There was an interesting Dispatches documentary on Channel 4 last Monday called “What’s In Your Wine?” It was a bit up and down, and it didn’t reveal much that I didn’t know already, but then I have been working in the wine business for nearly 18 years.

The big issue was about “additives” in wine and how they aren’t declared on the label. Fair enough, the programme made a case for a more comprehensive labelling of what is used in the making of wine, but many of those “additives” are simply vectors that convert the grape juice into a palatable wine. These include yeast (which converts grape sugars into alcohol and carbon dioxide) and malolactic bacteria (which convert harsh malic acid into softer lactic acid, a process that is almost universally used in the making of red wine and occasionally in whites.) Sugar is sometimes added before fermentation in order to boost the final alcohol level (a process called chaptalisation), and tartaric acid is sometimes added in exceptionally hot years. Both of these occur naturally in grapes anyway. Oak chips are occasionally used to give a woody flavour to wines, mainly because the market demands it but is reluctant to pay for the cost of ageing in an oak barrel. Powdered egg white is a natural product that is used to fine wines (i.e. remove a haze caused by a naturally occurring protein deposit.) Sulphur dioxide is usually declared on labels, and without it there would be no wine at all, as the grape juice would have gone off before it got a chance to ferment.

The conclusion arrived at was that the big corporations (mostly in the New World) are the ones most likely to have all the hidden additives in their wine, and that consumers should seek out more naturally-made wines from small producers. That’s all very fine and dandy, but as something like 95% of the wine purchased for off-premise consumption in the UK is bought in either supermarkets or off-licence multiples, choice is limited. Also, the mass market actually prefers the confected, tutti-fruity wines of the big New World corporations, and your average punter who is used to supermarket wines would find most small-estate wines too complex for their palates.

Here in Ireland, we have the all-encompassing embrace of the supermarkets as well, but given that our home-grown supermarkets are that bit smaller than their UK counterparts, it is possible to pick up a nice bottle or two from Dunnes, SuperValu or Superquinn. However, we have a wonderful array of independent wine shops, mostly owned and run by serious and knowledgeable wine enthusiasts. A wine blog called Sour Grapes has started a collaborative Google map which pinpoints the good wine shops of the country. This is an invaluable resource for the Irish wine enthusiast.

Last Saturday, Pat Carroll wrote an article in the Irish Times all about alternative closures to cork. Cork taint now accounts for something like one bottle of wine in seven being out of condition. I am a vocal advocate of the screwcap as the closure of choice. The main argument in favour of corks is that they preserve “the romance” of wine. I would much prefer if the closure would preserve the flavours and aromas of the wine, but maybe that’s just me.

The best argument I have ever heard against corks goes like this. Imagine for a moment that screwcaps were the accepted closure for wines since time don’t-know-when. Then someone comes along and says “Hey! I have a great idea. Why don’t we seal bottles of wine using the bark of an endangered species of tree that is only grown in one part of the world? We harvest the bark, boil it, bleach it and cut it into plugs that are then forced into the bottle in such a way that you will need a special tool to remove it. And as a special bonus, it will render one bottle in seven undrinkable! C’mon, what about this?”

Finally, this week saw the death of Didier Dagueneau, one of the great mavericks of the wine world. His Pouilly Fumé wines were without parallel, especially his cuvées Silex and Pur Sang. His reputation went before him, and legend had it that his arguments with his neighbours about their approach to growing grapes and making wines sometimes ended up in fist fights. He refused to use the formal “vous” in conversation, even once, it is said, addressing the former French president Jacques Chirac using the informal “tu”.