I was semi-comatose, suffering yet another hangover from hell when I heard a deep voice emanate from my flat- but not yet wide-screened nor digitally enhanced TV. It said, 'Martin! Heed these words. Repeat them to me in a sing-song voice and then spread them widely – as you would smear crunchy but organic and unsalted peanut butter over myriad slices of home-baked, unbleached wholemeal, buttered toast.' 'Hang on!' I muttered. 'The bloody TV hasn't worked since the time I tried to install my new multi-zone DVD player, the one that also plays MP3 files and has Dolby 5.1™ surround sound functionality.'

'Nevertheless, and be that as it may...' the voice interrupted, 'Crappy infotainment shows concerning food and drink are multiplying like the spores of deadly plagues of yore, contaminating the minds and bellies of those who gaze upon them. I bid you to go forth and deliver these laws to those with discriminating palates amongst you. But I also enjoin you to keep them secret from the scum of the Earth and other riff-raff!'

Here, nearly verbatim, are the bits I found scribbled on a sodden beer coaster when I fully awoke.

I. Thou shalt not frequent fast food outlets nor shalt ye dine in shopping mall food halls. The interior of a supermarket shall be as foreign and as mysterious to thee as are the workings of the electronic fuel injection system secreted within thine horseless carriage. Forsooth, thou must therefore cultivate a relationship with that dear little man, thy provedore, he whom shalt anticipate thine every need, and whom shalt look after thine own special dietary requirements.

II. In thy dwelling-place never shalt leftovers be seen on thy board, nor processed cheese, nor instant coffee, nor tea bags, nor dried pasta, nor margarine. For they are an abomination to thine stomach and will offendeth guests of superior taste.

III. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's domestic espresso machine. Yea! Even though it be the deluxe Gaggia with the built in bean grinder.

IV. Thou shalt never imbibe riesling from a Riedel Chardonnay vessel, nor burgundy from a Syrah chalice. Thou shalt however, sniff, swirl and sip every drop that passeth thine own lips, even unto Evian, or the lowliest quality of chlorinated tap water.

V. Wine that ith (whoops!) concealed from thine eyes, even inside a bag within a box, shalt never darken the steps at the entrance of thine abode, be it ever so humble. (Thine abode that is, – not thine chateau cardboard!)

VI. Thou shalt personally get to knoweth celebrity chefs and winemakers by the names of their first names and bow down unto them and droppeth said names to thine friends and acquaintances whenever appropriate. However, thou shalt never order anything from their costly menus without first thou asketh for a minor change... or two. (For it is told that so it is done in the gastronomic temples of the Wood that is called Holly.)

VII. Thou shalt occasionally describe to thine envious guests the liquid contents of thine subterranean, catacomb-like repository [Would that be a cellar? Ed.] down to the last firkin and amphora, and the current auction value thereof, unto the last dollar. (Though thou shalt be ever so discreet and duly modest whilst thou so doeth.)

VIII. Thou shalt drizzle only olive oil of the extra virginal kind on thy repast. And yet, be it ever so strange and seemingly contradictory, thine balsamic vinegar shalt be only that which is of the most ancient blend and origin. Moreover and likewise, ye shalt allow none but flaked sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to grace thine table.

IX. The bread that thou kneadest, bakest and breakest shall be sourdough rye, or a certified organic variation thereof. It followeth that thou shalt never defile thy platter with white sliced... even that which the commercial maker of loaves saieth is 'boosteth with the highest of fibres'.

X. Thou shalt slavishly follow the inspired words and sumptuary laws of chosen soothsayers liken unto Parker, Hay, Oliver, Dupleix. Even if such soothsaying receipts and reviews do sometimes so offendeth thine eyes, thy tastebuds and thy digestion that thou art driven perforce to shield thine vision, block thy nostrils with molten wax and tear out thine own tongue by its very roots.

Australian Pinot: An expensive lottery?

Over 10 years ago I wrote a column describing my disappointment with Australian pinot noir. 'Dilute raspberry cordial.' I generalised (as I am wont to do). Here we are in 2003 and my opinion hasn't changed all that much.

I regularly present a variety of current vintage commercial pinots, and other Australian reds, masked, to wine class students. In contrast with reds made from shiraz and cabernet sauvignon their comments on pinot inevitably include more negative reactions than positive, typically including, 'Light red colour. Brown around the rim. Not much fruit. Soft. Light tannins.' and similar.

