I often get asked for advice about which wine to drink with a particular kind of food. My reply is, ‘Drink what you enjoy, and enjoy what you drink.’ The idea of finding ‘the right wine’ puts off more people than it helps. There’s no such thing as the right wine and there’s certainly no such thing as the wrong wine.

Hundreds of years of making and drinking wine have given the populations of countries like France and Spain the instinct to pick a bottle that will flatter their food. ‘Mussels? A Muscadet or Picpoul would be good.’ ‘Lamb chops? Give me a Rioja, any red Rioja.’

Winemakers do get enthusiastic about recommending wine – usually one of their own – to accompany a meal, but I’ve never known them get stressed about it. After a tour of a winery in Burgundy and a discussion of his latest vintage, Bernard the winemaker laid on a lunch of terrine, saucisson and salad in a stone shed on the edge of the vineyard. Would I like a glass of wine with my meal? Oui, monsieur! At which point he took out three different bottles. One was old, two were young. One was light, two were more intense. Each was from a slightly different area and would have different flavours and textures.

‘Which would be best with the food?’ I asked.

He smiled and shrugged. ‘Which would you like to try? The food is less important than the guest.’

In Bernard’s view there was no ‘right’ wine for the occasion, only his pleasure in showing off a bottle, and mine in enjoying what he poured. (I chose a wine made from grapes grown in the vineyard we were standing in: Gevrey-Chambertin, Clos de la Justice, 2016. It was delicious.)

Having said all that, there are occasions where a combination of luck and knowledge brings glass and plate together in such a magical mouthful that the taste sensations remain vivid for years afterwards. I remember a grilled squid dish at a restaurant in Inverness, with a glass of white Rioja. The oaky wine emphasised the smokiness of the charred squid beautifully. That was around 2006, but I can still recall the joy of the combination. A couple of years later I was in Tuscany on a buying trip, and was served a steak of Chianina beef. It was grilled rare, over a fire of clippings from the vines. To accompany it, a powerful Chianti. By itself the wine might have seemed rough or acidic, but with the fat-marbled beef it was a stunning match.

I had one of those ‘2+2=5’ moments this week. The food could not have been simpler: cheese and crackers. To be exact it was Minger, a washed rind soft cheese made in Tain by Highland Fine Cheeses. As the name suggests, Minger is a strong-smelling cheese, due to its rind being ‘washed’ during maturation to encourage surface fermentation. Inside it’s gooey and luscious, with nutty, creamy flavours, and a savoury tang on the finish. The family of soft washed rind cheeses is a noble one, from Taleggio in Lombardy, to Epoisses in Burgundy, and Stinking Bishop in Gloucestershire. Minger can more than hold its head up in such company – even next to Munster, the extremely minging star cheese of Alsace.

We’d received a box of samples from an Argentinean winery, five reds and one white. I wondered if this dry, limey Riesling would be as enjoyable with a Scottish washed rind cheese as Alsace Riesling is with Munster. Only one way to find out. I sliced some Minger onto a couple of crackers, then popped and poured the wine.

It was a flavour explosion! In this case, 2+2=6.

There are many fine cheesemakers in Orkney and across Scotland. What makes Highland Fine Cheeses (HFC) unique is that they produce high quality cheese across a wide range of styles. Not just washed-rind Minger, but also tangy Blue Murder, buttery Caboc, creamy Morangie Brie and crumbly Tain Cheddar. And more!

Any one of them would mark out HFC as an excellent cheesemaker - but to maintain the quality across such diverse styles is a real achievement. A world class Highland enyterprise!

This diary appeared in The Orcadian on 12th April 2023. A new one appears weekly. I post them in this blog a few days after each newspaper appearance, with added illustrations., and occasional small corrections or additions

Diary of a Shopkeeper, 9th April