For 30 years or more, from the 1970s to the beginning of this century, the invasion seemed unstoppable. Everywhere you went in the wine world, old stocks of vines, many unique to their area, were ripped up and replaced by a handful of what became international varieties. The big five – chardonnay, sauvignon blanc, cabernet sauvignon, merlot and shiraz/syrah – were the most aggressive, sweeping through vineyards.
When the winemakers of California set out to challenge on the world stage in the second half of the 20th century, they fixed their eyes on the country perceived to be the best at making the stuff: France. So they planted varieties from the top French regions – most notably Burgundy's chardonnay and Bordeaux's cabernet and merlot – and, rather than focusing on the region, as Europeans had done, displayed the names of varieties prominently on their labels. As sales from California and then the rest of the New World took off, and as punters began asking for wines by grape variety, struggling growers from the Old World began to follow suit.
The trouble, these producers believed, was that the magical effect on sales only really worked for that handful of varieties. If you were Portuguese, and you wanted to make one of these newfangled varietal wines, there was no point using fernão pires or bastardo since nobody outside your region had ever heard of them. Far better to go with the flow and plant chardonnay or cabernet, even if they weren't all that comfortable in the local climate and soil. At least buyers would spot something they recognised.
Slowly a backlash developed: in Europe, advocating native varieties became radically chic, the use of near-extinct grape varieties such as the Loire's romorantin an act of resistance. Pragmatism also played a role: if you were a new producer in New Zealand, you might have a better chance of making a splash in a small pond of grüner veltliners than in the more crowded one containing thousands of sauvignon blancs.
The result is that vine diversity is healthier than it has been in decades. The big five still dominate (sauvignon and chardonnay, either on their own or as part of a blend, account for more than 260 wines on Tesco.com, the next biggest white grape, sémillon, has just 37)but the list of well-made alternatives has expanded rapidly.
The best varieties have their own distinct character. If you like the weight, clarity and complexity of good chardonnay, you'll love the great white Galician hope, godello. Fans of cabernet may feel an affinity for the sturdy structure and perfumed, dark fruit in Portugal's touriga nacional. Sauvignon blanc lovers can find their verdant refreshment in Mediterranean vermentino, and more tropical tones in the gros manseng of southwest France. Syrah/shiraz drinkers can get some of its peppery spiciness in Austrian zweigelt ; and many examples of the Sicilian nerello mascalese have something in their fragrance and texture that brings to mind pinot noir.
Of course, obscurity is no more reliable an indication of quality than popularity. But while many rarities may not be capable of the same levels of greatness as the best wines made from international varieties, I'd rather have a good example of bastardo than yet another mediocre, bastardised cabernet.
Six of the best local grapes
St Tamas Mád Dry Furmint Tokaji, Hungary 2012
(from £13.99, The Solent Cellar; Worth Brothers)
Furmint, best-known for its role in the classic sweet wines of Tokaji, also makes for some excellent, dry (in this case just off-dry) whites in Hungary's vastly improved post-Communist wine scene, as this headily peachy, rich but fluent example proves.
Vesevo Beneventano Aglianico, Campania Italy 2010
(from £10.45, Liberty Wines Rannoch Scott Wines; Nickolls & Perks; Valvona & Crolla)
Though the variety is only just starting to creep into UK supermarkets, aglianico is highly regarded in Italy, where the paradoxical mix of structural heft and aromatic refinement in wines like this draws approving comparisons with the much pricier reds made from nebbiolo at the opposite end of the country in Barolo.
Luis Pato Vinhas Velhas Tinto, Bairrada, Portugal 2010
(£19.95, Corks Out; Philglas & Swiggot)
Portugal is second only to Italy for diversity of native varieties, and Baga, from the central region of Bairrada, is one of several now showing its potential. It can be rough, tough and rustic, but in the skilled hands of Luis Pato, this red is pinot noir-like in its cherry-scented silkiness.
Domaine du Cros Lo Sang del Pais, Marcillac, France
2012 (From £7.95, Les Caves de Pyrene; The Wine Society; Corks of Cotham; Joseph Barnes; Bottle Apostle)
The fragmented patchwork of appellations in France's southwest is home to an electic range of varieties rarely seen elsewhere in the world. From the tiny Marcillac appellation, this red uses mansois (aka fer servadou) for a crunchy, spicy red-fruited thirst-quencher.
Semeli Feast White Moscofiliero, Greece 2012
(£8.50, Oddbins)
Another trove of the indigenous, Greek wine has never quite caught on in the UK. But wines such as this evocatively aromatic dry white made from moscofiliero, with its notes of white flowers and exotic fruit and its crisp, zesty palate, is a good alternative to sauvignon blanc.
Prince Stirbey Tamaiosa Romaneasca Sec, Romania 2012
(£9.50, The Wine Society)
According to the Wine Society, the Romanian native tamaiosa romanesca is part of the muscat family of grapes, and, with its floral-grapey lift and subtle pink grapefruit tang, this distinctive dry white is comparable in quality to dry muscats from Alsace.
