Back in September, I had a chance to taste a range of wines from Laithwaites, the ‘hidden giant’ of British wine retailing.

Giant? The company dominates the mail-order market in UK wine retailing via a variety of companies, brands, clubs and other identities (including Avery’s). Its full list of wines stretches to 2,900. I don’t think anyone else in UK wine retail approaches that.

Hidden? The company’s profile, despite this mail-order ubiquity, is curiously discreet. It’s never particularly wooed the UK press, preferring to communicate directly with customers — which it does very well. Much of the success of the business was built on founder Tony Laithwaite’s ability to sell wine via the printed word. Customers had the impression that Tony was the guy next door who’d just unearthed a bunch of interesting bottles … and was chatting animatedly about them over the garden fence. He (and now his writing team) makes it all seem interesting, fun and friendly – the magical combination. Not frightening, like ‘posh’ wine merchants; not banal, like supermarkets and high-street retailers.

The company has always bought well, too, sourcing worthwhile wine from odd places long before anyone from Tesco or Asda, or even Oddbins or Adnams, got there. The ‘Flying Winemaker’ concept was Tony Laithwaite’s idea. Laithwaites’ prices have never been the cheapest, aside from those introductory offers dangled via advertising or magazine flyers to get you hooked. When the bottles are opened, though, the customers are generally satisfied. They don’t, thus, begrudge Laithwaites the extra quid which helps subsidise the mailings and the delivery service.

By the way, back in 1983 or so, the company employed a certain Andrew Jefford for seven months. This came between my deep-frozen PhD on Robert Louis Stevenson and my first job in publishing. I stood around in a shop in a Surrey hamlet called West End with manager Nicky, and flogged Bulgarian Cabernet Sauvignon, La Clape and Sablet to the commuters of Lightwater, Bisley and Woking. Lest you think that this may sway me to look on Laithwaites through pink specs, I can confide here, for the first time in public, that I hated the company back then. It was a Thatcherite outfit in Thatcherite times. I remember tentatively asking about a contribution to travel expenses when, as a threadbare graduate student, I’d come all the way from Norwich to Reading for an interview on the off-chance of a job. Tony Laithwaite and his right-hand man Tim Bleach laughed and quoted the Tebbitt catchphrase “On your bike” to me as they shooed me out of the office. They were out (I felt a few months later) to exploit bright graduates as cheaply as possible. My salary was just over £3,000 per year; sales targets were all that mattered, and no one really had much interest in what the overqualified and underpaid new recruits had to offer. There were a few, rather grudging, staff-training sessions. After one session, word was sent back to me that I had been ‘smirking’. Not what the company expected of its staff in training sessions.

I do, also, though remember tasting a Montagny (1977, can you believe) in those training sessions which first made me realise what ‘buttery’ might mean when applied to wine; and I also remember tasting a revelatory Ch de Malle Sauternes from 1976, since when I have been a committed Sauternes-lover. Those sessions were also redeemed by the anarchic sense of humour of another new recruit at the Windsor store, Adrian Bentham. (That was why I was smirking – it was actually a wine-spraying belly laugh pressure-cooked into a taut grimace, provoked by one of Adrian’s muttered jokes.)

And you know what? Adrian is now master of all he surveys at Laithwaites – so I guess I just quit too soon.

Actually … I didn’t quit; I was fired. I recall a short conversation with my regional manager, Philippa Sydney (her husband Charles used to manage the Wokingham store; now they run a successful wine-broking business in the Loire) which ended “… well in that case I think you’d better leave.” So I left, embracing unemployment and London’s Herne Hill with elation.

None of which matters any more, of course. Here are some of the wines I enjoyed from the Laithwaites list back in September. At my request, most of the wines shown were red and that preponderance is reflected in these notes.

Whites

2006 Sauvignon Blanc, Terre des Cailloux, Touraine: £6.99
No grape variety is more widely planted in the wrong places around the world than Sauvignon Blanc (sooner or later I will write a Decanter column about this). Yet when, as here, it’s in the right place, it sings. I’ve never thought of Touraine as much of an appellation, yet this brilliant little Sauvignon proves that we should treasure Touraine just as highly as we do Marlborough. It’s different from Marlborough, of course: less flamboyant, but its aromatic leafiness is very pretty, there’s all the zip you could want on the palate, and you discover when it’s been in the mouth for a minute or two that it has real wealth and depth of flavour, too. 15/20

2006 Sauvignon Blanc Reserve, Casas del Bosque, Casablanca, Chile: £10.49
Much of Chile is the wrong place for Sauvignon, but not Casablanca: the aromas are graceful and appley and the palate is deep, a touch mushroomy, but has lots of depth and a succulently salty edge. The Touraine is better value but there’s nothing wrong with this. 14/20

