There's a line in 'Dockery and Son', one of Philip Larkin's most celebrated poems, where the jazz-loving misanthrope poses a characteristic question about procreation. 'Why did he think adding meant increase? To me it was dilution.' British supermarket buyers may not be aware of the poem, but where wine is concerned their views appear to mirror Larkin's. The overwhelming majority of wines sold in this country is what is known as varietals: made from a single, as opposed to a blend of different grapes.
The New World in particular has focused on a handful of stand-alone varieties - the vinous equivalent of the Magnificent Seven: Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Riesling, Merlot, Shiraz, Pinot Noir and Cabernet Sauvignon. This has made their wines as easy to understand as they are to drink. The French, by contrast, prefer to concentrate on a wine's origin, which is why you won't find the words Sauvignon Blanc on a bottle of Sancerre or Pinot Noir on a bottle of Gevrey-Chambertin. This can engender confusion. I still smile at the memory of the bloke I met at a dinner party, who told me he hated Chardonnay as he poured himself another glass of Grand Cru Chablis.
Many of the world's leading wines are made from single varieties, be it in the northern Rhône (Syrah), the Mosel Valley (Riesling), Burgundy (Chardonnay or Pinot Noir), Marlborough (Sauvignon Blanc) or the Napa Valley (Cabernet Sauvignon). Mind you, most New World countries allow producers to add up to 15 per cent of other varieties without stating it on the label. Cheap Chardonnay from, say, the United States or Australia could easily contain a dollop of a lesser variety, such as Colombard. This technique, described as 'the equivalent of putting sardines in your porridge' by one winemaker, is a loophole that allows wineries to cut costs.
Not all blended wines fall into this category, thank goodness. In fact, once you stop to think about it, they account for a lot of very fine bottles. A significant number of Europe's greatest wine regions - Rioja, the Douro Valley, the southern Rhône, Chianti, Champagne and Bordeaux - have based their success on combining two or more varieties. In some instances, it's a useful insurance policy against bad weather (grape varieties have different growth cycles), but blending also helps to produce wines that are much more than the sum of their parts.
None of these regions takes things quite as far as Chteauneuf-du-Pape, where no fewer than 13 varieties are permitted in a single red wine, but most winemakers appreciate the possibilities that blending affords them. This is particularly true of age-worthy reds, when the varieties are given the chance to marry and complexity is allowed to develop in barrel and bottle. Purists may disagree with me, but I'm convinced that some red grapes - Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon and Grenache are good examples - taste much better blended than they do in isolation. In fact, of the leading red varieties, only Pinot Noir, Syrah, Nebbiolo, Sangiovese and, at a push, Tempranillo work better on their tod.
Great blended white wines are harder to track down outside Champagne and Bordeaux, partly, I suspect, because of the worldwide success of Chardonnay, Riesling and Sauvignon Blanc. The purity of these wines can be lost, or if you prefer diluted, in a blend, which is why most wine hacks like varietal whites, but drink blended reds. Logic says that Philip Larkin should have been a committed white wine drinker, too. But I'm pretty sure he preferred whisky: single malts, no doubt.
Six of the best blended wines
My best buy 1998 Baron de Ley Rioja Reserva (£7.01, Asda)
You're much more likely to find Garnacha (Grenache) blended with Tempranillo in Rioja than Cabernet Sauvignon, but the 10% Cabernet in this elegant, harmonious, sweet cored, oak-aged red adds a touch of real class.
2002 Terra Organica Bonarda/Sangiovese (£4.99, Somerfield)
An unoaked 50/50 blend from Argentina that underlines the quality of the vintage in Gaucho land. Rich and well structured with enough tannin to partner a good steak and chunky flavours of plum and damson.
2002 Domaine de Caillaubert, Chardonnay/Sauvignon, Vin de Pays des Côtes de Gascogne (£6.49, Majestic)
One of the few examples of a Chardonnay/Sauvignon blend, this is one of my favourite quaffing whites at the moment, combining peachy Chardonnay ripeness with Sauvignon's gooseberry austerity.
2001 Labeye, Cuvée Guilhem, Minervois (£5.59, Oddbins)
A Syrah-based blend that shows what the Languedoc can achieve under £6, this is a fragrant, smoky, chocolate, blackberry and liquorice-scented red with an edge that's as wild as the landscape.
1997 Chateau Cantemerle, Haut-Médoc (£13.99, Sainsbury's)
The 1997 vintage in Bordeaux produced some very drinkable, even forward wines. And as the prices have started to fall, now is the time to buy them. This elegant, cigar box and cassis-like red is smooth, polished and very tasty.
1996 Bollinger Grande Année (£49.99, Safeway, Asda, Sainsbury's, Waitrose, Majestic, Unwins, Tesco, EH Booth, Oddbins)
This blend of 70% Pinot Noir and 30% Chardonnay is the best vintage Bolly since the mind-blowing 1990. This is a complex, characteristically powerful number with plenty of concentration.