After which I recommend that they try certain well-reviewed labels from various cool climate regions. Adding, lamely, 'But don't expect to pay less than $25 to get something you might like.' And 'Don't cellar them too long. In my experience, many suffer from premature senility and inconsistency of style. Think of it as an expensive, mystery lottery – you pay your money and you take your chances.'

What is it with Australian pinot noir? Many winemakers see a classy pinot as their clichéd 'Holy Grail'. Maybe they're not trying to make a Burgundy but I'd like to know what benchmark they do aspire to. Most have had as much luck with the Grail as did the Knights of the Round Table. Burgundy pinots (also damned expensive) tend to be darker and deeper than their Australian cousins. They offer velvety mouth-feel, and, instead of primary fruits, more of those secondary, savoury, almost meaty flavours. They don't exhibit signs of aged debility in their extreme youth and tend to cellar well.

When I buy a young Australian pinot I want a wine with good red colour and no tawny hues, typical varietal expression: strawberry and cherry characters for instance, a hint of wood and a light but integrated tannic texture. Too often I get something that is not quite a rosé but hardly what you'd call a red. And rarely cheaper than a good bottle of brandy or Scotch.

So what's the problem? Can't be poor winemaking – other Australian reds are up there with the world's best. Could it be climatic? Are we using the wrong mutant pinot noir clones? Are our winemaking techniques too technologically advanced for this wine style? If so, should pinot makers revert to traditional, old-world techniques?

Tastings
Queen Adelaide Chardonnay 2002 $7. 16.5/20

Australia's top selling white wine. Light yellow. Fruity bouquet. Soft round unwooded style with mild acidity.

Heggies Vineyard Eden Valley Viognier. $25. 18/20

Very pale, edge of green. Generous floral, toasty nose. Classy medium-bodied white, nice balance of spicy fruit, charred barrel and acid zest.

Gramp's Barossa Valley Grenache 2002. About $15. 17.5/20

Youthful crimson. Lifted plum and Turkish Delight nose. Soft palate, no noticeable oak, laden with sweet berries. Warm alcohol (14.5%) finish.

Maglieri of McLaren Vale Cabernet Sauvignon 2001. About $18. 17.5/20

Dark red to purple. Redcurrant jelly and significant oak aromas. Big dry red with assertive tannins. A tad rough around the edges now but will reward two and more years in the cellar.

Fox Creek Reserve Shiraz 2001. About $65. 18.5/20

McLaren Vale. Near opaque red to black. Rich berries, pepper and oak vanillin bouquet. Up front tannic astringency provides likeable chewy texture. The warm, concentrated fruit character shows slightly savoury undertones. Good cellaring proposition, needs hearty main course food accompaniment.

Rosemount Traditional Cabernet Sauvignon Merlot Petit Verdot 2001. About $25. 18.5/20

To be released on 1 August. McLaren Vale, Langhorne Creek. Impenetrable purple black. Aromatic, youthful, fruity and spicy nose. Extravagant and powerful red, jam-packed with sweet fruit and vanillin oak. Chewy tannic texture indicates excellent cellaring potential. Way too young to drink yet. Won the prestigious Jimmy Watson Trophy in 2002.

Seppelt St Peters Great Western Vineyard Shiraz 1999. Recommended price $45+. 18/20

Nose of warm berries and liquorice. Dryish, slightly closed on the palate at this stage – not as big as the '98. Nicely balanced with silky tannins and a pleasing persistent finish.

Majella Coonawarra Cabernet 2001. Around $30. 18.5/20

Blackcurrants, mint and eucalypt on the nose. Classic Coonawarra red showing earthy undertones and cool climate berry flavours that lead to an intense inky finish. Won the highly acclaimed Stodart Trophy in 2002.

Tamdhu Single Malt Scotch Whisky. About $37.

Brassy gold. Aromatic malt, light smokiness on the nose. Elegant, medium-bodied Scotch. Medium weighted palate shows sweet malt which continues to a long satisfying finish. Just a splash of water helps enhance its aromatic complexity. At the opposite end of the taste spectrum from smoky iodised styles like, for example, Laphroaig.