Puglia

This blog is going to be a little different, for it's more of a travel blog as I've just got back from Puglia on holiday (that may not seem much different from a wine trip, but it meant that I didn't visit any wineries). Puglia's a large area in south-east Italy that extends down to the country's heel, its major cities Bari and Lecce. It's a poor region that hasn't received many visitors from outside the country until relatively recently. For better or for worse, the arrival of cheap flights into Bari and Brindisi, another port, is changing that. 

Its poverty is often evident, but this is an area with a rich, distinctive history and identity. In places it's rural and beautiful, elsewhere industrial and ugly, and sometimes a strange mixture of the two. It's a very friendly region and feels more authentically "Italian" than the more touristy areas to the north with everyone getting on doing what they've always done oblivious to outside influences - living rooms turned into shops and bars, long afternoon siestas, midnight promenades, driving that bears a passing nod to the rules. The food is rightly known as some of the best in Italy, with newly-caught seafood, and the pasta dishes are fresh, imaginative, and consistently high quality. The wine, like the region itself, has been held back by rural poverty, but there's now plenty of expressive, confident wine that still draws on the area's traditions. 

places

 

Matera

The first night we stayed in Matera, on the edge of the Basilicata/Puglia border. Matera is a spectacular hilltop town, with buildings dug into the rocks and perched on the cliff sides. Like many of the towns we visited, it's difficult to navigate by car with its winding side streets and intricate one-way system. Around the town are caves buried in the hills where people used to live before investment brought the town into the twentieth century. There's a vibrant, modern feel to the place now - they're applying for European Capital of Culture 2019 - and its stunning architecture and location make it a great place to visit before more tourists discover it. 

San Matteo church, Lecce

The following two nights were in Lecce, a major city further to the south just inland from the Adriatic Sea, as historic and spectacular as Matera but much bigger. Its medieval buildings have all been recently cleaned, gleaming white in the constant sun. There are over a hundred churches, all sternly imposing but grandiosely decorated, rising from the city's many side streets. There's a vibrant nightlife, with everyone streaming on to the streets after their evening meals until early in the morning. This is a great city that has lots to offer the tourist looking for something different - restaurants and bars, history, architecture, friendliness, and great food. 

Ostuni

We spent the next night in the countryside near Ostuni, called "The White City" for its white buildings which can be seen from its hilltop location for many miles. The place we stayed at was a converted farmhouse; some of its rooms are trulli, small traditional houses with pointed roofs. These were built to be easily dismantled to avoid the feudal lord's tax inspector, but they're now characteristic architecture of the Puglian rural landscape. They're most concentrated in nearby Alberobello, which even on a rainy Monday in May was a horrific tourist trap. Much better to drive around and see the trulli by the side of the road. 

trulli

Grotte di Castellana

North of Ostuni are some wonderful underground caves which have to be visited if you are in the area. These were discovered around the Second World War by speleologist (or "cave scientist" as our guide endearingly called him) Franco Annelli. They feature several kilometres of caves, some very low, others huge caverns, full of stalactites and stalagmites, a breathtaking journey through a million years of geological development. 

Italians go down to Puglia for the sea, but we spent only our final night by the Adriatic, in the fishing town of Trani, just north of Bari. A little rough at the edges, it still had a lively harbour with some good restaurants and bars. Visiting at the end of the May, it seemed the summer season was only slowly beginning to get underway.

Trani

Puglia reminded me a lot of Andalucía; a rich Mediterranean history, spectacular hilltop villages, some great cities, a down to earth friendliness, and a lonely yet appealing and surprisingly green landscape. Its food and drink are worth visiting for alone. 

food

Caffè Cavour, Ostuni

Visiting a region before the summer season gets underway, and one that isn't particularly touristy anyway, means that you have to take risks such as entering restaurants that are completely empty. Ostuni did have a small square with a few busy cafés and pizzerias, where passing by I overheard English voices, but we opted for this restaurant just a hundred metres away where we were the only customers. The back room, hidden well away from the road, was a cool stone cavern; the service was friendly and genuine; the menu seafood orientated, but with meat and vegetarian dishes, and all of an extraordinarily high quality, making complex pasta from simple ingredients. On a trip of consistently great meals, this restaurant ranks at the top.