2006 Rueda Seleccionada, Palacio de Menade, Spain: £7.99
45% Sauvignon in here, mixed with 45% of Rueda’s native Verdejo (another ‘green one’) and 10% Viura. It’s a touch oniony on the nose (a characteristic of most of the ‘green ones’) but I liked the intensity on the palate. 13.5/20

2006 Pecorino, Farnese, Chieti, Italy: £7.99
No, I didn’t know either: Pecorino is the grape, Farnese the producer and Chieti the place (in Abbruzzo). All very good, too: lovely pear and quince scents, with a surprisingly bright and lively palate, packed with luscious fruits. High-sited, apparently. These surprises are why I love Italy so. 15.5/20

2006 Visionario, Venezie, Italy: £8.99
A kitchen-sink blend of Tocai Friuliano, Malvasia, Sauvignon, Chardonnay, Gewurztraminer and Riesling. Forget all that, though, and relish the light, deft, harmonious apricot scents and subtle, vinous palate. Very Italian: understated and food-friendly. (Once I was an unredeemed sensationalist and used to dismiss understatement in wine-making; now I know better.) 14/20

Reds

2005 Fleurie Vieilles Vignes, Pardon, Beaujolais: £10.59
Great Beaujolais, this, made from 80-year-old vines in a peach of a vintage. Sweet strawberry and raspberry scents, turning on the charm, then a classically bright, fresh, juicy and lively palate with a savoury, spicy end and a touch of tar. Drinkability defined. I always think £10+ is going it a bit for Beaujolais, even the crus … but after this I tasted a Pirie Pinot Noir from Tasmania at £10.15 and a 2005 Stonewall Pinot Noir from Marlborough (Forrest Estate) at £11.15 — and the Fleurie was better than either. So yes, it is worth it. 15.5/20

2005 Ch Clarière-Laithwaite, Côtes de Castillon: £14.99
It was around 15 years ago that I first wrote an article in The Evening Standard saying that Castillon was the most underrated sub-region of Bordeaux, but Tony Laithwaite had already known that for a decade or more. This wine from the Ste Colombe sector has a typically juicy, attractive Castillon scent and supple, full flavours. Note, though, the super-zippy 2005 acidity which will surprise people (see my blog entry ‘Bordeaux 2005: The Onset of Winter’). 14.5/20

2004 Ch Branas-Grand-Poujeaux, Moulis: £20.95
Laithwaites, I’m told, has the UK exclusivity on this. Once again, the formbook would suggest that £21 for a 2004 from Moulis is just a little expensive, but never mind: it’s a great wine and a real success for the vintage. Saturated red-black in colour, with sweet, warm, rich and charming scents. The palate is close-textured and full, but the tannins are well-managed, almost velvety; there’s lots of classic dark blackcurrant, and an almost meaty, mini-Pauillac finish. 16/20

2005 Réserve Sixtine, Cuvée du Vatican, Châteauneuf-du-Pape: £21.99
Cuvée du Vatican, by the way, is the name of the producer (the Diffonty family) and, on the basis of this wine, a very good producer, too: savoury, earthy aromas with lush, full, rich and textured flavours of liquorice, meat and stone. It’s only right at the end of the palate that you realise how thick-textured the tannin structure is. It steals up on you – a hallmark of good tannin handling. Classically gutsy yet classically accessible too. 16.5/20

2004 Ch de Lagrezette, Cahors: £14.99
From what, in my opinion, is one of the three most undervalued appellations in France (the other two being Madiran and Bandol). Very dark, saturated black-red colour, with compelling scents of ash, ink and fruit perfume. On the palate, masterfully structured sloe and damson fruits in deep, chewy style: rigorous and long. A red of real authority for a dark winter’s night. 16/20

2003 Hugo, Calvet-Thunevin, Roussillon: £23.99
Lots of oak on the nose. It seems a little raisiny as you sip at first (which is what you’d expect from the furnace of Roussillon in the oven of 2003), yet there are unexpected depths to follow: chocolate, then an impressively mineral finish with some of the quasi-medicinal schistiness so typical of Roussillon’s Spanish Catalan twin: Priorat. 15/20

2002 Castillo de Jumilla Reserva, Jumilla, Spain: £7.99
Ah, Jumilla! What fun I’ve had with you down the years … This is for lovers of the old, oak-softened style rather than the young and meaty, though: it’s had 24 months in oak and has now had another three years in bottle. Ample, soft and expressive. 14.5/20

