still working on the vines that remain and are producing delicious wine. It’s an amazing story and this wine remains one of my favourites and I think because of the existing situation, I hold in even higher regard. It is a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Cinsault and Carignan, and it sits somewhere beautifully in the middle right of the graph. Red fruit, a bit of spice, a bit of earth, structured but not overwhelming. Get it ordered:

Big love,

Harry

And the main driver is yours truly. Gen-Z.

Approximately 21.5% of our age bracket does not consume alcohol, and 39% drink only occasionally - quite a stark difference from our parents generation. A lot of it is being driven by the changing in social norms and a general interest in a healthier lifestyle.

As always, humans are a product of our surroundings. If friends aren’t drinking, you tend not to order a beer yourself. I’ve seen it with friends of mine, they don’t want the slight headache in the morning, the anxiety after a night out on the sauce, waiting until 9pm on Sunday night to build the courage up to look at your Monzo bank balance. So a lime soda or a virgin margarita is the choice of drink alongside a morning run and pastry instead. I fully understand it - as I’ve said on this Substack before, I like to prioritise clean eating, exercise, nature and a balanced (some would argue this point) approach to fun.

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On the theme of money, there’s also the underlying cost that surrounds alcohol. An £8 mocktail or £4 soft drink versus a £9 beer in some parts of London or £12 glass of wine really stacks up over time, especially if you’re having multiple across Thursday/Friday/Saturday. The current cost landscape of living in London and the sheer inability to save means alcohol is an easy way to cut back. So that in part is what we are all doing.

With one big exception.

Wine consumption is up.

The big dog clings onto its crown.

And we’re all following the advice I have been giving from the start. Prioritise quality over quantity and enjoy the process.

Gen Z drinkers are focusing on quality, environmental impact, and experience, preferring orange, chilled red, and natural wines and the vibe that goes with a wine bar. Although we drink less frequently than older generations, on-trade spending in bars/restaurants is significant and focused.

For a long time, pub drinking was the default. You met at the pub, you stayed at the pub, and the night revolved around how long you could last at the pub. Now it feels more like alcohol and especially wine sits alongside everything else rather than defining it. You go for a run, you get breakfast, you walk, you sit in the park, and maybe later you have a glass of wine. It is part of the day, not the whole day.

And then there is the experience piece.

Wine bars have quietly replaced late night pubs for a lot of people. Softer lighting, better music, smaller pours, more considered lists. You are not there to get through rounds, you are there to try something new and share a bottle. It feels more curated experience than a default setting. A bit sexier if you will. So that is what more people are after than the wooden benches of the Red Lion or the White Horse.

Some of the places in London getting this exactly right:

Abuelo, Marylebone
Small plates, great energy, and a wine list that fits the mood perfectly. You can go for brunch, coffee, or a bottle in the evening and it all works. This is where I discovered the Force Celeste Pet Nat.

Dan’s, Dalston
Feels like the blueprint for this shift. Natural wine, relaxed vibe, slightly chaotic decor in the best way. The kind of place where you go for one and stay longer than planned.

Cadet
One of the best by the glass lists in London. Always something interesting open, and very easy to settle in for a couple of hours.

40 Maltby Street
A classic. Simple food, brilliant wine list, and a proper sense of place. Feels like London wine culture distilled.

Goodbye Horses
More on the natural side, very current, very Dalston. A bit louder, a bit more energy, a load of mullets and moustaches but still all about the wine.

And a bottle for your Saturday perusal:

La Navine, Les Vignes de Babass

This is a Chenin Blanc from the Loire, made by Sébastien Dervieux, better known as Babass. It sits firmly in the natural wine world, but in a way that feels expressive rather than chaotic. It has the texture and energy that make Chenin so luscious, with enough weight to feel like a treat, but enough freshness to keep it very drinkable in the sun.

What I like about it in the context of this piece is that it feels like exactly the kind of bottle people are moving toward now. Not something polished to within an inch of its life, not something you neck without noticing, but a wine with personality, texture and a sense of place.