Beltrani 29, Trani

Another cavernous restaurant that we took a punt on despite being completely empty. Once again, the food was exceptional, the only downside being the limited wine list - the waitress explained that they had cut back on the wine to keep it simple, but they had cut back too far.    

Il Porto, Taranto

On our way from Matera to Lecce, we made the mistake of stopping off at Taranto, the home of the Tarantella dance. This is a large industrial port, with a small island containing its old town surrounded by steel works and docks. Taranto is Puglia at its most authentic and intimidating: narrow, shaded streets with tiny doorways lurking on to shadowy living rooms selling bottles of water and beer and unwanted trinkets. It's also a town where any rules about parking should just be ignored: park where you can and toot anyone you feel like.

We wandered around the old town for an hour for a place of interest before finally finding this restaurant, its tables hidden deep behind the curtained door: one thing about a region as hot as Puglia is that its best restaurants are all indoors. We were given no choice but to order the same pasta dish; we thought this was because, once again, we were the only people in the restaurant, but the place was full of locals when we left. Again, the pasta was so simple, but so, so good. 

Doppiozero, Lecce 

On a street corner with outside seating, this was our favourite place to hang out in Lecce. A good selection of meats and cheeses to snack on, it also had an interesting and well-priced range of wines to drink: this is where we had the Verdeca and the first Negroamaro mentioned below. In the heat of a city, there's nothing like sitting in the shade of old buildings drinking wine watching the world go by. 

wine

 

photographic example of a wine geek

Internationally, Puglia's most famous grape is Primitivo as it's genetically the same as Zinfandel, California's great varietal. Besides sharing the same DNA, the two grapes are grown in a similarly hot climate, allowing the grape to ripen fully, building up the fruit profile, the sugars, and alcohol. Primitivo, though, is made in something of a different style - the fruits are slightly less prominent and the use of oak common to produce a more European, reserved wine. This, of course, is a generalisation - there are plenty of examples otherwise. 

Primitivo wasn't the most common wine I found on my trip, maybe because Lecce is in the heart of the Salento area of Puglia, home of Negroamaro. Its name literally means "bitter black," giving a good indication of the wines made from the grape. It's sometimes blended with a small amount of Malvasia Nero, and we also saw it blended with Primitivo and, in one instance, Cabernet Sauvignon. 

The highlight of any trip for me is discovering wines or grapes I'd never heard of, in this instance Susumaniello and Nero di Troia. Susumaniello produces deeply-coloured wines, and is more often used as part of blends rather than its own. Nero di Troia, also used in blends, was the stand-out discovery of the holiday for me: a grape high in tannin with unusually strong herbal flavours of coriander, as well as rich red fruits. Two of the wines I tried from this grape were absolutely superb, and if you want a flavour of Puglia this is the grape I'd look out for.

There are plenty of white wines to be found in Puglia, much needed for such a warm climate. Like many of the local grapes, plantings of Verdeca are in decline but I really enjoyed the round, almost creamy wine we had on a warm, sunny afternoon. I'm suspicious of non-indigenous varieties in historic areas such as Puglia, but I saw Chardonnay on lots of lists - and I did like the one example I tried. 

For all the wines we tried on this trip, it has to be remembered that wine in Italy is very regional - it was rare to see a wine from outside Puglia - and that most locals stick to house wines or other drinks such as beer or spirits. There weren't many dedicated wine shops, but the restaurants and a number of bars had good lists of interesting local wines. 

wines drunk/tasted

 

Primitivo goes surprisingly well with cold pizza

 

Dragone Pietrapenta Primitivo, Matera DOP 2011 (€12 - approximate retail price)

This is actually from Basilicata rather than Puglia, but was a very good example of an Italian Primitivo. Aged for twelve months in oak, the wine wasn't as fruity as a Zinfandel, though as it opened up the upfront oakiness gave way to juicy black fruits. Very drinkable, but pleasingly complex. 

Altanasio Primitivo di Manduria DOP 2010 (€22) 

It would be hard to distinguish this wine tasting it blind alongside a Zinfandel. Coming in at a very Californian 15.5%, the immediate impressions were all about black fruits, but a spicy oakiness came through. A very good wine, though just too high in alcohol for me. 

