The first question to look at is: what is wine and what role does it play in our society? Is it just another alcoholic liquid to break down social barriers and help us relax at the end of a long day, or does it have its roots in something deeper: is there some heritage that we are slowly forgetting that actually links the wine drinker to the world, the wine maker and to other like-minded lovers of wine? When we taste something that truly expresses the variety it is made from, the place where it comes from, the weather of that year and the person who made it, what effect does it have? Is it just a good or bad wine or is there something more? and equally does it deserve our attention and respect or is that an antiquated snobbish approach that no longer has any place in our modern, fast-paced society?

Of course, one of the beauties of wine is that there are different wines for different occasions, so most lighter and sparkling wines, for example, are meant to be enjoyed in a fun and light-hearted way. Although they are still deserving of respect, to give them too much gravitas would be contrived and even arrogant. Let me be clear when I talk about attention and respect - I do not mean waxing lyrical about bouquets and aromas, etc. I do not mean using the occasion of opening a bottle of wine to show off in that awful wine-snob way. What I mean is simply taking a moment to properly acknowledge the opening of a bottle of wine. How do the flavours differ from other wines from other places and how they match the food, if you are eating. This can be done with every sip or just at the beginning, whenever. The most important thing is the personal relationship with the wine you are drinking, which can be acknowledged very subtly, in the work of an instant - and what lovely work it is!

In the past wine has been drunk for many reasons. A couple of hundred years ago, being continuously half-cut was a more pleasant alternative to dying of dysentery or cholera, and in ancient times it formed part of ritualistic gatherings acknowledging and glorifying nature through its embodiment as a pantheon of gods. In fact now I think of it this is still the case - Christianity anyone? Should we dispense with the last remnant of this ritualistic aspect, which today expresses itself in cork and corkscrew, or is there still a place for a moment’s reflection on the hard work gone into making a wine, the toil in the vineyard, battling weather, pests and the unforeseen elements of nature? OK, for the most part we don’t believe in Zeus and Hera anymore and the Christian Church is probably not most people’s first choice as an establishment to enjoy a glass of wine, but perhaps nature, which is embodied by wine more than any other alcoholic liquid, deserves similar respect. Should we just throw that away with the flick of a wrist? Personally I enjoy the ritual of uncorking a bottle of wine, it forms part of the enjoyment of drinking that bottle in the same way that sharing it does. And what is sharing a bottle of wine but part of the social ritual of gathering as a group (friends or family or both) to share food and conversation and, if enough bottles are opened, dancing. Once upon a time this ritual meant more than just getting pissed and trying to hook up with someone. It had connotations of family, friendship, conversation and the sharing of ideas and hopefully it still does. For me the uncorking of a bottle pays homage to that idea, it is a moment of pause, while you try and find the bloody corkscrew (and someone that knows how to use it) that allows you to savour what is to come and to enjoy it all the more.

There is another important point to make. The fact that wine is an alcoholic drink surely demands our respect and to some degree our caution. Does the ease of a screwcap achieve this, or are we better served by something more meaningful and substantial as a stopper? Wine is not beer, it is more alcoholic and the standard unit of wine (75cl) holds substantially more than that of beer (33cl). Cracking open a beer is easy, but with each one you crack you are reminded (hopefully) of the amount you are drinking. If people are encouraged to crack open a bottle of wine with such ease, surely it follows that the thought of polishing that bottle off is just as easy - caution being thrown to the wind as it were. You will bring up the fact that spirits are closed with a screwcap, and I say that spirits inherently, with their power, should warn against over consumption. The very taste shouts “drink me carefully and sparsely” and if you don’t hear this message you should be worried. Wine falls between the gap - it is powerful but alluring and seductive. When you get drunk drinking wine it creeps up on you, almost without your noticing. How many times have you heard some one say I thought I was fine and then I stood up . . . . . ! So it demands our respect for that reason alone, and I ask again: does a screwcap denote respect or does it just say ‘drink me’ and to hell with the rest, like the proverbial liquid from that famous fable?

