There are times - the winter feast looming ahead is one - when we long for certainty. Forget surprises under the tree. The real need is for something reasonably stylish and utterly reliable - a familiar name, likely to crack a smile whether it's offered as a present, ordered in a restaurant or slipped on to the groaning table at home. I'm thinking about white Burgundy and its two kings, Louis Latour and Louis Jadot.
Between now and Christmas, the old Beaune house of Latour celebrates its 200th birthday with a still unbroken line from father to son, through seven generations. The white wines for which Latour is best known have been the most prominent and popular Burgundies in Ireland - so much so that, despite our relatively miniscule market, eight times more of them are lapped up here than in Britain.
Why? Old loyalties may have something to do with it, for the Gilbey family bought wine from whichever Louis Latour was in charge a hundred years ago. "But the real key to our success is consistency," explained Louis VI, in Dublin a few weeks ago.
Currently sharing power with his son, Louis-Fabrice, the present Louis Latour is hardly going to tour the world undermining his own dynasty. But . . . A few buts, in fact.
First, his point about consistency and reliability is widely echoed by Burgundy experts. Latour has long been respected, both as a negociant and as a grower-producer. And the wines speak for themselves - any that I've tasted over a number of years. But as well, Latour is candid enough about Burgundy's bad patch at the end of the 1980s, and the onward march of New World wines through the 1990s, to inspire overall confidence. "Customers were absolutely right to question the high prices which peaked in 1989 and then crashed," he said. "Since then, competition from abroad has stabilised Burgundy prices. The New World has introduced wine to a much wider audience, instead of limiting it to old army colonels. Wine drinkers are thriftier now, and women are taking the lead - which is a great thing, because as buyers they're more intelligent and less snobbish than men."
Hence the company so famous for top premiers and grands crus, notably the majestic Corton-Charlemagne, has worked systematically at producing more affordable wines from vineyards outside white Burgundy's main power base. Latour was among the first to spot what could be done in Montagny - now the source of one of its most popular and impressive wines (see Bottle of the Week). It has also maximised the potential of Saint-Aubin, SaintRomain and other villages off the main track.
Tradition also plays a major part in forging the wines of Louis Jadot - a 148-year-old negociant house, now under American ownership, with extensive and increasing premier cru and grand cru vineyard holdings. Andre Gagey was with Jadot for more than 40 years before recently handing over the running of the company to his son, Pierre-Henry. Jacques Lardiere, the winemaker - a passionate traditionalist - has been there since 1970.
To be truthful, since meeting this trio in Beaune last November I find it almost impossible to separate the appeal of the wines from the charm of the people and the place. (Andre Gagey, generously dispensing priceless old wines, turned out to be a keen annual visitor to Sligo. Jacques Lardiere drew a strange little man in my notebook to demonstrate a compelling theory about the way wine touches the sub-conscious.)
But, as with Latour, judges much wiser than me are on Jadot's side. "One of Burgundy's handful of utterly reliable sources," says Remington Norman in the second edition of The Great Domaines Of Burgundy. "A firm of uncompromising quality. . . a thoroughly trustworthy source of yardstick Burgundy," notes America's most opinionated wine scribe, Robert Parker.
The whites reach lofty heights in the Chassagne-Montrachet 1er Cru Morgeot Clos de la Chapelle and the Puligny Montrachet 1er Cru Clos de la Garenne, both from Domaine Duc de Magenta, and in Jadot's majestic Corton Charlemagne Grand Cru - any of which you may perhaps glimpse, or even taste, in a scattering of restaurants around the country. But the same care seems to go into making the humbler village wines and even the straightforward Bourgogne Blanc - half of it barrel-fermented to create a soft, creamy style. Palatable white Burgundy is worth buying at any time of year, but it has a special application in the season of indulgence. If you find yourself hunting for a bottle to please a pleasure-seeker - or perhaps just a pernickety old soand-so - remember the two Louis.
A white Christmas? Louis Latour 200eme Anniversaire Bourgogne Blanc 1995 (newly arrived; will soon be in many independent off-licences at about £8.75). To honour the fine old firm's bicentenary, a new wine - a blend of Macon and Montagny. Pleasant drinking at a decent price. Louis Jadot Couvent des Jaco- bins Bourgogne Blanc 1994/95 (Redmonds, McCabes, Vintry and other outlets, £8.99-£9.99) You wouldn't want to seize on every last word of Robert Parker - but here are a few that may be worth a glance. "Jadot's Bourgogne Blanc continues to be an excellent introductory wine to their style. It is clean and pure, with attractive, subtle, buttery, applelike fruit, decent acidity and a lovely mediumbodied, fresh taste." Unarguable! It's one of my favourite basic white Burgundies. Louis Latour Montagny 1er Cru La Grande Roche 1995 (Redmonds, Vintry, Gibneys Malahide, Foleys Cabinteely, Higgins Clonskeagh, Deveneys, Dublin Wine Co, Vineyard Galway, usually about £10.99). Explains, in one delicious mouthful, what the white Burgundy fuss is all about. See Bottle of the Week. Louis Latour Chablis 1er Cru 1995 (Superquinn, Nolans, Cooneys Harolds Cross and other outlets, usually about £15). An absolutely super Chablis - lively and exhilarating yet with good weight and a terrifically long finish.
Louis Jadot Saint Aubin 1995 (Supervalu Deansgrange and Verlings, usually £14.59). Burgundy in a softer, richer, rather toastier style, but still with all that subtlety that the New World so often has to struggle towards. Full and creamy - there are hints of baked apples, brown sugar and an attractive, spicy finish. Louis Jadot Meursault 1994 (Verlings, Redmonds, McCabes, usually £18.99). Meursault can sometimes be almost too fat and buttery for its own good, but this one is so perfectly judged that it's a total treat. Wonderfully complex flavours emerge, little by little, as it glides down, and they linger on and on. Magic.