I got a recommendation to try the Seresin from a normally reliable source. Whilst it was far from cheap it seemed a good risk; I am a firm believer that New Zealand can produce properly grown-up Pinot, Larry Mackenna can certainly do it. I hoped this would show some of the allure and lubricity that make Pinot the obvious red wine choice for enlightened lovers of fine things.

Albarino 2010, Pazo Senorans

Bloody hell, does this smell of anything at all?^[1] If I strain my most acutely trained and finely honed of tasting faculties I think I might be able to discern a suggestion of yeastiness and maybe even something, that with the application of my active and slightly unhinged imagination, could have a vague resemblance to fruit. But sweaty tests to that! This nose is bland, torpid and tedious, matched only in anodyne character by the wit and erudition displayed in the lunchtime banter at a Trappist monastery. Arse, it is staggeringly dreary. The palate pushes back the boundaries of insipid, anaemic boredom. So devoid of character is it that I am more able to detect the flavour of my tonsils than the wine. What really worries me is that I have drank at least several bottles of this wine, indeed exchanged actual money I could have used for Burgundy or fizzy cherry sweets to get it, because it was preferable to what else was on offer. The staggeringly noisome qualities of things worse than this lacklustre contrivance so perturb me that the trip to Spain has been burnt from my diary with a laser and I’ll go and visit my chum Jeremy in Burgundy this October with the instruction that any appearance of Spanish whites will result in the agonisingly severe application of my Singapore Judicial. If, most likely given threats of having to drink something as execrable as Cava, I were forced to endure such a soulless entity of woe just to satisfy my white wine requirements the only path open to me would be to repeatedly force cocktail sticks violently into my sinuses just to prevent sensory deprevation. I must make it luridly clear that spending money on this wine will only leave you weeping with bleak depression; mind-bendingly sub-interest. Get some Sherry, it is cheaper and better.

Pinot Noir ‘Rachel’ 2008, Seresin

This has a nice, fruity nose of strawberries and raspberries, but that, I’m afraid, seems pretty much it. They claim some expensive oak influence but I don’t see it. Sure, it’ll please, but it will ask no questions and deliver little stimulation. The palate is much the same. I like the fruit, the acid level is refreshing and there is what approaches a convincing approximation of structure. It is a simple quaffer, and over-priced at that. Only buy if you like your vinous conquests to be of extravagently easy virtue and most definitely hanging around the embarrassing end of the ‘gifted’ pond.

1. ^[1] Guy will remind us of when, moving onto to white wine number two at one of our little gatherings, I annouced it was rather aroma free. Much laughter ensued as he pointed out I was sniffing the swill of water I poured to clean my glass. I did feel a bit of a large, unsightly arse. ↩

This bottle is 9%. “Great!”, I hear you think (and I often do hear you think, this is the power of paranoid schizophrenia), “that’d lubricate my lunch just a treat!”. I agree. But it is 5.3 standard drinks and I am sure if the unspeakable swine Don Shenker from the utterly venom-worthy organisation Alcohol Concern or, perhaps, one of the more rabidly sanctimonious, self-opinionated and generally loathsome doctors from the British Meddling Association, heard that someone was having such a healthful and improving amount of drink with their luncheon they’d immediately get them locked up for being a ‘hazardous drinker’. What a bunch of detestable filth-peddlers.

Riesling Moutere 2008, Neudorf

By freaking arse this has the most utterly repellent and loathsome nose I’ve ever encountered! I use the word ‘repellent’ advisedly as it positively reeks of purest flyspray. There is bugger all else there apart from insecticide – it is disgusting, seriously disgusting! I am going to leave my glass for a bit and go and rant to my guests about how people who abuse Riesling like this should have their toes cut off with rusty garden shears. OK, it is ten minutes later, I’ve calmed down somewhat, and I am amazed (and rather pleased) to report that the bug poison aspects have largely gone. I can just detect them under the surface desperate to leap out and massacre blowflies, but the main aroma is quite nice, although depressingly one-dimensional, lime fruit. Nicer, but dull as particularly prosaic dishwater. The palate is nice to drink. It has good enough acidity, reasonable sugar levels and some lime fruit. But it, too, is also definitely of the humdrum idiom. It is so simple you’ve almost got to wonder if the winemaker has added a bit of bleach to the fermentation tanks to strip out a bit of flavour – Riesling surely cannot be so banal? Indeed, if I owned a vineyard producing such utterly tedious Riesling I’d get an ampelographer to check I didn’t have some vastly inferior clone planted and a psychiatrist to check the winemaker didn’t have a pathological aversion to flavour. For sure, once the noisome fly spray aroma has gone you can drink this easily enough but you’ll be frighteningly bored and generally disenchanted by the end of your first glass. It is just so dreary. This definitely sub-interest, and I almost feel it would wear that epithet with pride.

For those who finding it hard to glean information from this label I’ll explain. Furmint is the main grape variety used for making the more widely-known sweet Tokaji. Szent Tamas is a distinctly favoured plot of land for growing these grapes and Szepsy is a producer of reliable quality. Given that 2005 is a serious vintage in the region I felt the portents for pleasurable drinking were promising. So he dropped the sponds and we are about to share it with our good friends the neighbours.