It is the kind of bottle you open because you actually want to taste it. And that, really, is the whole point.

Harry

You need something sparkling for when people arrive. Rosé for the table in the sun. A few crisp whites, a few more textured whites. A light red, a serious red, something classic, and something a bit different for the person who always wants to try something new.

If you can do that, you have a good wine list.

So this is the list I would write right now. About 20 bottles, with a strong by the glass selection, a mix of classic producers and newer names, and wines I have written about over the past few months.

Sparkling

Sparkling sets the tone. Something serious, something great value, and something a bit more fun.

Force Celeste Rosé Pét Nat – £24 (By the glass)
Light, fresh, slightly cloudy, very drinkable. A brilliant way to start and always a crowd pleaser.

Domaine Champalou, Vouvray Pétillant, Loire – £26 (By the glass)
Traditional method, proper sparkling wine but still great value - as are most other crémants.

Champagne Pierre Gimonnet Cuis 1er Cru Brut – £39
Serious grower Champagne that flies under the radar, Chardonnay led, citrus forward, some chalk but very precise and refreshing.

Rosé

Rosé should not just be one Provence option. Rosé has range and can handle food far better than people think.

Maison Galoupet, Côtes de Provence – £23 (By the glass)
Elegant, pale, but with texture. This is your summer option.

Château Manissy, Tavel – £26
Darker, spicier, built for food. Order lamb, pair it with this.

Domaine Tempier, Bandol Rosé – £35
Serious rosé, Mourvèdre, structure, proper food rosé. The love for this wine has no bounds.

Sylvain Pataille, Marsannay Rosé – £75
Top end rosé from Burgundy, structured and long, one of the most serious rosés you can buy, if not the best in the world.

Whites

This is where a wine list really shows whether someone has thought about it properly. Different grapes, different countries, different styles. Crisp, textural, aromatic, and something a bit more adventurous.

If someone says they only drink Sauvignon Blanc or only drink Chardonnay, a good wine list should gently prove to them that there is much more out there.

Joh. Jos. Prüm, Wehlener Sonnenuhr Riesling Kabinett, Mosel – £39 (By the glass)
Light riesling, high acid, a touch of sweetness, one of the great producers.

Château Carbonnieux Blanc, White Bordeaux Blend – £45
Sauvignon Blanc and Sémillon, citrus with sémillon adding the needed texture.

Pieropan La Rocca Soave Classico, Garganega – £39 (By the glass)
Almond, citrus, saline, brilliant with food and so fresh. If there’s a whole fish on the menu, order this.

Errazuriz Aconcagua Costa Chardonnay, Chile – £15 (By the glass)
Cool climate, citrus, fresh, great value. Chilean chardonnay is slept on.

La Sourfrandière Les Longeays, Pouilly-Vinzelles, Burgundy – £36
White Burgundy, more texture, a bit of oak, more weight but still fresh.

Jordan Nine Yards Chardonnay, Stellenbosch – £37
Richer, more structured, new world fruit with old world winemaking influence.

Textural Whites

Stéphane Tissot Savagnin, Jura – £56
Textured, a bit wild and nutty in true Jura style, for the more adventurous drinker.

Tyrrell’s Vat 1 Semillon, Hunter Valley – £55
One of the great white wines of Australia, ages beautifully.

Sancerre, Domaine Vacheron, Sauvignon Blanc – £34 (By the glass)
Mineral, citrus, classic Loire Sauvignon.

Mullineux Old Vines Chenin Blanc, South Africa – £34
One of the best expressions of Chenin Blanc outside the Loire. We order this every time it’s on the menu without fail.

Reds

This is where you want a mix of lighter wines, classic regions, and a few more serious bottles.

Waterford Estate Cabernet Sauvignon, Stellenbosch – £35
Structured, Bordeaux inspired Cabernet.