Then of course there is the argument that screw caps protect the wine and indeed the wine maker from spoilage, and while I cannot disagree with the economic aspect of this argument I can pose another question: is the trade-off worth it? Eight percent of corked bottles (or whatever the figure is), in my opinion, is a small price to pay, in return for a historical, spiritual and emotional heritage going back to the first days of wine being stored in bottle and that links us inextricably with those early wine makers. Is it a romantic notion? Unashamedly, yes. Should I apologize for those sentiments? Absolutely not. The true essence of wine is nothing if not romantic and mystical - innately connected to nature and the cycles of the planet. However much the mass producers have attempted to destroy this important aspect and present it as simply another product for consumption without thought, it persists in the hearts and passion of smaller producers who make this connection to nature the driving force behind their work. Wine is romantic and to remove that aspect and break it down to science and formulas is to strip it of the very thing that makes it so important. Whatever the scientific arguments, cork is a natural stopper for a natural product.

I’m old-fashioned, I don’t deny it, and some may scoff. But maybe sometimes it’s good to celebrate the little, seemingly insignificant things from our past; that serve to slow us down a little and make us remember the important things in life. I don’t say I’m right or wrong; I try not to believe in absolutes, one is too easily disappointed! But that’s why I like corks.

Let me finish with this thought. Let’s say you are sitting in a restaurant with friends. You order a bottle of wine and the waiter brings it to your table. He unscrews the wine and pours. Does that ‘un-screwing’ make you feel a tiny bit sad? Does the tell-tale crackle of the screw cap make you wince? Do you catch the momentary, almost imperceptible look of shame in the waiter’s eye. Do you miss the the cabaret of a waiter doing what waiters do best and the faint pop of the cork leaving the bottle? If the answer is yes to those questions then hopefully the last five minutes you’ve spent reading this piece haven’t been a complete waste of time.

The wine will be available to taste this Sunday (11th), all day. We obviously only have a limited amount so please email us at info@tengreenbottles.com if you’d like us to ‘reserve’ you a tasting sample. First come, first served. We’d like to start doing this on a regular basis if there’s interest, and those of you who email this time will be the first to hear about the next opportunity.

This is a term that we have coined for a method of farming, in the case of wine ‘viticulture’, that has been around as long as wine has but that only recently is starting to be singled out for attention. The word Organic is simply a way of describing farming techniques that do without the use of modern day chemical pesticides and fertilizers, techniques that have been around in some form or another since man stopped being a hunter gatherer and decide to settle down, build a house and raise a family.

The Organic movement is in essence a return to traditional farming methods that were practised before the advent of modern high intensity methods, and as its popularity has grown certifiying bodies have sprung up that safeguard against bad or unethical practice. The main difference between ‘Old School Organic’ producers and ‘Organic’ producers is that the former choose not to certify: they have worked without chemicals for many years, often preceeding the concept of ‘Organic’ itself, and therefore choose not to rubber stamp their beliefs with any of the various certifying bodies in existence today.

This has a number of consequences not least of which is that they do not pass on the added cost of certification (which is expensive) to the end customer. It also means that they cannot be accused of jumping on the fashion band-wagon that the Organic label has to some extent become - remember only the grapes can be called Organic, the resulting wine can have anything added to it that the wine-maker decides is necessary. It is therefore quite possible for a ruthless wine maker to grow his grapes Organically in order to gain certification, and all the kudos that goes with it, and then use practices in the winery, including the unecessary addition of high volumes of sulfites, that fly in the face of the more natural wine making ethos suggested by the use of the term Organic.

The key is, trust your wine merchant and make sure they know the wine maker personally. As the world becomes more and more corporate (or globalised) the faces behind the products we consume can often become more and more opaque. Globalisation creates companies and producers that are largely inaccessable because of their sheer scale and this applies to the world of wine as much as anything else. The beauty of buying wine from smaller producers is that you can see and know who makes your wine and ask them questions about how and why they do it. Not only that but the wines themselves, because they are made on a smaller scale, are imbued with the character of the region and the people who make them thereby giving them a distinctive character different to wines from other regions. Certifying bodies are a part of the standardisation of practices that globalisation nececitates by its very scale, and while they do a valuable job in informing the public they also, unfortunately, separate us from the people who make the things we buy, because rather than communicating with them to understand their practices and motives we simply look at the label.

Commentators seemed divided. One went as far as to suggest that most red wines subjected to this process were improved by it, though many others were more hesitant. Thinking about this gave me the idea that, really, this disagreement was all about a basic division between what people want from their wine, and about wines that are made to appeal to those different wants. I realised that, when it comes to exploring the world of wine, you could do worse than starting with a basic distinction: wines you’d be happy to put in a blender, and wines that you would not. Forget, for now, all the confusing language, endless grape varieties, nuances of region, soil type and climate. You’ve spend your hard-earned cash on a bottle, brought it home, opened it. Happy to blitz it, or not?

