Hyperbole is such a natural accomplice to each new Bordeaux vintage that the vintage of the century cliché is now routinely trotted out at the slightest sign that the new claret might at least be drinkable. The problem with the flip side of crying wolf is that when a once in a lifetime vintage comes along, how do you sort hype from reality and recognize its quality?
Its reputation may be founded on it classic reds, but Italy is fast gaining ground for appetising dry whites is and I’m not talking pinot grigio. Halfway between the devilishly good wines of Italy’s North and those from the deep blue Mediterranean sea, Le Marche, or what we English call The Marches, is in the forefront of turning rosso into bianco. The fact that it’s in the shadow of neighbouring Tuscany and Umbria makes it all the more intriguing a destination.
Odious as comparisons may be, when two of the wine world’s giants go head to head with their major annual wine showcases on consecutive March days, it’s inevitable that both will be examined in the witness box of wine. With a catalogue of 105 pages France looked a weighty proposition, but it paled into insignificance next to Spain’s David Haye-like 206. Quantity schmantity, but French amour-propre had just been dealt a double blow by news that South Africa had pushed its supermarket wine sales into fifth place and exports had plunged by almost a fifth last year.