May’s selection of wines drunk at home include a number which even I drink rarely, although it’s not only the more obscure among them to which that applies. We kick off Part One with a white Rioja. I’m behind the curve on the excitement you can find there. Next, a Nepalese wine which you’ll be lucky to find outside of Nepal so you’ll need to take my word for it, so to speak. Less rare in my house, a beautiful sunset Burgenlander, an exciting Savoie, a majestic Loire Chenin and, to finish the first half case, a red from Geneva. Suitably wide-worldy, I hope. Six more to follow in due course, to make twelve wines of the month from eleven different regions.

Rioja Alavesa Blanco 2021, Bodega Amaren (Rioja, Spain)

Bodega Amaren is part of the large holdings of the Luis Cañas family of wines. The wine we are drinking now is one of the new-wave of bottlings from individual sub-regions withing the Rioja appellation (Vinos de Zona), in this case, Alavesa. Situated north of the Ebro, it has a rich history, both literally, and in wine terms for smaller family-run estates, and many vineyards are situated at altitude. Fresher conditions can favour elegant and fresh white wines.

It is also worth noting that Alavesa in particular has become a popular destination for Spanish wine tourism. Of course, it boasts a selection of stunning winery architecture, both traditional and super-modern, but now there’s also a well-designed regional wine route, and Laguardia is fast becoming a destination for wine lovers who want a bit of history and gourmet food.

Although this bottling is described as a “limited edition” they still appear to have made 21,000 bottles. It’s a blend of Viura, Malvasia and Tempranillo Blanco, aged in a mix of oak (80% new) and concrete tanks for ten months with regular bâtonnage. The vines are all old, some more than 100 years old, situated at up to 550 masl, around nearby villages Samaniego and Leza. “Low intervention” viticulture is practised.

So, what’s it like? Actually, really good. Definitely it gives off a vibe of a wine of place, but also very tasty. Fresh citrus turns quite tropical on the fruit spectrum. The palate has a chalk-dust texture, stone fruit and a bit of salinity, and juicy with it. With 13.5% abv and new oak it still manages to taste fresh. That new oak seems integrated, though you might guess it was vinified this way. I actually found this bottle quite gorgeous, enough to make me want to buy some more White Rioja.

This cost £28 at Smith & Gertrude Portobello. The importer is Alliance Wine.

Rose Koshu 2024, Pataleban Vineyard Winery (Kathmandu Valley, Nepal)

Much of the technical expertise going into Pataleban today comes from Switzerland and Germany, but the winery and vineyards were originally set up with input from Japan. This is why, alongside a range of European vinifera varieties, there are several hybrids you might find planted in Japan, and Koshu, which was once thought to be a vinifera species but now considered such a hybrid (between vitis vinifera and one or more East Asian vitis species).

For any reasonably adventurous wine obsessive in the UK, Koshu may be the only grape from Japan that they know. There are plenty more, and Japan’s wine scene is thriving now, but it seems like the UK is no longer the place it was…where you could taste wine from almost anywhere in the world.

Nepal’s only commercial producer of grape wine has vineyards at Kewalpur (where the winery is located), Kaule and Ghiring, in the Kathmandu Valley not far from the capital (relatively, just 16km to the resort, but the traffic is always terrible). There are about 40 acres of vines in total (c18.2 ha), planted at between 750 to 1,600 masl. The monsoon is the greatest enemy of viticulture in the Kathmandu Valley, but the altitude of the plantings does much to negate the humidity one might otherwise expect. The vines are trained high and netted for birds, which would otherwise strip the vines of fruit.

This wine is so fruity. Certainly the 2024 is the best vintage of Pataleban Koshu I remember tasting, but the fresh new vintage might help. I had a bottle of this in Nepal last November, but this suitcase bottle seemed even better. Mid-pink in colour (Koshu is most often vinified “white” in Japan, but like Pinot Gris, it is a pink-skinned grape), it has a nice soft mouthfeel and the fruitiness of a boiled sweet. Unlikely as it sounds, that’s a compliment. I’m referring to its juiciness. I’d say there is a little residual sugar but fresh acidity to balance it.

It would be easy to present this as just another weird wine I picked up along the road, but I really like it. I wish I could have a case to share around. As I haven’t, you’ll need to head to Nepal to prove me wrong.

The Pataleban Vineyard Resort at Chisapani has a nice hotel, set on a forested hillside, away from Kathmandu’s urban buzz and pollution. On a clear day the mountain views are spectacular and there are nice forest walks. Here you will find a smaller vineyard with lots of hybrids. The winery itself, and the main vineyards are further down the valley. Tours and tastings are available. Touring the vineyard and winery at Kewalpur, the bus or car usually leaves from the resort after breakfast.

A range of wine stores in Kathmandu sell Pataleban’s wines, although storage is not always uniformly cool. Don’t expect fine wine, but what these guys are doing in Nepal is highly creditable and I know that the wines will get better and better, if the economics and bureaucracy of making wine in Nepal allows it.

Abendrot 2022, Weingut Koppitsch (Burgenland, Austria)

It has been a while since I’ve drunk a Koppitsch wine, around a year, I think. Long a favoured producer for me, at Neusiedl am See on the northern edge of the Neusiedlersee, I also have a kind of connection with this wine. Abendrot translates as both sunset and afterglow, bringing to mind two pieces of music (one classical and one rock) which are special to me and have been for many decades.