Clos du Val Cabernet Sauvignon, Napa Valley – £57
Classic Napa Cabernet, darker fruit, more power but comes with the price tag.

Domaine Drouhin Pinot Noir, Burgundy – £60
Silky, savoury Pinot Noir.

Erath Willamette Valley Pinot Noir, Oregon – £24 (By the glass)
One of the best value Pinot Noir regions in the world.

E. Guigal Crozes-Hermitage, Northern Rhône, Syrah – £26
Pepper, dark fruit, classic Rhône Syrah from one of the best producers.

Catena Alta, Catena Zapata Malbec, Mendoza – £28 (By the glass)
Rich, smooth, very reliable with the beautiful dark fruits you get from Malbec.

Fontodi Chianti Classico, Sangiovese – £37
Sour cherry, herbs, proper food wine from an organic producer.

G.D. Vajra Barolo Albe, Nebbiolo – £48
Rose petal, red fruits and structure, classic Barolo.

Gratallops Álvaro Palacios, Priorat – £48
Powerful Spanish red, Garnacha led.

La Rioja Alta Viña Aldanza, Rioja Alta Tempranillo – £36 (By the glass)
Classic Rioja, red fruit, vanilla, very drinkable.

Château Batailley, Pauillac, Bordeaux Blend – £55 (By the glass via Coravin)
For the person who wants proper Bordeaux - older vintage so using Coravin for by the glass.

Kanonkop Estate Blend, Stellenbosch – £31
South African Bordeaux blend, incredible value.

By the Glass

If I were running this list, the by the glass would be:

• Force Celeste Rosé Pét Nat

• Vouvray Pétillant

• Maison Galoupet Rosé

• Riesling Kabinett, Joh. Jos. Prüm

• Soave Classico La Rocca, Pieropan

• Errazuriz Chardonnay

• Erath Oregon Pinot Noir

• Catena Zapata Malbec

• Rioja Alta Viña Aldanza

• Château Batailley via Coravin

That gives sparkling, rosé, aromatic white, classic white, light red, big red, and something serious.

Final Thought

A good wine list should have something for the person who always drinks Sauvignon Blanc, and something for the person who wants Savagnin from Jura. Something for the person who wants Rioja, and something for the person who wants Barolo.

Some bottles at £15, some at £75, most somewhere in the middle.

The best wine lists are not built to impress people. They are built so that people want another glass. If that happens, you have built the list properly.

Harry

The exam itself is tough, a lot of theory, a lot of tasting, and a lot of evenings spent trying to remember which villages in the Rhône allow which grapes (trying to remember Saint Joseph, Vacqueyras, Gigondas, Lirac etc was a nightmare). But what you realise quite quickly is that the qualification is not really about passing an exam. It just changes how you look at a wine list, how you buy wine, and how you drink wine.

I was asked this question last night whilst eating out with friends at the Parakeet in Kentish Town (go if you haven’t already). What would be the number one thing to take away and tell others about?

So, here are five things I would pass on to the average drinker.

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1. If you see something unusual on a wine list, order it!

If you see a wine on a list from somewhere you have never heard of, there is a very good chance the sommelier has put it there for a reason and done their research.

Most wine lists are built around margins, reliable regions, and recognisable names. So when you see something slightly obscure, it is often there because someone has gone out of their way to find something interesting.

One of the best wines I had while studying was a Poulsard from Jura. Jura sits just east of Burgundy, and Poulsard is a very pale, very light red grape that most people have never heard of. The wine looks almost like a dark rosé, but it has this incredible freshness, gentle spice, and a sort of alpine brightness to it.

What is interesting is that Jura sits geographically very close to Burgundy, and you often get similar levels of craftsmanship and attention in the vineyard, but without the Burgundy price tag. So you can sometimes get a beautifully made Jura red for the price of a fairly average Burgundy Pinot Noir.

If you see Jura on a wine list, especially Poulsard or Trousseau, order it. Someone has done the work for you.