We are all tempted by the idea of getting to where we want to be, and getting there quickly. And it’s certainly not a new idea that our culture’s obsession with having what we want, and having it right now, risks missing out on a lot of good things on the way. Hyper-decanting is a great example of this attitude as it exists in wine. It’s all about treating wine as an end product, about the idea that this wine is better like this, and that’s it. No more questions asked, black and white.

Some wines work along these lines. They’re not bad – hopefully – just forgettable. Many wines exist without aspirations beyond simple lubrication – for conversation, laughter, relaxation… whatever. The point is that these wines are happy in the background. The tasting notes read like a horoscope; so general, they could apply to anything. Red fruit, wood, spice. Pair with meat, fish, vegetables, probably cheese as well. These are wines that aim for easy, pleasant flavours that could come from anywhere. If you can add softness to that list of pleasing characteristics by hyper-decanting, then all the better.

On the other side, however, we have wine which is all about experiencing something special, perhaps unique. Usually this something is quite delicate, quite subtle, and requires a little attention – like all the best things in life. Even the same wine can have surprising differences between vintages, between bottles, and between glasses of the same bottle – some of the best wine experiences are to be had being sips, seeing how a bottle evolves right before your eyes. Traditional decanting is designed to gently enhance this process; hyper-decanting will blow right past it.

Neither approach to wine is better than the other, but for me the second experience is more rewarding, because more personal. There’s an infinite number of experiences to be had with wine beyond merely soft = good; and most are likely to be obliterated by a few pulses of the blender.

Juicy currant, berry and cherry aromas with spicy hints. Big, powerful palate with concentrated fruit and firm, powdery tannins. Balanced, cool and long.”

Find our notes, and get your hands on some of our limited stock here.

I will begin by saying I am not a wine expert and nor do I have any wine-based qualifications and, you may think, what is she doing writing here? Well, I would class myself first and foremost as a food-lover and cook, who likes to match good food with interesting wines - the two must work together. I am passionate about the provenance of my food and my wine, for me I look at wine with a little knowledge, but always from a food perspective and that is why I want to raise the issue of ‘battery wine’.

When out and about food shopping in Brighton’s fab local shops or supermarkets, I like to have a nosey at what people are buying. I see baskets/trolleys being filled with free range or organic meats (rightly so, as I am an avid Compassion in World Farming fan), organic veg, organic juices and then a finally a bottle of some awful plonk as an afterthought. This always makes me feel a little sad that it is possible to go to that effort for food but not for wine. Personally I don’t feel it matters what level of wine knowledge you have, what is most important is that you enjoy it. Most people would say they thoroughly enjoyed their purchases regardless, but my point is just to consider all the angles of your purchase, try and experiment - sometimes it’ll work and sometimes it won’t but enjoy the challenge. I’d say, as with your local butcher or fishmonger, chat to your local wine merchant. If they are worth their salt, they should know their wines inside out and, with a bit of luck, the winemakers too - they should always be able to tell you what to expect, how best to enjoy the wine, and how it was made - and if not, try another one.

Years of celebrity chefs campaigning for food and animal rights has made us sit up and think about why and what we are putting in our bodies. Alas, food’s greatest partner - wine - does not get this level of coverage so it is not so much on our busy radars. One issue is the severe lack of ingredients listed on our bottles of wine. The FSA is (apparently) demanding change in the EU regulations that would see the 1.5 billion bottles we consume having to display what’s inside.

Examples of the ingredients that could appear in mass-produced ‘battery wine’, vary from oak chips added to create the impression that they have been fermented in a traditional barrel - I wonder why so many people hate ‘oaky Chardonnay’?, excessive amounts of sugar in a vague attempt to balance and/or boost the alcohol content of the wine, hydrochloric acid, excessive fertilisers to ensure every grape can be harvested, many large producers use tartaric and ascorbic acid, many top-name Champagnes have had traces of fungicides found inside them, and the list goes on. Don’t get me wrong, it’s like reading any ingredients label, some additives should potentially be in the wine - for example, sulphites - a little can really help preserve a wine but a lot can cause problems for people sensitive to it. I feel it is wrong for us not to know what is in our wine, and wrong that the producers of the wines are using these things in the first place, when plenty of winemakers can manage just fine and have done since winemaking began. This isn’t something off the radar of wine professionals: Jancis Robinson MW has been quoted as saying, ‘Sadly it may be that we will see even more of these techniques of confecting wine, adding the wood chips, even (perish the thought) adding flavouring’.

