I’ve been spoiled over the last couple of weeks. I shared Yquem `98 (luscious and underrated; 16.5/20) and Mouton `99 (fresh, lively and drinkable; 15.5/20) in Birmingham at a charity lunch organised by financial consultant Richard Usmar. The lunch ended with some ancient port which had been lurking long in Richard’s convivial cellar: Sandeman 1908 (burnished yet rose at its heart, harmonious, glycerous and succulent, with more than a memory of fruit: 15/20) and Rebello Valente 1924 (herbal barleysugar – tho’ interesting since this would have been substantially based on Quinta de la Rosa; 12/20). We had a Warre 1977 to compare with it (still structured though no longer fleshy; tea leaf and rose; 16/20).

What’s a convivial cellar?, you may be wondering. Answer, in Richard’s case, anyway: not a temple of worshipful gloom, but one kitted out for enthusiastic drinking. Table, chairs, corkscrews, glasses … laughter. The lunch was elsewhere, but you could tell the bottles were a happy lot.

With Stuart Tunstall and Zo Pacula in Windsor, over a melting lamb stew accompanied by a feast of fine vegetables from Zo’s allotment, another look at the Pavie-Macquin `97: quite serious and sinewy now, and probably nearing its peak (15/20).

Then lunch with Chris and Emma Ventris (Chris fresh from his acclaimed opening-night Parsifal at Beyreuth), where we pitched Léoville-Poyferré `99 against the Bandol Lafran-Veyrolles Longue Garde `98, both from my cellar. I’ve loved the Léoville-Poyferré since day one, in truth, and this was the second bottle in a month; the case will soon be gone. It’s got wonderful roundness, ripeness, succulence and drinkability; magnificently approachable classed growth claret, yet its breed emerges in the classy fruit. Oddly enough, though, pairing it with the Bandol made me notice a little carapace of oak for the first time. Blind, Chris and Emma gave it their vote, relishing that fruit (they found the Bandol a little dry). I was torn. I thought the Bandol glorious: leathery perfection, resonant and long, splendidly textured. On the day, I gave the Léoville-Poyferré 16.5/20 and the Lafran-Veyrolles 17/20, though the former has felt like a 17.5 point wine on previous occasions. (Different days = different wines.)

We also caught up with the Veuve Clicquot Grande Dame `88 (16/20; less nervy and sheer than many `88s, but well-constructed and mineral; certainly better than the inconsistent and only moderately ambitious `95 Grande Dame, which I know well); a look at the 2002 Clos du Papillon Savennières from Baumard (needs longer); and a half of Rieussec’s `97 (16/20: toothsome and plump).

By the way, Bordeaux `97s, `99s and `01s are all drinking wonderfully well now (I have some Verdignan `01, not sure why, tried a bottle again recently and, as before, found it great fun to drink thanks to the intrinsic balance of the vintage, though its fruit is not particularly pure or focussed). I’m sure, prices being what they are, that many Bordeaux from these vintages will be kept for another decade or two, then opened with great reverence and expectation. Folly! Now is the time to drink them, even the very best. See ‘The Mission’ blog.

A dinner on Tuesday night at Theo Randall hosted by my Waitrose Food Illustrated editor William Sitwell with wines kindly supplied by Nick James of Pol Roger. Exemplary Champagne of course, complemented by Josmeyer Riesling, Crown Estates Tokaji and Querciabella from Tuscany. The 2001 Batàr from Querciabella has the highest ambitions (just say the name to yourself), but I found this blend of Chardonnay and Pinot Blanc a little laborious (14/20). The 1996 Camartina (mostly Cabernet with some Sangiovese), though, was hugely impressive: structured, firm, forceful, fresh, full of life (17.5/20). More on interloping French varieties in Tuscany at the end of this blog.

Then came Argentina’s generic annual tasting in London. I will be revisiting Argentina in December, so most of my tasting earlier this week was sleuthing round the edges (Salta and Patagonia) rather than gorging on what I already know to be some of the greatest wines in the southern hemisphere (from Mendoza – of which more in early 2009). I did, though, solicit another taste of the two Cuvelier wines from Mendoza which impressed me so much at first taste in March this year: Los Andes Grand Vin and Grand Malbec. The Grand Vin is a complicated blend (70% Malbec complemented by Bordeaux varieties and Syrah) which emerges lush and chocolatey (16/20); the Grand Malbec, though, for me has greater purity and fruit class, with magnificently crafted tannins and extract and a more adult, spicier finish (17/20). Steve Daniel who is importing these wines to the UK (Novum Wines: http://www.novumwines.com/) tells me that subsequent vintages are even better. By the way, in March I scored them 17 and 18 respectively, against very serious peer-group competition. Flirting with grandeur.

The following day, a co-hosted lunch with the charming José-Alberto Zuccardi at the Gaucho Grill in Swallow Street (a beef-fest, of course). Wine of the day according to the votes of the guests was the seductively sweet Q Tempranillo, but the lunch included Pinot Grigio, Sangiovese-Bonarda as well as Cabernet and Malbec, proving that Argentina has real varietal width.

After that lot, you’re probably thinking, I deserved a bit of punishment, and Friday was duly spent on an industrial estate in the shadow of Didcot Power Station, for obscure reasons which don’t bear relation here.

Next week, though, is an exciting one: an overdue return to the Languedoc. In particular, I will be visited an estate whose wines so impressed our household when first sampled that we have referred to its creating triumvirate as “the geniuses” ever since. Who are they? The answer will be blogged later – or watch out for my next ‘One Bottle’ column in World of Fine Wine issue 21.

Oh yes … interloping French varieties in Tuscany. Earlier this evening, Franco Ziliani mailed me as follows:

Dear Andrew, next October 3 in Siena’s historical Aula Magna of Siena University we will talk and discuss about Brunello di Montalcino, proposal of changes in appellation regulation. We, or rather the oenologist Ezio Rivella, managing director of Villa Banfi for many years, coupled with the oenologist Vittorio Fiore, supporter of the change, of a Brunello produced not only with Sangiovese grapes, but also with an amount of other grapes (Merlot, Cabernet, Syrah, Petit Verdot and so…) and me, wine writer and editor of the wine blog Vino al Vino www.vinoalvino.org, and editor with Jeremy Parzen of wine blog VinoWire www.vinowire.com coupled with traditional Barolo producer Teobaldo Cappellano from Serralunga d’Alba, strong supporter of a Brunello di Montalcino made only with Sangiovese grapes from Montalcino. This “Face to face on Brunello”, promoted by “Vinarius”, most important Italian wine shops association, is a contribution to the debate on Brunello’s future, and the “duel” will be live broadcasted in streaming on www.intoscana.it and on www.vinarius.it. The rendezvous is on the 3rd of October, at the first floor of Palazzo del Rettorato, Via Banchi di Sotto, 55 in Siena.

I won’t be able to catch the stream, since I’ll be in Taiwan then, but I have told Franco that I’m rooting for him and Jeremy in the duel. Not because I don’t believe in interloping grapes in Tuscany. As my comments on the Querciabella Camartina indicate, Cabernet can be startlingly good in Tuscany, as can Merlot (in Bolgheri especially). Hurrah! But what’s wrong with the Toscana IGT? Same price; same glory; most consumers don’t even notice the legal tagline. Muddying the time-honoured varietal purity of the DOCG is pointless vandalism. I now look twice at every Chianti Classico (which allows up to 20% interlopers), since I never know if I’m going to get the real thing or a closet IGT Toscana. I don’t trust it any more. The meaning of Chianti Classico has been punctured and devalued. Why?