2. Everyone’s taste is different

One of the biggest things WSET teaches you is how different wines are structurally. Not just flavour, but acidity, tannin, alcohol, body, sweetness.

Some people love high acid wines like Riesling or Chablis. Some people love rich, oaky Chardonnay. Some people want big, bold, tannic reds. Others want light, fresh, low tannin wines they can chill slightly.

There is no right answer, but once you work out what you like structurally, not just by grape name, buying wine becomes much easier.

For example, if you like Chardonnay, it is worth exploring beyond Burgundy. I had some brilliant Chardonnays from Australia and Chile while studying, places like Margaret River or Aconcagua Costa, where you still get that freshness and structure but often at a much better price point. Example is this incredible bottle from Te Mata in Hawke’s Bay New Zealand.

Understanding that Chardonnay is not just Burgundy, and Sauvignon Blanc is not just Marlborough, opens up a huge amount of wine.

3. Give Red Wine Time, It Changes Everything

This is probably the most practical thing I learned.

We often open a red wine and pour it immediately, especially something like Cabernet Sauvignon, and then judge it straight away. But many red wines, especially those with higher tannin, need air otherwise you get that fizzy hit on your jaw from the alcohol.

Leave a Cabernet Sauvignon for 30 minutes and it can taste like a completely different wine. The tannins soften, the fruit opens up, the aromas become easier to decipher.

It sounds simple, but it makes a huge difference. If you are opening a bottle of Cabernet, Syrah, Malbec, or Nebbiolo, open it before you start cooking, not when you sit down to drink it. If possible into a decanter, the increased air exposure helps.

4. Understanding How Wine Is Made Makes You Appreciate It More

Before studying wine properly, it is easy to think of wine as just another drink. But when you start learning about how vines are grown, how vineyards are farmed, how harvest decisions are made, and how different winemaking techniques change the final wine, you start to see it very differently.

You start to understand why a wine costs £12 or £40. You start to understand why some regions are famous. And you start to want to visit these places.

One of the wines that really brought this home for me was Xinomavro from Naoussa in Greece. Xinomavro is a grape with high tannin and high acidity, often compared to Nebbiolo. In Naoussa, you get these wines that have structure, with tastes like dried tomato, red fruit, herbs, and this savoury edge, but they can also be fantastic slightly chilled in the summer as an alternative to heavier reds. Remind you of a certain cuisine? 🇬🇷🇬🇷🇬🇷🇬🇷

It is a perfect example of a place and a grape working together, and once you understand that, wine becomes much more interesting than just red or white.

5. Wine Is Nothing Without the People You Drink It With

This might be the most important one.

You can learn all the regions, all the grapes, all the winemaking techniques, but the bottles you remember are almost never the ones you drank on your own.

They are the bottles you had with friends, with family, on holiday, at long lunches, or slightly chaotic dinners where someone always ends up opening something better than originally planned.

One of the bottles that really stuck with me over the last year was a Chianti Classico I drank in the Dolomites after a long day walking in the mountains. Nothing overly fancy, just Sangiovese, high acidity, sour cherry, dried herbs, a bit of tannin, exactly what you want with food when you are tired and very hungry.

And that is probably the biggest thing studying wine teaches you.

Wine is geography, farming, chemistry, history, and economics all in one bottle. But at the end of the day, it is also just a reason to sit down with people you like and open something good.

And that is a pretty great thing to spend time learning about.

Salute,
Harry

The answer is not just quality, it is economics, geography, and time.

Some vineyards cost millions because the land is famous and limited (Burgundy). Some vineyards cost very little because they are in newer regions where land is still affordable. That alone can add £20 to the price of a bottle before the grapes are even picked so price isn’t necessarily the main indicator of quality.

Then there is yield. Expensive wines are often made from older vines that produce fewer grapes, which means less wine, which means higher prices.

Then there is oak. Good French oak barrels can cost £800 to £1,000 each, and many top wines spend 12 to 24 months ageing in them.

