Like other distinctly 1980s food and drink brands – Ice Magic, Cabana chocolate bars, Hofmeister lager – I’d assumed that the once all-conquering Sainsbury’s own-label Bulgarian cabernet sauvignon had died a quiet death at some point in the past 10 years. What had been, at the height of its 1980s popularity, the single biggest-selling wine in the UK, was now, I thought, no more than a piece of nostalgia
After all, the fall from grace of the wine industries in both Bulgaria and its fellow late Soviet-era export success, Romania, had been as sad as it was spectacular and, in retrospect, inevitable. As late as the mid-1990s, the Bulgarians were selling more than 50m bottles of wine a year in the UK, with the Romanians, with their budget pinot noirs, not far behind. By the time I made my first trip as a wine journalist to Bulgaria in the early-2000s, however, both were selling less than a tenth of that. The reasons why were evident throughout that trip. During the day, I was shown a procession of near-derelict vineyards and unkempt, eerily quiet winemaking facilities (it was hard to call these grimly utilitarian buildings “wineries”). In the evening, two doleful Bulgarian wine exporters detailed the difficulties facing winemakers both before and after the end of Communism: corruption; the haphazard redistribution of vineyard land to private owners with no wine-making experience; an absence of properly trained local winemakers; a general absence of money.
The mood was bleak; I have yet to go on a more downbeat wine trip. But there were already the beginnings of a recovery thanks to entrepreneurial winemakers who were aware that parts of Bulgaria and Romania had the climate and soils to make high quality wine and at considerably lower cost than elsewhere in Europe. They were also conscious that both countries were likely to join the EU, saw an opportunity and began to embark on the complicated process of buying up vineyard land. The investors were an exotic cast that included Italian textile magnate Edoardo Miroglio (whose eponymous set-up in Bulgaria’s Thracian Valley joins Piedmont’s Tenuta Carretta in his family’s wine portfolio), a German-born, Bordeaux-based aristocrat, Count Stephan von Neipperg (owner of top St-Emilion Château Canon La Gaffelière among others, and partner in the Enira project in Bulgaria’s Bessa Valley), and the British couple Philip and Elvira Cox (who own and run the large Romanian Cramele Recas winery). Their projects and wines may be very different in scale and ambition but collectively, their investment and experience seems to have flicked a switch in both countries.
In the decade since there’s been a flood of imaginative new ventures, the sort of individualistic, small-scale producers that would never have been possible in the Soviet era. I’m thinking of returning exiles such as Romanian royal Baroness Ileana Kripp-Costinescu, who, with her German husband, Baron Jacob Kripp (a couple straight out of The Grand Budapest Hotel), has revived her family’s 300-year-old Prince Stirbey estate in the Transylvanian Alps. Then there are maverick small-producers such as Ogi Tcvetanov and Adrianna Serebrinova, who have transformed a former state-run Bulgarian operation into a small-scale delight at Borovitza, or the New Zealand and Austrian-trained Petar Georgiev, the talented winemaker at creative new Bulgarian producer, Ross-Idi.
Not everything these producers or their peers make is outstanding, far from it. And with the possible exception of Cramele Recas (and its fellow British-affiliated producer, Halewood Romania) I don’t expect any of them to approach the sales of the 1980s. But retailers are much more willing to list wines from this part of the world than they have been in years – and that in itself is a step forward after the dark days of the 1990s and 2000s. And the more new-wave Bulgarian and Romanian producers I taste the more I’m convinced these countries are going to be serious players in years to come. That, you could say, is the future. If you want a taste of the past, Sainsbury’s, while not exactly enthusiastic about it, assures me £4.75 will still buy you a bottle of so-so Bulgarian Cabernet in 488 of its stores.
Six of the best eastern European wines
Edoardo Miroglio Soli Pinot Noir, Nova Zagora 2011 (from £9.95, Swig.co.uk, The Wine Society; Roberson Wine)
Made at an Italian-owned winery by an Italian winemaker who used to work with top barolo producer Luca Sandrone, this is exceptionally good value pinot noir: succulently red fruited, silky soft, sweetly earthy and graceful.
Sant’Ilia Cabernet Sauvignon/Cabernet Franc/Melnik, Elenovo, Thracian Lowlands, Bulgaria 2012 (£8.99, Waitrose)
Bulgaria made its name with its great value take on Bordeaux-style reds. a little of the local melnik along with the two cabernets, this appealingly fresh, crunchy blend, with its blackcurrant and mint leaf, proves it still has the knack.
Cramele Recas Frunza Pinot Noir, Banat, Romania 2013 (£7, Oddbins)
Like the Bulgarians with cabernet, the Romanians have been doing budget pinots for years, and these days Cramele Recas are behind many of the most appetising examples. They may not be Burgundy-complex, but this is a vibrant juicy, rhubarb-and-strawberry lighter red for salmon.
Prince Stirbey Tamaioasa Romaneasca Sec 2013 (£9.95, The Wine Society)
Tamaioasa romaneasca is, according to the Wine Society, a Romanian relative of muscat, and there is a sense of that variety’s floral grapey charm in this dry white, which, combined with a fluent, spring stream freshness, makes for an irresistibly airy, refreshing spring-into-summer white.
Borovitza Bella Rada, Bulgaria 2011 (£13.95, Berry Bros and Rudd)
Rikatskeli has begun to get a following in the UK through the amphora-aged wines of Georgia, where the white grape variety originates. This dry Bulgarian take is just as interesting: full of pithy lemon and grapefruit but topped with a subtly honeyed character.
Bessa Valley Enira Estate Red, Bulgaria 2009 (£11.99, Ocado)
From St-Emilion star Stephan von Neipperg’s impressive Bulgarian project, a merlot-led Bordeaux-style red that balances creamy vanilla oak and ripe plum and blackcurrant fruit. Look out, too, for Enira’s reserve bottlings, such as the very serious BV 2009 (£37.50, hedonism.co.uk)
• This article was amended on 19 March 2015 to correct the spelling of Stephan von Neipperg’s name.