My mother and step-father had this in their wine cupboard, I insisted we try it. Perhaps that was my first mistake.

Coteaux du Layon Beaulieu 1974, Les Caves de la Loire
Hell's bells, this smells like a mixture of glue and paint-stripper. Not entirely attractive, if we are honest. That being said, for a 34 year old wine it has a degree of freshness which is quite amazing; not nice admittedly, but amazing that it is not completely oxidised. Oh dear, the palate is really quite repulsive, not oxidised or shagged out, but just deeply nasty with far too many weird and chemical flavours. I have to say, it is amazing a wine this bad has aged so well. It is horrible, for sure, but it could be so very much worse. I will not be finishing off the glass, but I find myself being strangely impressed that it was not immediately emetic.

This is even better than the 1999 I popped recently, and that was a screamingly good bottle of wine. Papa Verset is greatly missed.

Cornas 1998, Noel Verset
A heady, rich nose of dark fruit and leather. There is a hint of stemminess to this, but it fits perfectly with the ripe fruit and earthy complexity. This is hilariously classy, oozing with style from every pore. Serious complexity on the nose which is utterly delightful. The palate is as pleasing as a Paul Smith suit: highly refined. The Cornas tannins are present but ripe and attractive. The ripe fruit is lovely, as is the earthiness. It is very long and the complexity of the finish charms the tits off me. This is a truly top banana bottle of Cornas, which was an incredible bargain from Byrne's. Fine wine does not come any cheaper.

We've gone on a trip to Oxford to see the Inspires gallery's exhibition of Sarah-Jane Selwood ceramics. Not much of an exhibition, as it turns out, a sum total of five pieces on display. We are told she is not making as much these days because she is busy dropping sprogs. We scored the most distinctive and beautiful piece. It is a polished stoneware bowl called 'triple inversion'. It looks like this:

The polished stoneware feels amazing; it has the texture of a pebble on a beach which has been worn to smoothness by the sea.

Lafarge makes wonderful Volnay, and Volnay can be terribly beautiful. Some journalists have commented that Lafarge makes inconsistent wines, but I feel they make these comments because they don't understand the ageing profile of Burgundy. It is not always time to drink Burgundy, sometimes you need to wait. This was another remarkable bargain from Bryne's in Clitheroe.

Volnay "Vendanges Selectionees" 2002, Domaine Michel Lafarge
A charming, scented nose of strawberry and cherry fruit; this smells highly attractive. The fruit is very pure and there is a subtle earthiness to it which adds to its complexity. The palate is soft and fruity, with a reasonable amount of acidity to it which makes the fruit bright and the wine lively. For a village wine this has a lot of class, style and beauty. It is drinking very well now, but has a good future ahead of it is you can be arsed to cellar it for 5-or-so years. Lovely Volnay.

When I was last chatting to my chums Jeremy and Gernot about my trip to Alsace they suggested that they could not see the point of Pinot Gris. I couldn't agree less. OK, if you get a flabby, sugar-laced offering from someone like Zind-Humbrecht it can be difficult to match with food; indeed I'd go as far as saying Pinot Gris like that are bloody hard to drink. However, drier, more balanced offerings with good acidity can match food very well. This bottle will slip down a treat with the chicken in cider I am cooking. It has weight, but lively acidity and minerality; a good match for the rich flavours in the food. I do agree that Alsace Riesling is often the way forward, but to dismiss Pinot Gris is a mistake; pleasure takes many forms.

Pinot Gris Grand Cru Brand 2006, Domaine Albert Boxler
A lovely, charming nose of ripe, peachy fruit with a backbone of good minerality. This smells fleshy and very attractive, which a good measure of complexity. The palate is basically dry, with plenty of pleasing fruit, very good acidity for a wine of this scale and damned-good vineyard character. The Brand Grand Cru is a top site for Pinot Gris, and Jean Boxler has extracted the very best quality from it for this wine. Of course, it needs drinking within the next 18 months or so; Pinot Gris doesn't age. I suppose if that was the point the Jeremy and Gernot were trying to make I'd have to agree, but I don't think the point of a wine rests with its longevity.

Starting on 27 September there is a Sarah-Jane Selwood exhibition at the Inspires gallery in Oxford. This gallery opened after I moved out of Oxford, so I cannot guarantee the quality of it. However, I'll be visiting after lunch on the day it opens, just to look at her latest work rather than necessarily buy anything. I hope there is plenty of good stuff to fondle.

