When holidaying on the Greek island of Paros, a handwritten sign outside a small taverna attracted my attention; it proudly declared: “We make our own wine”. Obviously I had to eat at this tiny restaurant immediately, eagerly asking the waiter for the “house” dry white. It came in a coloured metal carafe, identical to the jugs used to serve school dinner custard. The wine was fresh and fruity, simple with clean flavours and absolutely perfect with the exciting array of mezze served. At the end of the very ample meal, I asked if I could buy a bottle of the wine to take back to the hotel. The owner of the taverna was ridiculously pleased that I had enjoyed his wine. He snatched the plastic bottle of water from my table, literally danced to the kitchen and returned the bottle with a full litre of the wine inside, refusing to take any payment for it. Throughout the holiday, whenever I passed the taverna, I was greeted with a wave and the gleeful shout “You like my wine!” Of course I ate there throughout my holiday and was always rewarded with a full plastic bottle of the delicious white wine to take away. I still dream about custard jugs and plastic bottles filled with deliciousness.
I am not alone in having a tale of a really delicious local wine that features heavily in the happy memories of a holiday. But more often than not, these stories end with an account of how disappointing the same wine is once back on UK soil.
Unreigned enthusiasm can be an issue. The need to be back in the moment the instant the suitcases are unpacked, means the wine has little chance to settle. Wine can suffer from jet lag; I would advise resisting temptation and waiting a week or two before opening. Even then it may not live up to expectation. It is possible that some wines simply do not travel but personally, I blame the holiday romance effect – can we call it wimance? – The atmosphere, sunshine, scenery and relaxed holiday mood all contribute to your emotional response. Once back in the old routine, the romance is lost and that miraculous nectar is transformed back into, at best, a rather ordinary wine, at worst, cheap and nasty alcoholic grape juice.
Sometimes you can be lucky enough to discover the wine of your holiday dreams in a UK supermarket, but be warned…the label may be identical but the wine may not. Buyers for major retail outlets often demand that regional characteristics and distinct flavours are removed from a wine, creating a British version, before it is put on the UK market. This may account for why a wine that thrilled when abroad is a rather bland affair back at home. The less cynical amongst you may believe that wines are altered in order to counteract ‘wimance’ and make the wine appropriate to the British weather and 9 to 5 demeanour. But the character is simply removed not recreated in British style and so UK versions of regional wines don’t excite. If our seduction by wine abroad shows us anything, it’s that the perfect wine to suit the occasion and mood does exist and regardless of how long it takes, we owe it to ourselves to find them, every one, for every mood!
