Diary of a Shopkeeper, 20th April

Ready for action…

Every day’s a school day. My biggest lesson recently was the meaning of Digwyddiad Arddangos Gwin Cymreig.

I’d come to London for a series of wholesaler tastings, but had nothing scheduled for my last day. Was there anything that would fill an hour and help justify my £450 return flight? Yes! And so I ended up entering glamorous 67 Pall Mall, then being redirected into their less than glamorous basement, to attend my first ever Welsh Wine Showcase Event.

I was vaguely aware of wine being produced in Wales. I remember tasting two or three at a trade fair a few years ago. They were interesting but not what I was looking for at the time, so I moved on. While my attention was focused on France, Spain, Italy, and 20 other countries, Wales moved on too. There are now nearly 50 vineyards scattered across the country – and nine of them were gathered in Pall Mall to show their stuff.

It reflects badly on me and my prejudices, but I’ll be honest: I was amazed at the high quality of almost everything on offer. I was expecting the kinds of wine I used to encounter when I started attending tastings of English wines twenty-five years ago: thin whites, weedy reds, sparklers better but often painfully acidic. (Everything’s different now, of course: the improvement in the quality of English wine has been one of the most exciting developments during my time as a shopkeeper.)

This was only the second ever Digwyddiad Arddangos Gwin Cymreig in London, and I suppose I expected to find quality reflecting the infancy of an industry. I was wrong: table after table provided wines that were interesting, unusual, and delicious – with the best of them being all three simultaneously. Yr Franc, for instance – a blend of Reichensteiner, Schonberger and Phoenix from The Dell Vineyard in Monmouthshire – was aromatic with a crisp, clean finish. The vines are 22 years old – a rare age here – which no doubt helps with the intensity of the fruit. And the Dell’s striking labels would make it stand out on any shelf.

Robin Goch, from Vale Vineyard up north near Denbigh, was an amazingly vibrant ruby hue. Was it made with some crimson-fleshed grape like Alicante Bouschet? No, it was a blend of Rondo, Cabaret Noir and Divico. Lovely Pinot Noir-like aromas, not much tannin, and crisp acidity to balance the ripe cherryish fruit. I’m a sucker for light but characterful reds like Beaujolais or Valpolicella, and this ticked all the same boxes. ‘Yeah, Rondo’s great for that style of wine,’ I was told.

Rondo? Rondo? And, for that matter, Cabaret Noir? And Solaris and Regent, which I enjoyed on other stands? What were these grapes?

‘They’re PIWIs!’

Again, I’m going to admit to my ignorance. I’d never heard of PIWI grapes before. Pilzwiderstandsfähige Traubensorten (every day’s a school day, remember) means simply Fungus-Resistant Grape Varietals.

These new hybrids, combining the genetic traits of European and American vines, have been developed over the past couple of decades. They’ve impressive resistance to fungal diseases, so thrive without chemical spraying. They do well in cool climates. And they taste like a proper wine you happen never to have encountered before. Good for them, and good for Wales.

Some better-known grapes were represented too. Velfrey Vineyard’s fizzes (my favourites in a strong field) blended Pinot Noir and Seyval Blanc. Their Rhosyn benefited from 22 months on its yeasty lees, and was an impressive sparkling rosé by any standards. White Castle Vineyard’s Pinot Noir Reserve was the most sophisticated red I tried. Last year White Castle completed their own production facility, which should provide opportunities for experimentation and closer control in years to come. It’s notable that the number of wineries in the country is tiny compared to the number of vineyards, with the wine actually being made by contract winemakers. As long as the grapes come from Wales, and the winery is in an English county that touches the border, the end product can still be classed as Welsh wine.

Will I be selling Welsh wines in the shop? Probably not, for two reasons. First, price: RRPs for still wines were £20 to £25, and for sparklers, £35 to £45. That’s competitive versus English wines, but still a tough sell compared to the classic producing areas. Second, and most important, quantity: some of these wines were released in quantities of two or three hundred bottles. The highest volumes were only a few thousand. It’s highly unlikely any will make it this far.

But if you happen to find yourself in Wales, and fancy something unusual and tasty, I can certainly recommend that you try a glass of Gwin Cymreig.

You can read more about Welsh Wine and a fortcoming promotional week (not in K&G, sadly) here.

This diary appeared in The Orcadian on 24th April 2025. A new diary appears weekly. I post them in this blog a few days after each newspaper appearance, with added illustrations, and occasional small corrections or additions.