A country wine with a touch of city refinement

Vin de Pays de Cotes de Gascogne

The Co-op

£3.79 (price to be confirmed)

I'm not quite sure how I managed to miss this bottle of white lurking on the bottom shelf of our fridge but I came across it this evening while looking for, of all things, a new pack of butter. Sadly, our butter supplies are completely depleted but in its place sat this simple, unassuming Vin de Pays.

I don't recall buying it so I'm presuming it was procured by Sally & Bill (sister and brother in law) who have taken a serious, life long vow only to ever drink white French wine. It's a noble cause but one that I cannot subscribe to as it would require me to (a) avoid drinking wine that was red and (b) devouring wines from Bordeaux, which regular readers of this blog (all two of you) will know is one of my unavoidable (and equally unaffordable) obsessions.

Anyway, this chance encounter on the bottom shelf of the fridge with this country number from South West France provided me, Harry and Ruth with the excuse for a pre-dinner aperitif before we sat down to a truly exceptional Spagehetti Bologneise crafted by my son and heir. The young man was waxing lyrical about his Italian creation so I decided to calm him down with a pre-dinner glass of white wine which we drank alongside some left over cheese in the fridge.

Under the French wine classification system, a Vin de Pays wine is essentially a country wine - effectively better than a Vin de Table (plonk to you and me) but with not quite the reassuring provenance offered by a Vin de Pays D'Oc (which basically means that the origin of the wine comes from a designated territory).

So before us this evening stood, metaphorically speaking, a rough country lad in a green bottle with about as much pedigree as Kerry Katona's freezer and with all the doubts and misconceptions that this inevitably brings. However, my first, second and third glugs proved me wrong (not about Kerry Katona's freezer) but about the unexpected delights offered by this crisp, clean and refreshing wine which is made up of three grape varieties - Columbard, Ugni Blanc and Gros Manseng. I have to admit that I've only heard of the first of these grape varieties but I can also happily say that they all work well together to create a wine that has lemony citrus notes with a light clean vanilly taste.

The whole thing sits nicely on the palate and as the wine begins to lose some of its fridge temperature it becomes quite fragrant in a freshia (not freezer) and melony kind of way.

Emminently drinkable and with a smoother than expected composition, this is a highly acceptable and highly affordable aperitif - perfect for pre-dinner drinks with nice folk from the city or equally nice folk from the country. Who cares precisely where it has come from, it's nice to have found its way into my glass this evening.

On a more general note, and no disrespect to the glowing reference I've given this bottle, white wines do tend to get on my nerves after the second glass in a way that reds never do - unless they're truly atrocious. So even though I find it highly agreeable, I'd be moving on to something with more guts for the main course - and it would probably, no definitely, be red.

Dinner Party Appeal: 8/10 (more as an aperitif than the main centre of attention)

Value for Money: 9/10 (laughable price for the quality)

Probability of Buying Again: 8/10 (as a standby for drinks with nibbles I'd be daft not to)