How you can match a wine with your mood

Choosing wine is not just about matching with food. It can also be about matching with mood. There are times when we want bold flavours and lots going on in the glass; others when we don’t really relish an assault on the senses.

I find it particularly so with white wines. When I started writing about fermented grape juice, many years ago, I used to say that a lot of Irish people regard white wine as a kind of purgatory for the palate that must be endured until we are assumed into the heavenly realms of reds.

It’s not so much the case today. The likes of Pinot Grigio and Sauvignon Blanc have seduced a whole new generation; the same consumers have approached Riesling without prejudices; Gewurztraminer is no longer confined to the better class of Chinese restaurant.

There are times when we don’t want too much going on in the glass. Sauvignon Blanc, let’s face it, is a ‘loud’ grape, even when experienced in its most restrained, mineral, classic Loire form. Brilliant with a crottin of goat’s cheese, of course, but perhaps a bit too assertive if you’re just having some fresh fish cooked in butter with a squeeze of lemon. But again, it’s more a question of mood than food.

It’s at times like this that I turn to the white wines of Italy, and ideally ones that are both a little obscure and, in the best sense of the word, somewhat neutral. Neutrality is often a good thing although I’ll admit that it can be taken to extremes by some Italian producers whose wines are a reminder of the old adage that the Trebbiano grape is God’s apology for an unreliable water supply.

Grech et to can deliver agent le nuttiness, sometimes a refreshing touch of bitterness. Pecorino can actually be quite complex but rarely in a way that hits you over the head. Cataratto, in careful hands, is utterly charming and can rub shoulders with its posher neighbour, Fiano.

Let’s not forget Soave, although so many Soaves are, indeed, utterly forgettable. This week’s offering is one of the very best.

Sauvignon Blanc is, let’s face it, a ‘loud’ grape