Tenute Rubino Susumaniello, Salento IGP 2011 (€30)

This was quite an intense wine, rich and powerful, with black fruits, oak, vanilla, and pepper. There was a chocolate character to it too, reminding me of Syrah - more powerful than a French Syrah, though, but more intensely oaky and less fruity than a New World equivalent. 

Feudi di San Marzano Negroamaro, Salento IGP 2010 (€22)

Another powerful, oaky wine backed up by rich black fruit flavours, but with developed dried fruits and softening floral notes. 

Agricole Vallone Vereto Negroamaro, Salice Salentino DOP 2010 (€13)

Same grape as the previous wine, but completely different result. Much lighter in colour and flavour, with a lower alcohol to match (13%), it was more about the red fruits (cherries) than the black fruits. There was a nice liquorice finish to it, giving the wine some complexity. Reminiscent of a good Chianti or a Cru Beaujolais, this was the bargain of the trip - just €13 in a Lecce wine bar. 

Conti Zecca Nero Rosso Negroamaro/Cabernet Sauvignon, Salento IGP 2004 (€45 - restaurant price)

Probably the wine of the trip. Getting on for ten years old, but still plenty of black fruits, acidity, and tannins. Mature character of game, earth, leather, mushroom, and tobacco dominant at first, before the aromas of blackberries, capsicum, and liquorice came through. 

Torrevento Vigna Pedale Nero di Troia, Castel del Monte DOP 2009 (€10)

Nero di Troia was the discovery of the holiday, and this involving, complex wine led us to try other examples. Richly ripe red cherries and plums, and with oak and spices, the 13% ABV belying its herbal, earthy depth of flavours. 

Alberto Longo Le Cruste Nero di Troia, Puglia IGP 2010 (€13)

A much richer and more powerful wine; red cherries again to the fore, but with chocolate and spices, finished off with ripe strawberries. A wine that packs a punch but extremely balanced. 

Rivera Violante Nero del Troia, Castel del Monte DOP 2011 (€12)

A disappointing wine compared to the previous two, especially as it lacked the substance to stand up to pasta and meat which the other two excelled at. This was because there had been no oak ageing, which left the wine's body lacking. Nevertheless, there were immediate red fruit flavours of strawberries and cherries, with a light touch of pepper and mint, and a very floral nose - they'd named the wine Violante for a reason. 

Menhir Verdeca, Puglia IGP 2013 (€8)

A great wine for a hot summer's afternoon, but one with real substance too - not a simple wine for  a warm climate, but a full-bodied wine resonant of a warm climate. Stone and tropical fruits - peach, apricots, banana, and lychee - with a round and full spicy finish. 

Cantele Chardonnay Salento IGP 2013 (€9)

Over our meal in Ostuni, I had a glass of house white wine. So impressed by its stone and tropical fruits, zingy capsicum, and fresh acidity with a good body, I asked what the wine was. I was surprised that it was Chardonnay, and surprised that Puglia could produce such a fresh, acidic white wine, at a good price too. 

from Piemonte to Puglia: a cheeky Barbaresco to finish the trip

Japanese wine

Over the last couple of years, Marks & Spencer have been expanding their wine range to include lesser known countries and regions. In 2012, the supermarket introduced wines from Meditteranean countries which have a long wine-making tradition but have never entered the mainstream, such as Croatia, Slovenia, Greece, Lebanon, and Israel. A while back I tasted the Golden Valley Grasevina, a crisp, refreshing white from Croatia retailing at just £8.99. The wine wasn't that exciting, but Marks & Spencer have done well to find a good quality Croatian wine for that price - Croatian wines that I've previously tasted have arguably been too expensive for what they are.

In February, the range was expanded even further to include a wine from Japan, the Sol Lucet Koshu 2013. This really is an adventurous choice, as I imagine the only "wine" consumers associate with Japan is sake. It also retails for £12.99, above that £10 threshold customers are reluctant to spend. It's refreshing to see the supermaket allow their buyer, Emma Dawson MW, the opportunity to use her expertise to introduce customers to unfamiliar wines.

from wineandvinesearch.com

Japan actually has a long history of grape growing, dating back to the eighth century. However, the first reference to wine consumption is in the sixteenth century, when the Portuguese Jesuit St Francis Xavier brought wine to the country. Wine continued to be imported until all Christian practices, including drinking wine, were banned in the seventeenth century. Modern winemaking began in 1875 in Yamanashi, near Tokyo, where half of Japan's 175 wineries are now based. Conditions in Japan make growing vines difficult: Yamanashi has a monsoonal climate, making humidity and excess water a problem. The areas within Yamanashi, particularly Katsunuma, that have most favourable conditions are at a high elevation, where there is better drainage, a refreshing breeze, wider daily temperature variation, and better ripening conditions.

