If you are a UK-based reader looking for an introductory guide to wine now, I would say that Fred Siriex's new book, published in autumn 2022, is the most approachable in tone.
However this one is shorter, gets straight to the point, and is by a world-class expert in the field (not merely a likeable TV presenter who has relevant work experience) – and if you're someone who likes to acquire a certain amount of terminology and facts quickly when you've decided you're interested in a subject (I certainly am), this will suit you.
That's my nutshell review of the book. What follows is more about Robinson and about British TV and various Xennial experiences and tastes in booze.
I had thought I was going to read Siriex’s book first, but after a few pages, I decided to start watching Robinson's 1995 TV series A Companion to Wine, which is currently on YouTube in its entirety. (I understand that these days one can't post links, which if I were still doing this stuff regularly, I would find extremely annoying, and would probably have decreased my site participation anyway. It's terrible because one can't demonstrate the rigour of factual assertions and allusions without adding a lot of extra words, like a more conversationally worded version of an academic referencing system. It would be too much work for the vast majority of readers to follow up on anyway. Yet it's more necessary than ever these days to provide good quality sourcing online.)
I was certainly watching plenty of BBC TV in 1995 as a teenager, but not this, though I did frequently end up seeing the wine experts on the show Food and Drink because it was on at 8:30 pm - a time of waiting for more interesting post-watershed programmes to start. (In those days a lot of the good comedies were on at 9 pm, such as Father Ted or Friends or Absolutely Fabulous, and other shows that people rarely talk about any more.) And while I wouldn't say the 90s British food revolution was one of my main interests then, I seemed to think it was worth keeping up with in a low effort way via a handful of TV shows.
I was aware of Jancis Robinson – not a regular on Food and Drink as far as I remember, but possibly sometimes a stand in or a guest – though she had never made a particular impression on me prior to this year, whereas I always firmly liked the then-oft-satirised Jilly Goolden. (Friends who've had spoken conversations with me will understand why! A similar level of enthusiasm for stuff I'm into was a side of myself I didn't know how to express effectively until years after I'd left home. I think traditional British reserve had a problem with Goolden's manner, and I now admire her for continuing to resolutely be herself when she was constantly mocked in comedy and in print media. That sort of expressiveness has thankfully become a lot more accepted and liked over the last 20 or 30 years.)
And wine just wasn't particularly cool if you were a teenager in the 90s. Not that I went out much in a town I couldn't wait to move away from, but I remember choosing Smirnoff Moscow Mules as what I considered to be a slightly more sophisticated but-still-fitting-in alternative to the other girls’ Hooch, Two Dogs, Archers and Bacardi when I was with one crowd I might now call normie or mainstream, and where it was possible to be a bit indie or alternative (unusual there and at my school), the cider and black so often mentioned in the music press.
Then at university beer was clearly the thing. The craft beer culture is usually associated with millennial hipsters from the mid 2000s onwards, but its roots were already present in my generation when we were 18. You just had to get the balance exactly right. Among everyone I knew, you were an idiot if you chose piss like Carlsberg; with the indie kids you couldn't be too CAMRA, though you should choose certain local and British and Irish beers that weren't too obscure or pretentious; another geekier crowd were unashamedly budding CAMRA types who looked forward to trying new special beers and were also as serious about whisky as their limited budgets would allow. And everywhere it was definitely cool for girls to drink beer; it had to be a whole pint for respect, not a half.
Wine, I guess, was associated with Sloanes, posh rich students whom I heard being slagged off by those I knew, more often than I actually encountered them socially. I believe Alex James from Blur was known for his wine habit, but this just didn't seem relevant. Around me then, it was either the type of Britpop crowd that was a bit laddish without being boorish and ignorant like the stereotypical Oasis fan, and which was into more obscure music like American indie; or it was geeks in black t-shirts with hardcore knowledge of programming, Pratchett, puzzles and other typical geek interests.
Though when I moved to London, I finally met and made friends with people who had been into, and in a few cases created, the feyer, charity-shop-glam type of indie which had been what I most hewed to in its heyday. I wasn't drinking at the time but I did meet a few people, particularly gay and bi men, whose favourite drink was wine. Yet they still seemed like outliers in my mental map of music taste and drink among our generation.
When I did start to drink again, relatively recently, I swiftly realised that I didn't actually enjoy beer much at all. Which seemed to explain a few things about how I felt when drinking as a student. Free of the weight of social expectations that sits so heavily on the shoulders of teenagers and twentysomethings, I could discover what I did and didn't like, drinks with a mixture of associations and images.
Some "serious", like red wine and my stubbornness that it should be preferably organic and definitely Old World. (By Old World I include Central and Eastern Europe, and the whole Mediterranean region, anything that hasn't crossed an ocean from an Anglophone former colony, not just the traditional Western European wine countries.) Red wine is, to me, warm, a quality I consistently like in drinks where I find it; also in decent whiskey and certain, mostly rather old-fashioned liqueurs. Other drinks I find I like are considered girly, or rather, they are associated strongly with average middle-aged women, women my age nowadays … Yeah I rather like Prosecco… (Unsurprising really, as the only wine I have clear memories of enjoying in my teenage years was other sweet white Italian fizz, by the name of Piemontello.) … but I think I now prefer Cava and I haven't yet tried French Crémants. I guess the fact that I seem to get on with gin but I prefer it good quality leans fairly feminine and middle class; I am not sure to what extent the old associations of G&T as posh and masculine still exist in other people’s minds – those who have been constantly within drinking culture over the last decade. And well, Pimms is Pimms. I would never have let myself try that at university – and I suspect most of the pubs I went to didn't even stock it – though if I'd known I liked it, maybe I would've found a way to make a thing of it, and learned to live with the teasing that actually I was posh after all.