Then there is time. Some wines are released within a year of harvest. Others sit in a cellar for years before they are sold, which ties up money and increases the price.

And finally, there is reputation. If a winery has spent 50 or 100 years building a name, you are paying for that as well.

So this week, five grapes, two price points each. One value bottle that massively over delivers, and one blowout bottle that shows what the grape can really do.

Same grape, different postcode, very different result.

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Chardonnay

Value: Errazuriz Chardonnay, Aconcagua Costa, Chile - £15
Blowout: Chablis 1er Cru, Pinson Frères - £40

Both are cool climate Chardonnay, but very different expressions.

Errazuriz is all citrus, green apple, and a bit of salinity. Clean, very drinkable, and amazing value for money.

Chablis 1er Cru is more about complexity and minerality than fruit. Loads of lemon, oyster shell, wet stone, and a bit of creaminess from lees ageing. It is longer, more layered, more serious.

Same grape, one is refreshing, one is an event.

Sauvignon Blanc

Value: Yealands Estate Single Vineyard Sauvignon Blanc, Marlborough - £13.50
Blowout: Sancerre Domaine Henri Bourgeois La Bourgeoise - £35 to £40

Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc is explosive and can be a bit like marmite in terms of love/hate. Passionfruit, lime, gooseberry, cut grass. Very aromatic, very immediate.

Good Sancerre is more restrained and refined. Citrus, green apple, flint, herbs. Less shouty, more mineral, more structured.

This is the classic New World versus Old World comparison in one grape.

Cabernet Sauvignon

Value: Mendoza Catena Zapata Cabernet Sauvignon - £15
Blowout: Waterford Estate Cabernet Sauvignon - £35

Mendoza Cabernet is a great insider pick as an alternative to Malbec. You get blackcurrant and plum, but often with that distinctive fresh mint or eucalyptus note you get from high altitude vineyards near the Andes. Freshness, structure, and serious value.

Waterford in Stellenbosch produces Cabernet that feels much more Bordeaux inspired. Darker fruit, graphite, cedar, proper tannin structure, and the ability to age. Less about sweetness and power, more about structure and balance.

This comparison shows two very different styles of Cabernet. One bright and lifted, one structured and serious.

Pinot Noir

Value: Erath Winery, Willamette Valley Pinot Noir Oregon - £24
Blowout: Domaine Drouhin-Laroze Dix Climats Gevrey-Chambertin - £55

Oregon Pinot is one of the best value regions in the world for Pinot Noir, so whilst 24 quid, it punches well above its weight. Red cherry, cranberry, forest floor, high acidity, fine tannins, very Burgundian in style but half the price.

Good Burgundy Pinot is where Pinot becomes something else entirely. More savoury, more complex, more layered, longer finish, more texture.

If you love Pinot Noir but not Burgundy prices, Oregon is the answer.

The Rogue One - GSM Blend

Grenache, Syrah, Mourvèdre.

Value: Boekenhoutskloof The Chocolate Block South Africa - £24
Blowout: Domaine du Vieux Télégraphe Châteauneuf du Pape - £52

South Africa has quietly become one of the best places in the world for Rhône style blends. The Chocolate Block gives you ripe Grenache fruit, Syrah spice, a bit of Mourvèdre structure, rich, generous, very drinkable. Cult bottle.

Châteauneuf du Pape is the old world benchmark. More savoury, more herbal, thyme, rosemary, more structure, and that warmth that comes from famous galets roulés stones (fact to impress the wine nerds).

Same blend, same grapes, completely different expression.

When you pay more for wine, you are usually paying for vineyard location, older vines, lower yields, oak ageing, time in cellar, and reputation.

Value wines are made to be opened. Blowout wines are made to be remembered. Both have their place.

So my thoughts:

Spend more on Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and structured Cabernet.

Find value in Sauvignon Blanc, Mendoza Cabernet, and Rhône blends from South Africa.

Price matters, but knowing where to spend matters more.

Harry