Soon after the beginning of the last academic year, an email came through from the eldest son, heavily charged with the twin student pre-occupations of poverty and thirst.
Urgent, Mum, please can you recommend half a dozen decent wines at about a fiver? Back went a hastily constructed list which seems to have scored about a Bplus after protracted practical examinations. This set me thinking. What wines do students really like, and why - apart from the fact that they cost no more than a pair of rugby socks?
The fastest route to an accurate answer, I decided, was to assemble a monster batch of bottles at budget prices and celebrate the start of the autumn term by organising a tasting.
Simon and his friends were, it must be said, the most eager panel of wine judges encountered in a long time. All third-years, representing, between them, Trinity, UCD and the University of Manchester, they dutifully sniffed, swirled, sipped and even spat their way through over 20 wines in two tasting sessions to arrive at the list of top favourites below. It was a revelation, from all our points of view. What surprised me most was how rapidly a group who claimed to know very little about wine began to comment with dazzling precision on subtle characteristics of smell, flavour and aftertaste. A few of my student tasters said they drank wine fairly regularly, but without paying much attention to names, grapes or regions. Sometimes they might share in a bottle at home; more often they'd drink wine at parties, including dinner parties. "Those are much more common among students now than you'd think," I was told in the tone that is always used to imply pathetic parental remoteness from real life. Others admitted they resorted to wine only when beer or vodka wasn't on offer. "I never really look at the label," said Bill, "and even if a bottle of wine is bad I'll drink it anyway." Yet within minutes these fast learners were detecting sulphur, likening oaked Chardonnay to buttery shortbread and finding fig roll flavours in Shiraz. They were surprised themselves. "After this I'd be much more inclined to sip a glass of wine and enjoy the taste than to drink it just for the alcohol," said Anna. But the biggest shock related to colour prejudice. At the outset, most of the group declared themselves white wine drinkers. "White is way, way more popular with students than red," said John, placing himself firmly in the white majority. "Because you drink it chilled, it's much more refreshing - so that means it's better at parties." Red wine, they felt, was often too bitter to drink in any kind of quantity.
Then a strange thing happened. As the tastings progressed, it soon became clear that the red wines were scoring much higher marks than the whites, many of which were judged - quite rightly - to be thin, tart or horribly chemical.
This was proof, I think, that in the very lowest price bracket it's often easier to find tolerable red wine than drinkable white. The whities on the panel were converted in the time it takes to make an entire house vibrate with Jungle music. "This is weird," said a UCD zoologist. "I didn't like red wine until two hours ago. Now I definitely prefer it." Where do apprentice wine drinkers buy their bottles? Not necessarily in supermarkets, as I'd imagined, but more usually in an off-licence with staff at the ready to advise.
My bunch of tasters, mainly Dubin Sixers, rated Redmonds of Ranelagh highest. "They're really nice in there," said a TCD computer scientist, to general murmurs of agreement. "They'll spend ages showing you different bottles and describing them to you, even though you've said you only want to spend £4.99." For the record, the Vintage in Upper Rathmines and O'Briens in Rathgar also earned honourable mentions for friendly service in an unintimidating atmosphere. Full marks to these wine merchants and hundreds of others like them for having the wisdom to nurture the next century's core customers. Maybe wine-loving parents should take the same long-term view. With any luck, if all the tutoring pays off, my email may eventually read rather differently. Urgent, Simon, please can you let me have half a dozen decent bottles from you cellar. . .?
Top marks for: whites...
Cape Country Colombard 1996 (Marks & Spencer, £4.79, reduced to £4.29 until end September). A pleasant, fruity white - peaches, lemons and Golden Delicious elements were all cited by the college analysts - at a specially appealing price. Jacob's Creek Dry Riesling 1996 (very widely available, usually £5.99). The white favourite by a wide margin. See Bottles of the Week. Orvieto Classico, Antinori, 1996 (Superquinn and many other outlets, usually about £5.65). A loveit-or-hate-it wine. Two tasters found it unpleasantly bitter; all the others, including me, praised its mouth-tingling freshness and delicate, lemony flavours. Carmen Chardonnay 1996 (very widely available, usually about £5.89). This Chilean Chardonnay was voted lighter and more attractive than the rather heavily oaked Californian and the over-sweet Australian which were also sampled. Soft apple and pear flavours lead smoothly into an assertively spicy finish.
Reds
Charamba Douro 1995 (Superquinn, Molloys and many other outlets, usually about £4.99). A popular Portuguese red whose bitter cherry centre is fleshed out by smoky, earthy qualities and the merest hint of chocolate. "For a wine that's light and fruity - it's not a heavy hitter - it has a lot of character," said Simon. Great value. Hardy's Banrock Station Mataro-Grenache-Shiraz 1996 (very widely available, £4.99-£5.29). More than any other, this was the wine that triggered the mass conversion from white to red. See Bottles of the Week.
Seppelt Moyston Cabernet-Shiraz 1995 (Dunnes Stores, £5.49). A more full-bodied Australian red that also went down a treat. Rich, sweet fruit (this is where the fig rolls crept in), a dash of cinnamon and a warming, peppery finish. Runner-up among the reds. Les Terrasses de Guilhem, Daumas Gassac, 1994 (O'Briens, Pettits, £5.25-£5.99). By this stage all the tasting inhibitions had gone, as you may guess from tasting notes that refer not only to dark berry fruits, vanilla and smoke but also to sweaty socks and coffee. "No, make that Baileys!" Applauded for richness, smoothness and the interesting way its flavours develop.