2005 Les Mines, Priorat: £12.99
This special parcel from Celles Fuentes is sold, I understand, by the Laithwaite’s ‘Outbound’ team, which specialises in telephone sales and has a number of its own exclusivities. If you’re an Outbound customer, tuck in: that classic Priorat scent of cherry fruit and smashed stone and apothecary roots comes wafting out, while the palate has all the power and depth of that great Catalan stoneyard but a much softer, lusher style than many. A hit, a palpable hit. 16/20

2001 Juan Ramon Reserva Familia, Bodegas Primicia, Rioja Alavesa: £13.79
Warm, relaxed, open, easy and accessible, all tannins dissolved, and the 20 months in French oak giving it a Havana fragrance. 15/20

2001 Amaren Reserva Especial, Luis Cañas, Rioja Alavesa, Spain: £21.50
This pure Tempranillo is dark red-black, with classily sweet, voluptuous scents. The palate is ample; the textures supple; spice, earth and fruits swim into each other. Beautifully handled tannins make for a suede finish. International in style, perhaps, but everyone will be back for a second glass. 17/20

2001 Essenze, Barolo, Terre del Barolo, Piemonte, Italy: £19.99
This is made by the region’s assiduous cooperative from fruit from their best vineyards in Monteforte and Serralunga. Typically pale and aristocratic in colour, with sweet, long, hauntingly pruney aromas which draw you down. The palate is full of the typically dry tannins of Nebbiolo, but since they are bonded to rich fruits and lifted by the aromatic power of the grape the overall effect is rich, gutsy and haunting. 17/20

2006 Antica Vigna, Biscardo, Puglia, Italy: £7.55
I’m told this is a blend of old-vine Negroamaro, Primitivo, Aleatico and Lambrusco which has been foot-trodden. It’s dark, smells of plums and damsons, and is big, lush and full on the palate. Then, as it lingers, you realise that the wine is actually sweet, almost candied (it contains 8 g/l sugar via back-blended must). I would have preferred a dry version, but many will relish that sweetness. A swell party red. 13.5/20

2005 Saperavi, Tamada, Georgia: £8.09
I include this since one doesn’t get many opportunities to taste Georgian Saperavi, but it wasn’t a great success: rustic and charmless. 11/20 (Stefan von Neipperg’s Bulgarian Enira justifies the £8+ price point far better. Laithwaite’s ought to import the Enira Riserva, especially from the fine `06 vintage: no one is bringing it into the UK yet.)

1997 Porta dos Cavaleiros Reserva, Dão, Portugal: £9.15
A wonderfully old-fashioned red: stewy, smoky, savoury scents, with a calm, relaxed, gentle palate brocaded with time-softened tannins. 15/20

2005 Carmenère/Cabernet Sauvignon, Casa Donoso 1810, Chile: £9.99
This blend of 60% Carmenère balanced by Cabernet Sauvignon includes fruit from centenarian vines. Style-wise, it’s super-Chilean: round, sweet, soft, voluptuous, almost cuddly. The finish tails off lazily like a summer afternoon. 14.5/20

2005 Shiraz, Kloovenburg, Peter du Toit, Swartland: £11.99
Swartland, for those who don’t know it yet, is South Africa’s Roussillon: not greatly rated in the past, yet now turning in some of the most complex and intriguing wines in the country. This isn’t up to the Eben Sadie/Columella standard, but is pure, close-grained and elegant, with liquorice spice. 14.5/20

2005 Saint Macaire, Calabria, Riverina, Australia: £7.99
Once again, I include this since it’s rare to get a chance to taste wine made from the Saint Macaire grape variety. I have checked the online version of the latest Oxford Companion, but there appears to be no entry for it; Jancis Robinson’s little Oxford pocketbook Guide to Wine Grapes (publ. 1996) merely says “unidentified California grape producing rather ordinary table wine”. The name, of course, would suggest a Bordeaux origin: St Macaire lies across the Garonne from Langon. This wine, anyway, has a dark, almost black colour, with an enticing aroma: full-on, glowering, almost Petite Syrah or Alicante Bouschet-like, plus crushed pepper and spice. As so often with Australian reds, the palate doesn’t quite live up to the promise of the aroma: it’s deep and vivid but lacks width and wealth of flavour and naturalness of balance, and is oddly low in tannin. 12.5/20

2006 Malbec, Schroeder Estate, Patagonia: £10.99
Made, I’m told, from berries dessicated by the endless winds of Patagonia. If so, the endless winds have done a good job: this has a lovely perfumed freshness to its bright plum. On the palate, it is earthy, powerful, deep, strong and pure, very much an old-vine style, backed by soft and ample tannins. Admirable. 16/20