I’ve just got in from a motorway traffic jam and I’m astonished by the exercises my brain races through while the car idles.

Clearly a glass of something interesting was my reward and I had a bottle of English wine in the Fridge.  “Hallelujah!”, I’m sorry? “Hallelujah!  Hallelujah”, oh I see – 3 choirs…  I wasn’t expecting Handel’s Messiah when I pulled the cork and I wasn’t disappointed – I didn’t get it.  I did get a rush of cat’s piss, probably female, about 2 years old, definitely not pregnant, possibly a Russian Blue.

The flavours that emerged from this wine developed, though.  Lot’s more complexity than mere liquid feline by-product.  Citrus and white pepper, a little red chilli, pink grapefruit and sugar, and something tart – possibly fresh rhubarb?

I was wondering if I had left this wine too long before drinking.  I mean, white wines should mostly be drunk young, no?  Especially low quality white wines from strange parts of the world like England?

For the record, this is not a Sauvignon Blanc.  It’s a mix of Reichensteiner and Madeleine Angevine varieties (no, I am no wiser either).  I do know that this wine is gorgeous and it packs a whopping punch for only 10.5% alcohol.  Awesome!

I think the 2005 is probably all gone now but the Wine Society has the 2006 at only £4.95 per bottle.  If it is even close to the 2005 that is the bargain of the month.

Well the first thing to say is that they are not going to win any prizes for label design.

In the label department they could learn a lot from the Kiwis.  Not least because this wine is not dissimilar to a NZ Sauvignon Blanc.  “Not dissimilar”???  That’s such an English phrase, from a nation that is too polite and reserved to say the positive imperative without a frilly, pretty please.  And yet, the subtleties of the English language are like the nuances of the wine world.  “Not dissimilar” does not mean the same as “similar”.  Likewise Limney Horsmonden is not “similar” to a Kiwi Sauvignon, but the peachy gooseberry flavours are somewhat reminiscent, albeit with less zing than its antipodean counterpart.

At 11% and only a year old, it is a very pale wine.  Insipidly so.  It is the Kiera Knightley of fresh faced English charm in the face of brash Bette Midler new world wines.

Apparently made in East Sussex from organic grapes (whatever that means), I would rate it as highly as a New Zealand SB of about £7.50.  This is just as well really, since I bought it at the Wine Society for £7.95.

So, good value and interesting to drink, without being legendary.  But it is different.  It is charming.  It is quintessentially English, which is why it goes so darned well with fish ‘n’ chips.

This wine was made from a grape variety about as well known as most of the Man City first team.  For those not in England, Sven-Göran Eriksson has been on a buying spree across the globe bringing in players from Bulgaria, Brazil, Italy, Spain, Switzerland, and Bosnia & Herzegovina.  Names like Elano, Bianchi, Geovanni, Garrido, Fernandes, and Schonburger.  Oh no, hang on, that last one was the name of the grape used to make this Three Choirs Stone Brook 2005.

At 11.5% it’s an easy drinking wine and pretty good value at £5.95 per bottle.  Not wanting to rub American noses in financial affairs, but currently that’s more than $12 – ouch!

Displaying lemon zest and apricots in a quite rich style, it reminded me of Torrontés.  Not just a quaffing wine though – it also went well with my favourite home made pasta dish – fresh linguine with mushrooms, bacon, chilli, garlic and wilted parsley.  OK don’t be smart, I know the picture shows spaghetti but I couldn’t source fresh linguine on that day!

I’d recommend the wine to go with spicy dishes or just as a pair of teeth.

The Schonburger (aka Rosa Muskatt) grape is apparently a cross between Pinot Noir and Muscat.  Right now I am watching a cross from Elano onto the head of Bianchi who scoooooooooooooooores!  And unlike Maradona he didn’t even need to use his hand

If parents can’t be trusted to educate their kids to the point that they understand that coffee “may be hot”, or that smooth floors “may be slippery when wet” then the world has lost something.  In today’s litigious society (it starts in America, quickly migrates to Ireland, and lands in the UK shortly afterwards) the first thought when we have an accident is “who can I sue?  How much money can I make?”  So the inevitable result is a world full of nannying warning signs that guide us, cajole us, restrict us, instruct us but rarely inform us.

The warning on my bottle of Bacchus 2006, however, was clear and stark, “Made in England”.

Bacchus is a grape variety I have not encountered before.  It seems to be especially suited to English terroir and used widely in English wines.  I ordered a couple of examples recently, this “Heart of England” Bacchus being from the Wine Society at £7.95 per bottle.

I am ashamed to say that I have tried very few wines from my own shores.  My first problem was to choose a glass.  I plumped for the Sauvignon one and I think that suited the grassy, herby character of the wine.  Bacchus seemed to be somewhere between Sauvignon and Chenin Blanc to me.  There was also a slight botrytis overtone in the nose – quite pleasant in such a dry wine.

From the name on the bottle though, I did expect something a little more Bacchanalian than 11% alcohol!

I liked this wine because it was different, in the same way that an Argentine Torrontés is so different from most white wines.  Despite this it was just a little sharp and one-dimensional to be worth £8 a bottle.  I’d price it at a poorly octopus (six quid) and then I’d buy more.