The most planted grape in Japan is Koshu, which is mostly grown in Katsunuma. It's a grape only found in Japan, though no one knows how it came to be grown there (legend has it that it was introduced from China by Buddhist monks, but there's no evidence for that). Its importance comes in large part from its resistance to rot in the humid conditions, but also because it's used as a table grape - table grapes have always been more commercially significant than wine. The grape produces wine that is colourless, light, and delicate; good brandy has also been made by a Yamanashi winery, Kizan.

As for the M&S wine itself, it was certainly different from other whites I've tasted and hard to categorise. It was light and refreshing, with sharp citrus fruits giving the wine an edge and finish that made the wine stand out. The supermarket's site describes it as having "pure and fresh flavours of Japanese citrus fruits such as kabosu and yuzu"; I've never heard of these fruits so it's no surprise I found the wine difficult to pin down. The obvious food accompaniment is sushi, but I think its freshness and balanced fruit flavours make it a great summer wine, on its own or with any salad or seafood.

Blind Tasting at Australia House

One of the many daunting aspects of studying for the Diploma is tasting wines blind. All you have in front of you is a glass with some wine in it, and after that it's up to you. No clues about taste, no prejudices about quality, and lots of fear you just might get it completely wrong. Sniffing the wine, swishing it in your mouth, writing tentative tasting notes are a test of your ability as a taster, proof that you can distinguish a good wine from a bad one, as well as one style from another.

At the same time, it's an exciting challenge. The wine speaks for itself; you have to dig deep into your knowledge; and if you get something completely wrong, it's a learning experience for the next time. And if you get something right, there's a feeling of smug satisfaction you shouldn't cherish for too long.

so what's the point of blind tasting and how do you go about it?

The point of blind tasting is quite simple: you taste a wine without knowing what it is in order to form an objective opinion. It's almost like a conversation where the wine is speaking to you in code, which you use your knowledge and experience to interpret. It's difficult - as much knowledge and experience as you have, that code can still be indecipherable - but with a certain logic, educated guesswork, and luck you can come to the right conclusions. Perhaps more importantly, you can discover exciting wines you might have otherwise ignored.

Blind tastings, for instance at the launch of a region's new vintage, can involve hundreds of wines or, at smaller tasting events, are arranged in flights - that is, three or more wines that have something in common to taste side by side - with the purpose of distinguishing wines by quality, style, origin, flavour, and/or price. It requires knowledge, of course - for instance, what Cabernet Sauvignon generally tastes like compared to Syrah/Shiraz - and the ability to reach conclusions based on that knowledge. Look for flavour characteristics and think of grapes they're associated with; the intensity of the aromas may also point you to a grape or a region; analyse the acidity on tasting and, for a red wine, the tannins; and from all this draw conclusions about the style and quality of the wine.

But it also requires a great deal of guesswork and luck; after all, there are so many wines out there doing their own thing and not adhering to textbook descriptions. That's why assessing the flavour profile and quality of the wine is just as, if not more important than, guessing the grape the wine's made from: origin is important, quality is essential.

When you discover the identity of the wine, will your opinion change or be confirmed? Will the price point alter your view of the wine commercially? Will you turn away in disgust and inwardly curse, I can't believe I liked that wine?

