Here’s a wine that will put the Zip-a-Dee into your Doo-Dah. It’s an unoaked Grenache Blanc from vineyards high up in the Pyrenees with brisk aromas of lime sherbet and chalk dust and a palate that is similarly citrus-focused and mineral-cut, but cushioned by softer notes of pear, dried apricot, white almond and gardenia flower. High-density planting, means that the vines have to compete for water and minerals, so the roots go deep into the limestone soil and that really shows up on the palate where you sense a chalky character in both taste and texture (i.e. a little talc-like friction that gives the wine a backbone). As you would expect, the label depicts two cats dressed as astronauts.

I’ve been in a difficult relationship with Grenache Blanc for years, falling in and out of love with it, delighted and disappointed by it in equal measure. What I have noticed after much ‘experimentation’, is that when it’s good, it usually comes from poor, limestone soils and it articulates its terroir as eloquently as a wine can do in Chablis or Calce or Pouilly-Fumé. When it’s less than good, it usually comes from rich, fertile soils, which overindulge the fruit with too much sugar making it floppy and lethargic.  

Grenache Blanc wines that have knocked our socks off include the ‘Montmajou’ from Les Eminades and Jean-Philippe Padié’s ‘Fleur de Cailloux’ and although this isn’t quite in that league, it offers enough intrigue, freshness and minerality to justify a rallying cry at the extremely appealing price of £13.95. It has already become a ‘fridge door favourite’ and works as a delicious ‘livener’ while you are cooking, but as it approaches room temperature, it really opens up and deserves a place on the table, giving you the essence of Grenache Blanc from the south of France: zesty, lime-scented and dusted with chalk, as if you are drinking it while a dust-devil swirls through vineyard. Drink now-2029. 13% alc. Vegan-friendly. Screwcap.