Top drops: An expert's best Greek wine picks for February

Years ago, while living in Japan as the country's only Master of Wine, I was assigned by the Greek government to venture to Greece's major wine growing regions. Their quest was to have me discover viable wines for Japanese importers to distribute. Excitement was building on the cusp of the 2004 Summer Olympics, to be held in Athens. The Greek trade commission's theory was that the Japanese public, fervent believers in provenance, would seek communion with the Olympic fanfare by drinking little but Greek wine over the course of the Games.

Their theory was a good one. I visited Attica, the Peloponnese, Macedonia, Crete and Santorini to discover a wealth of Indigenous grape varieties rivalled by few countries but for Portugal and Spain, while exceeded only by Italy. Think assyrtiko, xinomavro, moschofilero and savvatiano. Back then, some of the winemaking was a sort of globalised idiom and a bit forced: extract and clunky oak, much like Australia in the '90s. Things are different today. A hark to an unadulterated antiquity has served to breathe new life into Greece's bounty of possibilities.

In Macedonia I travelled to high volcanic country, living on the edge of xinomavro's spindle of tannin and acid nerve, while in Santorini I combined salubrious digs with stunning vistas, turquoise waters and a diet of fish, instead of the ubiquitous lamb of the mainland. All with gallons of dry, characterful assyrtiko. Good wine is a conduit between our glass and beautiful moments. And trust me, when things heat up, few cultures do beautiful moments better than Greece!

Xinomavro from Naoussa, Macedonia's equivalent of a top growth, capable of superlative reds of structure and fuller weight, such as this. Cinnamon, five-spice, sandalwood and mulled cherry. A mandala of edgy tannin and bright, almost alpine freshness due to vineyards nigh on 400 metres. Not dissimilar to quality nebbiolo. Brilliant with charcuterie.

Same producer. More xinomavro. This time, lower altitude vineyards and a shorter stint in oak service, a friskier, more mid-weighted expression that is as versatile at the table as it is easy to drink in large drafts while alone on the couch. Sapid cherry, campfire and rosewater, rendered with a deft touch.

A mathematics professor who decided to dabble in wine. A great decision as he has become, irrefutably, the finest producer on Santorini and arguably, of white wine in Greece. Sea spray, cactus flower, spiced quince and preserved lemon. A saline rush across the mouth. Mediterranean white of the highest order.

Okay, this is not Greek. But in the context of tourism of the mind, we are on a spin across the Med to swoon with Mick Jagger in Saint Remy while guzzling dry rosé like this.

Klaus-Peter Keller is the greatest practitioner of dry riesling. Single site expressions fetch meteoric prices, yet the stepping stone into the range remains a brilliant curtain raiser. Freshness melded to breadth. Wild fennel, pebble stones and orchard fruit accents blaze brightly.

A Vermouth of sorts, lost in 1910. A confluence of white wine, spirit and herbs, including Fynbos, a collective 8500 species from the Cape. Little surprise Madrid, Buenos Aires and Paris embrace
its sublimation of a Latin fascination with transcendental contemplation. Perfect when slipping towards the abyss.

Lenoble is a family-owned Champagne house of the highest order, sited in the Grand Cru commune of Chouilly, the source of powerful chardonnay. Eighteen refers to the base vintage, a foundation for truffle, cinnamon, maple and peach, with a whiff of brioche across a rich, toasty finish.

I visited in 2003, before the Jura became fashionable real estate. A culture of farmers hewn to small plots, volumes and complex wines. Riveting wines birthed by flor, the benevolent yeast. Cardamom, chamomile, curry powder and cheesecloth.

This delicate and expressive Pinot Meunier is perfect red for sunny days, possessing plenty of flavour, punch and zest yet without heft. It's a heady, spicy and lively wine with fine silk
tannins, plenty of refreshing acidity.

The magnum for lonely nights or the hordes. Few do it better than Wynns in Coonawarra. Those red loamy clays and underbelly of limestone deal a card of currant, dried sage and menthol, drawn from a deck of finely wrought tannins and an air of sophistication.

Champagne is cold, the fizz frothy and the finish a bit sweet. Fruit is largely blended from all over the joint to come up with a house style, over anything of place. The grower revolution changed that! The new world order: dry salinity, a wisp of chalk and autumnal fruits.

While the magnum format is now sold out, you can still buy 750ml bottles below.

Provençale rosé is often party juice. A conduit for the aspirational to pretend, for just a moment, that they are on the Côte d'Azur. As a result, it doesn't really need to be much chop. Yet there is good stuff out there. Here, a leading example laden with dried thyme, musk and peony.

While the magnum format is now sold out, you can still buy 750ml bottles below.

It becomes an effete exercise to compare New World wines to their plinth of inspiration in the Old, yet in this instance it is very hard to do otherwise. Burgundy-like scents of nougat, roasted hazelnut, truffle and stone fruits. Broad and flavoursome chardonnay from the San Andreas Fault.

While the magnum format is now sold out, you can still buy 750ml bottles below.