Australia House

I travelled down yesterday to the Unreal City for a blind tasting arranged by Wine Australia. This is part of a series of trade blind tastings they've arranged in order to promote Australian wine, all held at the Australian Embassy. A great opportunity to taste a range of styles of Australian wines, there were twenty-one wines arranged in four different flights. Excitingly, there were quiz questions too. Tasting these wines one after the other, without knowing what they were but constantly trying to work out what they were, was intense and tough. The difficulty is at the beginning of the flights conclusions are formed that the subsequent wines dispute. Still, when I got a list of the wines afterwards, I didn't do quite as badly in the quiz questions as I had worried.

flight one

Four white wines: three of them from the same grape, the other from a different varietal. Which was the odd one out and what was the grape? Wines with a palate-cleansing high acidity and a searingly dry finish pointed to Riesling, but the quiz question didn't help because with each wine I was trying too hard to spot the one that stood out as different. In the end, I plumped for the wine which had fruitier flavours and was less dry, but I had no idea which other varietal it could be. As a safe bet that's always wrong, I went for Chardonnay. It turned out to be Pinot Gris; I don't think I've ever had an Australian Pinot Gris before, so this was a new experience. I didn't actually like it that much though (one of the indications to me that it wasn't Riesling).

trick wine: The Lane Block 2 Pinot Gris 2012, Adelaide Hills (£15)

best wine: Gatt Eden Valley Riesling 2010 (£20)

 

flight two

Six white wines, all the same grape variety: which of the wines is from Margaret River? In France, it's possible to differentiate between regions because the grapes used are different: despite the similarity in name, the differences between a Pouilly-Fuissé (made from Chardonnay and powerfully oaked) and Pouilly-Fumé (Sauvignon Blanc) should be clear in a blind tasting. The differences between the wine regions of Australia are less clear, because the same grapes are grown across the country and styles vary according to producer as much as anything else. The wines in this flight were all from Chardonnay and I went for Wine 7 as being from Margaret River just because it was fuller bodied and oakier than the other wines. No idea if it was educated guesswork or sheer luck, but I was right.

Margaret River wine: Voyager Estate Chardonnay 2008 (£22.40)

best wine: Lethbridge Allegra Chardonnay 2008, Geelong (£46)

flight three

Six red wines, all the same grape variety: what's the grape variety and which is the most expensive wine? The menthol aromas of the first wine suggested that it was Cabernet Sauvignon, aromas which were constant throughout this flight, to the point that I felt the wines were just too minty and eucalyptus flavoured, lacking the black fruits and oaky tannins that makes wine from Cabernet Sauvignon so appealing. The best wine by far was the final one of the flight and which I selected as the most expensive of the six. As with the Chardonnays, my favourite was the most costly: proof that I have acquired an expensive palate, but also that price and quality do sometimes correlate.

most expensive wine: Balnaves The Tally Cabernet Sauvignon 2008, Coonawarra (£82)

best wine: as above

flight four

Another five reds: which one is from Barossa? Part of the education in the guesswork is knowing which grapes Australia mostly uses: for whites, there's Semillon, Chardonnay, and Riesling, for reds Cabernet Sauvignon and Shiraz. Of those five, it was obvious that there could only be one of them missing in these four flights and that it was going to be white. The simple difference between Cabernet Sauvignon and Shiraz, I have found in Diploma tastings, is the menthol and cassis aromas of the former and the chocolate aromas of the latter. The Shirazes impressed much more than the Cabernets, as there were some really complex, developed wines. Which one was from Barossa? Didn't have a clue, so went for the one I rated the best. That was from Adelaide Hills. My second favourite was from Barossa, at £9.99 amazingly good value.
 

Barossa wine: Thorn Clarke Shiraz 2010 (£9.99)

best wine: The Lane Reunion Shiraz 2010, Adelaide Hills (£28.50)

There was another quiz question: which of the wines on show is not from Australia and where's it from? My methodology here was to find the wine that wasn't screwcap, but every single bottle was (this is why a blind tasting should be served in neutral bottles). I went for one of the Cabernets as being from Hawke's Bay in New Zealand because it had gripping, unripe tannins (and most wine from New Zealand is screwcap and I thought wouldn't it be wonderful for the Ozzies to advertise a Kiwi wine in their own embassy), but it turned out to be a Chardonnay from South Africa. It would have been much more fun to involve a French wine, for that direct New World/Old World comparison; plus, it's so difficult to distinguish between New World wines as it's down more to the producer than the region or country.

my guess at non-Australian wine: Chapel Hill Cabernet Sauvignon 2010, McLaren Vale (£20)

actual non-Australian wine: Bouchard Finlayson Crocodile's Lair 2012 (£13)*

This was a great, if intense, educational experience. The wines were mainly of very good quality; the tasting showed just how good Australian white wines are; and I do feel my tasting qualities have improved since I started my Diploma. One caveat though: Wine Australia have been hosting these tastings once a month since March through till June, every one in the same venue in the centre of London. The rest of Britain would like to learn about Australian wine too!

