This wine is indescribably good, which puts me in a bit of a philosophical cleft stick, with regards to continuing with this tasting-note. Damn! I had so many wonderful descriptions at the ready, like cinnamon-infused plums and kola nut swimming in orange juice and even a hint of shoe-shine, but that’s all academic now.

I realise that this wine is like the wallflower at the school disco. There’s nothing about its outward appearance that will attract anyone towards it, the name on the label is just a bunch of words that mean nothing to anyone (although I must admit, I have heard of Spain). It comes from a quiet, infrequently-visited part of Galicia, called Ribeiro, and is made from grapes that sound more like the subs bench at Celta Vigo: Sousón, Brancellao, Caíño and Ferrol. So, you have to ask yourself, why is it on our list? Maybe we are attracted to wallflowers, but there’s something really lovely about it once you’ve asked it to dance. It opens up and shows a lot of natural flair and seems to become more comfortable in its own skin once it hits the dancefloor (by that I mean your palate, just in case you’ve got lost in this metaphor), peacocking with Spanish bravado until the lights come on. 12.5% alc. No oak. Unfiltered, so slightly cloudy. Drink now-2026.