In this particular case we have a gently pale red wine which fits its name perfectly. Alex and Maria have blended red and white grapes (Welschrieslng, Rosenmuskateller, Chardonnay, Pinot Blanc, St Laurent, Blaufränkisch and a touch of Syrah) from the limestone Neuberg above the lake. Farming and winemaking are biodynamic and low intervention. The couple, who have a deep connection with nature, are creating a range of lovely natural wines, of which this is certainly one.

As you might expect from a blend of so many varieties, it would be hard to single out specific ones. Overall, I have the impression of raspberries with a grapefruit and lime acidity. I was also getting lingonberry, but in my defence, I did have a jar of Ikea’s lingonberry jam on the go at the time of drinking (I’m a secret fan, even more so of their cloudberry, when trying to eke out the home-made stuff).

I think it’s a gorgeous, sensuous, wine…even if I am biased. £31 from Communiqué Wines (Stockbridge, Edinburgh), imported by Roland Wines.

Veronnet 2020, Domaine Corentin Houillon (Savoie, France)

Corentin Houillon is a member of the family famous for a couple of estates in the Jura. He worked for Stéphane Tissot up there, and also for Dominique Derain, before making wine in his wife’s native Switzerland. He now farms five hectares at Chautagne, on glacial terrain surrounded by forest. 2020 is only his second vintage here, at Serrièes-en-Chautagne (too recent to appear in Wink Lorch’s seminal Wines of the French Alps). Chautagne is located north of the Lac du Bourget and just south of the once well-known sparkling wine enclave of Seyssel.

“Veronnet” is Gamay, or alternatively Mondeuse depending on whose description you read, fermented for 21 days, 40% as whole berries. It’s a natural wine with no added sulphur. The bouquet is gently fruity, though the palate has a touch of voluptuousness, balanced by a little grippiness and texture. It is both an exciting wine and maybe a little unique for Gamay too (I have to admit, it does speak Mondeuse to me, and usually Gamay is not a difficult grape variety to identify). I’ve not said a lot about it, but it’s the wine’s simplicity that is key to its attraction for me. Corentin Houillon, famous family name or not, is clearly a vigneron to watch.

Purchased directly from importer, Newcomer Wines, this retails for £35. If you definitively know what it is made from, please do tell us.

Saumur Blanc “Les Salles Martin” 2018, Antoine Sanzay (Loire, France)

Antoine joined this six-generation Saumur estate in 1999, and has eleven hectares of vines at Varrains, just two varieties: Chenin Blanc and Cabernet Franc. It was previously a typical farm of polyculture, where grape growing was just one element of the ecosystem. Those grapes went to the local co-op.

Antoine began through experimentation, his father and grandfather both having passed away when he was a mere ten years old. That said, those who mentored him as a young man read like Loire royalty (they include Guy Bossard, Bernard Baudry and the Foucault brothers). Now he is established as one of the best producers in Saumur/Saumur Champigny, and his wines have the advantage of not costing the prices asked by some other well-known domaines in the region.

Les Salles Martin is a Chenin Blanc from a single site of this name, 1.16 ha on limestone. The vines are quite young after replanting, maybe seven years old. Ageing is fairly traditional, in a mix of older barrique and foudre, for 18 months on lees. Antoine follows organic practices and his wines are very much low intervention.

The colour is a burnished pale gold with legs galore down the sides of the glass (abv here is 14%). The bouquet is like a field of hay with hints of ripe apple, the palate is rich, almost oily, but the balance is perfect. There’s great tension provided by good acids. The result is a steeliness and characteristics I’ve seen described by others as “deep minerality” and “flinty”. It’s a lovely, typical, Chenin. Classy!

£34 from The Solent Cellar. It seems to be out of stock at the moment, but this is a retailer with a new-found interest in the Loire so I hope they get more in. The importer is Carte Blanche Wines.

Prince des Vignes 2019, Christian Guyot (Geneva, Switzerland)

I’m always keen to drink Swiss wine, largely because it is either so hard to find in the UK, or so expensive when I do have access to it. That is not really the fault of those intrepid importers, like Alpine Wines, who do try to infiltrate the British market, one which I would once have said shows a cultural preference for cheap wine, but now will probably admit that most people just can’t afford them.

Christian Guyot is based at Bernex, one of the wine villages, along with Dardagny and Satigny, which are located to the west of the city of Geneva, on the Rhône’s left bank. He’s been farming here since 2008 and makes a dozen cuvées from a range of international varieties alongside new PIWIs (modern hybrids designed to combat various diseases or temperatures).

One of the PIWI varieties Christian has planted is Divico, of interest to me because it is one of the vines I’m giving a rather optimistic “go” up here in sunny Scotland. In some ways sadly, this wine is not made from Divico, largely because I’m yet to taste a wine made from this variety. This is in fact a varietal Merlot, from a single parcel at Bernex. It is aged on lees in a mix of 450- and 500-litre oak for 22 months, after an initial four-day cold soak and eight days in small vats. Long ageing in oak appears to be a thing at this estate.

At almost six years the wine is still fairly structured, but also expressive with plenty of concentrated darker fruits. It is not untypical of a wine made from low yields of fruit, unfiltered and knocking out 14% abv. It is impressive in what one used to call a “modern” way, once, where the power has not yet been dialled back. Nevertheless, impressive it is, and enjoyable too, especially with food. Definitely one for a juicy steak. I liked it. I liked the heavy bottle less.

This bottle was a gift, the second bottle out of the six which flew in from Geneva in April. There you might pay around 30CHF (£27), which only goes to show that Swiss wine prices in the UK are in good part the fault of our wine duty and tax regime. If a good range of Swiss wines were available here for £30 it might be a game changer. More usually, prices for all but generic Chasselas start at £40-£50 and climb swiftly upwards.