•yes, at an Australian tasting they picked a non-Australian wine called Crocodile's Lair

Sémillon

In the last few weeks, I've found a new appreciation for Sémillon, the white grape most known for the role it plays in the dry and sweet wines of Bordeaux. Due to that role, it's considered an important grape but it's not seen that often or a grape that trips off customers' tongues. This must in part be because white Bordeaux, where it's blended with Sauvignon Blanc, isn't that popular a style, but also because it just isn't planted in that many places: in Europe, it's virtually limited to south-west France and in the New World only Australia has made a speciality of it. It's these Australian versions which have led me back to taste white Bordeaux - from New World back to Old.

where it's grown

Its name comes from a local pronunciation of St-Emilion, the Bordeaux village renowned for its Merlot-based reds. It's the fifth most-planted white grape in France, concentrated on south-west France in Bordeaux, Bergerac, and Monbazillac. In Bordeaux, it's the dominant variety in the sweet white wines of Sauternes and Barsac and also in the oaky dry whites of Graves; it's almost always blended with Sauvignon Blanc, which is becoming more prominent in blends. When it's planted in California, it's to produce similar dry white wines. In Australia, it's the second most-planted white variety, producing distinctive dry wines, particularly in Hunter Valley near Sydney. The wines receive no oak, are low in alcohol and high in acidity, and, despite that lack of oak, develop toasty complexity as they age. Margaret River in Western Australia is another important area, where it's again blended with Sauvignon Blanc. Plantings of the grape have declined in South Africa, but the reputation of its wines is increasing; again, the influence is Bordeaux, with the use of oak and blending with Sauvignon.

Sémillon grapes beginning to rot; taken from Oz Clarke and Margaret Rand's Grapes and Wine

what it tastes like

With its grassy, herbaceous aromas, Sémillon is not a dissimilar grape to Sauvignon Blanc (and the two are closely related), hence the tendency to blend the two together. It does have different characteristics, though; the acidity isn't as refreshingly high as Sauvignon, and the wine is fatter and fuller bodied, as well as waxy and oily. The grape's thin skins also make it suspectible to noble rot, and its fatty characteristics add to the body of a rich, sweet wine. From the oaky dry wines of Graves, the unoaked, ageworthy wines of Hunter Valley, on its own or blended with Sauvignon Blanc, back to the intensely sweet wines of Sauternes, this is one versatile grape. Come on winemakers, get planting!

tasting

Tyrell's Belford 2009 (Hunter Valley, 100% Sémillon, Wine Society, £21). A single-vineyard Sémillon from one of Hunter Valley's most famous producers, this is an exceptional wine that still has lots of development ahead of it. Classic Hunter Valley in its high acidity and low alcohol (11%), as well as developing complexity; there are still lemon and lime notes from the wine's youthfulness, but a waxy oiliness coming through, and interesting vegetal notes - I got creamy potato on the palate.

Brokenwood Semillon 2012 and 2007 ILR Reserve (Hunter Valley, 100% Sémillon, 2012 currently available at hangingditch, £20). Unfortunately, I didn't get to taste these wines at the same time, as it would have been fascinating to directly compare the two. The 2012 had sharply fresh, grassy, herbaceous aromas, while the 2007, from a single vineyard, had developed mature flavours variously described by fellow Diploma students as wet wool, shortbread, orange peel, lemon cake, and blossom. This was a serious, intense wine, quite different from the youthful exuberance of the 2012, and one that will continue to age for another 15 years. Both these wines have low alcohol - the 2007 11.5%, the 2012 10.5%.