If I want to be a wine buff, something that has appealed to me for a few years because the collection of facts around geography and history and nature and farming and climate that it entails is very much my sort of thing, maybe I would need to expand the range of wine I'm prepared to drink in the longer term, but for now I think a relatively narrow focus might be quite useful. It means less information to absorb, a possibility for depth rather than shallow breadth.
I just don't seem to like still white wine. There's a sort of stomach hollowness and slight sickiness that it makes me feel after a really small amount, very similar to beer. I can understand the raft of articles from the mid-2010s in which women said that (still) white wine made them moody or aggressive; it doesn't make me feel like that, but maybe a germ of it that I can feel subconsciously, and control because I just instinctively don't want to drink more than about half a glass of the stuff at a time. The one white I could drink the most of didn't give me the weird hollow feeling until after a whole glass, so maybe there's something to do with quality or type, but why faff around with that when I like red and it's interesting and it's better for your health anyway?
Another thing typical of the middle-class Gen X’er these days, or at least a subset of us, is a fascination with healthy diet.
I am a fan of Tim Spector, probably the best known and respected academic nutritional scientist in the UK, and his recommendations have been one of the influences in making black coffee and red wine among my favourite drinks these days. (It's also just cheaper and easier not to bother with oat milk, which is why I started drinking black coffee; after a few weeks I started to prefer it, with what had been normal coffee now tasting like some kind of special treat milkshake that was too sweet most of the time.) One of Spector's Zoe podcasts from March 2022 entitled ‘Alcohol: Can it ever be healthy?’ is particularly good on bringing you up-to-date with research on benefits of red wine, which only makes it sound even better than before – and also some beer to be fair – and unlike a lot of their other podcasts doesn't just cover or confirm material you will have heard elsewhere if you're interested in these nutritional science topics.
This does also mean that I generally think of red wine as the best booze whereas in descending order Pimms, G & T and fizzy wines I see as a sort of junk food, from ultra processed to merely highly processed. And of course with those, they are more acidic on the teeth.
Wine is also one of the few areas that allows me to act according to some of my fairly hardcore environmental opinions in a no-risk and uncomplicated way, whereas, for example, I can't really cycle because of a history of sports injuries. Because wine is sold on the basis of its country and there is always a variety available, it's super-easy not to give in and buy something from further away, or just ignore the provenance, unlike with fruit and vegetables. Unfortunately I can't afford to buy natural wines made by people who use horse ploughs and transport them by sailboat, but if I could I would.
But finally, back to Jancis Robinson. Watching her series from 1995, made when she was around my age now, she reminded me tremendously of the best, and my favourite, teachers from school, women who were academically rigorous and possessed gravitas and whom the other pupils were generally a bit scared of. I found that I liked her a great deal. When I was a teenager I never would've thought I wanted to be like her, particularly because of the way she dressed, classic and even Sloaney, but if I had thought that in those days, about her manner and knowledge, I would have certainly been better for it than I was from wanting to emulate the messy rockstars and writers who defined what was cool then for many indie white teenagers. It was interesting in the show how many other female experts she interviewed without ever making a big deal of it. It's the sort of thing that one often assumes has only been done over the last decade. Often young people online seem to forget how much some women of my mother’s generation actually achieved. There are number of interviews throughout the series in French, and in one episode, a couple in Spanish. Her French there seems to be about the same level as mine is currently (it seems only likely to have improved since), and frankly it's not something you see very much, British presenters and journalists who are able to have a conversation in another language they weren't brought up in, even if it's B2ish and not quite as fluent as many Europeans are when they speak English.
This book is seven years old now and a few things have changed although not so much that the book doesn't remain rather useful.
I don't think Malbec was as big a deal when it was written as it is now. And personally, I would've liked a bit more on Primitivo (Italian Zinfandel) and Monastrell (Spanish Mourvedre), two grapes that are common among the organic European red wine on sale under £10 at the moment. (My favourite or default wine is Terre di Faiano Primitivo, and I haven't yet encountered a Monastrell I liked, and I don't yet understand enough about it to know why.) But there's other information out there on specific varieties and regions, such as the 10 to 20 minute videos on the Wine With Jimmy YouTube channel, which are about the level of geeking that currently suits me.
In her recent articles Jancis Robinson writes not only about wine itself but about the effects of climate change, about environmentally better packaging (persistently) and efforts to decolonise the wine industry, regardless of a dozen FT commenters below the line saying to “get back to what's in the bottle”
Clearly I am now a fan, and with a newish interest it is nice to discover one or two, or a handful of, experts one finds likable, to orientate oneself around and to differentiate from somewhat as one learns more.