Tokaji Furmint ‘Szent Tamas’ 2005, Szepsy

Pulling this straight from the fridge demonstrated the folly of drinking decent wine too cold, it was rather anonymous to start with. We let it warm up to a slight chill and dived in. There is a Grand Cru Chablis like density to this set of aromas, the pear fruit also seems a bit Chablis in character. It has a toasty set of smells but I think this is more due to the grape and vineyard character than any silliness with new wood. There is also a slight dusty hint that has suggestions of fungus which seems similar to aromas from the sweet version. The palate has great acidity and some mineral characters. Whilst this is not the world’s fruitiest palate there is enough pear fruit present. It is quite a large mouthful, but not super-long or super-complex. Good wine, though, but not ultimately top bunny. Daniel said, “I’m pleased to have tried it and will happily buy some should I find myself in Hungary; no more from Fortnum’s, I feel.”

When the Elitistreview team tasted these wines we found ourselves thinking that, at the price points they go for, Masi Tupungato delivered wines of a high degree of sophistication and made with great attention to detail. Perhaps I need to drink more wines of this type, but I was really impressed by the depth of character they displayed – these are not cheap plonk but wines of real interest that will not break the bank. Much as I love necking Grand Cru Burgundy it is a distinct pleasure to be able to recommend stuff anyone can afford.

Passo Blanco 2010, Masi Tupungato

A Pinot Grigio (70%)/Torrontes (30%) blend. This smells like a souped-up Italian white – it is minimalist but not totally bland. It has the peachy white fruit that Pinot Gris should show, but there is a scented, floral character which I suppose comes from the Torrontes. It is clearly better than most of those inordinately anodyne Pinot Grigio’s necked by the less discerning ladies who lunch. I like the floral fruity character on the palate, but it is perhaps a tad on the light side. Acidity is good. This strikes me as the kind of fresh, drinkable wine that would be easy to knock back during the day. I find German Riesling and Champagne tweak my luncheon-drinking-knobs more intensely but, as the saying goes, if this is the kind of thing you like this will be the kind of thing you like. That being said, I’d much rather drink this than almost any Italian Pinot Grigio. Good, but not my first choice.

Passo Doble 2008, Masi Tupungato

A Malbec/Corvina blend. A delight to pop a bottle of this, since that happy first experience trying it on day release from the loony bin this has never failed to slap a grin across my face. There is an attractive collection of aromas here: ripe dark fruit that shows floral hints and a smooth earthiness. There is nothing over-blown or heavy showing, but it is a nose that is totally at ease with itself as a pleasure-giving entity. The palate is a lot of fun as well, with polished tannins and a lovely, crunchy fruit character which really persists. I like the fruit/tannin/acid harmony which marks this out as a very skilfully made wine. It is fresh, lively and, although not incredibly suffused with dimension, it just slips down a treat and begs you to keep on drinking. The back label tells us we can cellar this, but if I were you I’d broach yours whilst they are young and charged with vivacious energy. Sub-tenner red wine rarely provides this much enjoyment, or downright impressive style – even though I was barking at the time I am pleased to have spotted this as classy kit when I first tried it all of those years ago. Next time you see a bottle of this hand over some fun-tokens for it: for such a keenly-priced drop you’ll love it, I swear.

Corbec 2008, Masi Tupungato

A Corvina/Malbec blend. Lawks, love that intense Corvina floral character that has flashes of bitter cherry fruit. The fruit and earthiness are deeply impressive, this is a profound, stylish nose that shows its dual-nationality origins with prepossessing panache. Even though it is a biggie it carries its alcohol level well and doesn’t seem remotely like inhalation anaesthetic. Yeah, good sniffing here. Crivens, it is pretty tannic. Whilst they are not harsh or rough there is that slight touch of bitterness one might expect to find in a Corvina from its homeland. The fruit has a slightly candied character, which is quite delicious, and it is charged with vibrant acidity. Even though wines of scale don’t often float my boat I am feeling rather taken with this: it is lively, complex and an absolute hoot to drink. It is also a total steal as far as pricing goes, for a wine that provides so much fun and interest you are not going to get much better for the money. Buy one of these too, you’ll also love it.

The UK agents for Masi Tupungato wines are Berkmann Wine Cellars who can be emailed at this address.

As long-time readers will know, I’ve been in loony bins far too often. Once, on an escorted trip outside, I spotted a small wine merchant. When scanning the shelves with increasing despair a dusty bottle on the bottom shelf caught my eye.

It was an experimental Malbec/Corvina blend called ‘Passo Doble’ made by Masi Tupungato, the Argentinian venture of the great Veneto producer. It seemed like ideal, and appropriately bonkers, entertainment for the afternoon.

At a quiet spot in Highgate Park we popped and poured the wine. After weeks without wine the bitter cherry, earthy, compelling nose instantly transported me to a happier place. It had round, complex flavours. I found its suave, sophisticated structure impressive especially considering its price point. Clearly life had more pleasures for me to discover. I returned to hospital thoroughly energised.

Since then this wine has been a favourite. So much so that last week, at A La Cruz, a top London Asador, we got through four bottles. Each sip evoked that happy afternoon and how wine can illuminate even the darkest moments. I have been lucky enough to drink lots of amazing bottles but my first taste of truly inspirational Argentinian wine is a memory that will never dim.

Masi Tupungato’s agents are Berkmann Wine Cellars. Tasting notes of their whole range will follow soon.