Cullen Mangan Vineyard 2011 (Margaret River, 58% Sauvignon Blanc, 42% Sémillon, hangingditch, £22.50). Cullen is a fully biodynamic winery from Margaret River, an area of Western Australia famous for its similarities to Bordeaux and where Sémillon works best in the northern part. I've tasted the 2011 vintage (the blend of Sauvignon Blanc and Sémillon is different each year) on two separate occassions in the last couple of months. The first was at the end of a Sauvignon Blanc centred tasting at hangingditch, where the style of this oaked blend was just too difficult for the Sauvignon lovers - I loved that oaky complexity in contrast to the too similar primary aromas of Sauvignon after Sauvignon. The second tasting was during the Diploma Australian session, where both tutor and students thought it wasn't complex enough for the price. The collective tasting notes, and the conclusion that it has another ten years, suggest otherwise: chamomile, thyme, grass, white chocolate, asparagus, ripe green and citrus fruits, as well as being waxy and oily, with weight on the palate from the light use of oak. Both a guest at the tasting and a student on the Diploma also suggested smoked cheese, a description the tutor found highly amusing, but it's one I fully agree with, especially after having tasted other Sémillon wines.

Cuvée des Conti: Tour des Gendres 2012 (Bergerac, 70% Sémillon, Carrington's, £12.49). Young, grassy, and green on the nose, showing just how similar Sémillon is to Sauvignon - it would be difficult to distinguish the two in a blind tasting. The palate differs though: a dry yet creamy finish, with a spicy, yeasty texture from eight months on its lees, and a much fuller body. The acidity isn't as piercingly high as Sauvignon either; this isn't a palate cleanser for a sunny afternoon, more of a food wine for a rich, creamy chicken or oily seafood dish.

Moulin des Dames 2006 (Bergerac, 70% Sauvignon Blanc/30% Sémillon, Carrington's, £25). This is a complex, mature, and quite beautiful wine with aged, oxidised notes, almost like a traditional white Rioja, with honey and beeswax. 50% aged for twelve months in barriques and on its lees, the palate is creamy, oaky, and spicy. It came as a surprise to learn that the wine is 70% Sauvignon Blanc, as the Sémillon seems much more influential - evidence that Sauvignon Blanc is a grape that can still surprise.

Château Rahoul Blanc 2010 (Graves, 75% Sémillon, Wine Society, £16). A very nutty (marzipan), toasty, and cheesy nose, with dairy and farmyard notes; the palate shares blue cheese and marzipan flavours, but with a big oaky, spicy finish. A full-bodied white which would be a great pairing with crumbly Lancashire cheese, as well as a bready fish dish.

Boekenhoutskloof Semillon 2010 (Franschhoek, 92% Sémillon, Wine Society, £18). From vines planted in 1902, 1906, and 1942, this is a serious wine comparable in complexity and quality to the above Bordeaux. A waxy, oily, cheesy, smoky, toasty nose, with a slight yet pleasant stink of rotting fruits. There's an intense mouth feel - very cheesy, smoky, slightly rotten, nice acidity, fatty, and full-bodied with creamy spices and potatoes. Great on its own, but this would match with any rich, creamy dish.

Clos du Val Signature Series 2011 (Napa Valley, 72% Sémillon; 2010 available at hangingditch, £25). I wrote about this in my California blog - another great example of a New World wine taking Bordeaux as its inspiration but doing something quite different. Far less farmyardy and oaky than the Graves equivalent (it was aged in neutral oak), with fresher, grassier aromas, but depth and complexity of flavour from the ageing.

Château Doisy-Daëne 2006 (Barsac, 95% Sémillon, Wine Society, £26). Barsac is an appellation next to Sauternes in Bordeaux, producing sweet wines from the same grapes - it can be much more affordable than its more famous neighbour. The wine has a rich golden colour, and intensely sweet aromas of orange peel, marmalade, and dried apricots. The palate is honeyed with light oaky spices. Some sweet wines work on their own, drunk at any time, but this is definitely best as a dessert wine: with apple tart for example.

Every single one of these wines that I've tasted at different times over the last month or so was of a high quality: intriguing and complex aromas, all connected by the grape, yet distinguished by the style and character of its region or the nature of the winemaking process. I'm definitely a convert to the Bordeaux-style oaky, dry whites: these are complex, full-bodied food wines that should be much more appreciated. In complete contrast, the Australian Semillons are just unique: high acidity, low alcohol, no oak, lots of ageing potential, and developing complexity that's all about the flavour profile of the grape. Together with sweet Bordeaux, these are three completely different, yet equally appealing, styles of wine.