Another key problem is pricing, as I believe you should spend what you can afford. As with everything else in life, wine is no different from any other product - you get exactly what you pay for. And if a supermarket’s offer looks too good to be true, then it probably is. A lot has been said in the press lately about the true cost of wine since tax went up at the start of the year - a £5 bottle of wine comprises £2.52 of tax and duty, on average of £1 on packaging, and then there is shipping and storage, another 50-70 pence perhaps. Which leaves around 98-78 pence worth of wine.  Exponentially, once you are over the £5 mark you can only being to get better and better quality wine and hopefully less and less chemicals and other unnamable things added, so the winemaker can make some sort of living/margin.

So why don’t we do something about it? We can, as consumers we have the right to say no to ‘battery wines’ we can vote with our feet and our wallets/purses. We can say no to vineyards that strip the land of nutrients and use harmful pesticides that get into the water tables and our bodies. We can say no to wine that is pumped full of unnecessary chemicals, and if you thought forget food miles were an issue, ‘wine miles’ can often be far more excessive, but are often off people’s agenda when purchasing their locally grown food alongside a bottle of wine from the other side of the world.

Related articles:
‘Almost’ organic

Cheap wine: The bargains that cost us dear

Why many top-selling wines are not much more than alcopops dressed up with flavourings and fancy labels

There was a slight spanner thrown in the works when we discovered that Giorgio didn’t speak English, but Sam was on stand by and translated perfectly into English. Not only did was get to enjoy some of Giorgio’s fabolous wines but he has also brought over some amazing cheeses and proscuttio for everyone to sample.

The wines tasted were Reisling, Sauvignon, Malvasia, Friulano, and a superb Pinot Grigio (contradiction in terms?). If you would like to know more about our wine tasting events please click here.

Independent wine merchants have a reputation as being expensive. But set preconceptions aside, and there are bargains to be had the equal of any in a supermarket, says Fiona Beckett…

Ten Green Bottles is altogether funkier. This shop and wine bar in Brighton supplies restaurants as diverse as the Fat Duck and MsMarmitelover’s Underground Restaurant. They specialise in hard-to-find bottles such as biodynamic Saumur producer Domaine de la Paleine’s Scherzo 2008 (£10.99; 14% abv), a lovely, off-dry chenin that would add real class to jazzed-up turkey leftovers (creamy or spicy).

Domaine de la Paleine Saumur Blanc Scherzo, 2008, 14.5%vol, Italy (£10.99; www.tengreenbottles.com; 01273 567176).

© Guardian News and Media Limited 2010

A little about the producer
Domaine de la Paleine is located in the heart of the Loire Valley, close to the beautiful Collegiate in Le Puy Notre Dame. The Domaine’s extensive wine cellars run for 2 kms underground and maintain a constant temperature of 12° all year round, providing an ideal environment to lay down more than 100,000 bottles of vintage wines from the AOC Saumur appellation.

The vines of the ‘chenin blanc’ and ‘cabernet franc’ grape make up the majority of the 32 hectares of the vineyard. Leaving grass to grow in between the vines encourages her roots to grow deep into the limstone soil, exceptionally chalky the soil acts as a sponge retaining surplus water. A natural reservoir during the hot summer months the vines are able to feed their growing fruits. It is this action that gives the wines of Domaine de la Paleine their unique character: full bodied, yet subtle and fruity.

Ten Green Bottles, importers of fine wine and The Spanish Food Company, the UK’s newest, importer of Spanish speciality foods are teaming up at The Wine Shop & Tasting Room opposite the Jubilee Library in the heart of Brighton.

You’ll be able to sample everything from smoky Spanish chorizo to cheese from La Rioja and the wines that match it, all available to buy on the day. If you like what you try, buy a bag of goodies and some bottles to recreate the magic at home. As gift giving season hurtles toward us, take this opportunity to step away from the stress.

We will also be showcasing our wonderful hampers that can be taken away or will be available to order as gifts for pre Christmas delivery nationwide.

We hope to see you there!