When I tried this chez Pibarnon the winemaker was highly amused that I said it was sexy. It is sexy, I tell you!

Bandol 2001, Chateau de Pibarnon
A rich, heady nose of ripe, complex fruit. This is packed with style, and is really voluptuous on the nose; deeply, deeply lovely. I am really charmed by this; it may be a bit on the big side but it does not lack finesse or class. The palate has a truly lovely tannic structure, which frames the beautiful fruit in a really pleasing way. This is really too young to be drinking, but by arse does it put a smile on my face. Tits Bandol, man, with not even the merest hint of arseholes. Yeah, power up!

I thought I may as well write up one of tonight's wines as I decant it so I don't have to disappear in front of the computer for quite so long when my guests arrive. It is always a treat to drink Noel 'Papa' Verset's Cornas.

Cornas 1999, Noel Verset
A rich, ripe nose of dark fruit with a hint of stemminess. There is some real earthy complexity to the nose, which is highly attractive. The overall impression of the nose is that it is multi-dimensional and deeply compelling. This is serious kit. The palate has some slightly rustic Cornas tannins, but generally is as smooth as silk socks and as refined as super-unleaded. Really ripe fruit, yet not in the slightest bit over-blown. This has quite a lot of class and wonderful harmony; I am finding it highly enjoyable. This is up for drinking now (with great pleasure), and I am sure it will continue to provide smiles for another five or more years if you have the cellaring capability. To think that a wine this desirable was sitting on Byrne's shelf for a mere fifteen notes; a super bargain.

I was in Lancashire last weekend for a wedding to two lovely friends of mine. We paid a visit to the amusingly named town of Clitheroe to go to the excellent wine merchant D. Byrne. It was filled with an embarrassment of riches which were generally very reasonably priced. My chum Jeremy Seysses saw this wine on the shelf and told me I should buy it as it had rave reviews from some American journalists. It was only £13 so I thought why not? When I had paid I noticed it was 16.5% alcohol and so I challenged Jeremy, who I know to be a lover of beautiful wines, on why he had recommended lighter-fuel for me try. He came clean and said he knew I would hate it, but he likes to read my torrents of invective about horrible wines. He had knowingly got me to buy despicable wine. Thanks, Jeremy, thanks a bunch. So do I hate it? Read on...

Shiraz "The Boxer" 2006, Mollydooker
By arse, I've smelled less confected jam than this. This smells of alcohol, wood and jammy fruit; it is depressingly simple and horrifically overblown. Smelling this for more than a couple of seconds burns my nose. There is nothing even remotely attractive about its aromas. No. Oh no. Really, no. For fuck's sake, the palate is truly horrible. Sweet, flabby, painfully alcoholic; how can people like shit like this? It is vile filth. OK, if you want monster-get-pissed-fast, soupy, unbalanced, sweet mouthwash, this will do. If you think wine should have redeeming qualities like elegance, style and, let us be honest, drinkability, you'll find this as offensive as I am as I try to choke back enough to write this tasting note.

Which leaves us wondering what sort of wine journalism recommends this kind of crap. I am reminded of how I used to chose girlfriends whilst at university. Tall or short, beautiful or ugly, clever or stupid, it didn't matter to me as long as they had big tits. That was all that mattered - huge bouncers. Of course, this is a terrible way of viewing women, just as viewing over-ripe monstrosities like this as the pinnacle of wine-making is a shameful view of wine. Complexity, style and balance are to be applauded, and simple, booze-tastic, beasts are to be pilloried. I am disgusted to think that someone could recommend something as shamefully crap as this.

Picking the best bottle I own is more problematic than deciding that Mambourg from Deiss is horrible; what constitutes the best?

Heroic formats can be compelling. I have a jeroboam of Pommard Premier Cru Clos des Epeneaux 1999 which is just a hilarious thing to own. It will provide a lot of pleasure on a dim and distant birthday celebration.

Rarity may also lead one to cherish a bottle. I have a magnum of Nuits Saint Georges Premier Cru aux Thorey 2005 from Domaine Dujac. This was the only vintage of this wine Dujac made, so it is as rare as hen's teeth. Having it in a magnum is particularly pleasing.

The most compelling reason to choose a favourite wine is probably sheer quality. I have a bit of a thing for 2001 red Burgundy and have some shit-hot bottles from this vintage. Domaine Dujac Clos Saint Denis and Bonnes Mares are two of the best Dujac wines I've been lucky enough to try. I tell you, man, they are buttock-bitingly good. My only bottle of Domaine de la Romanee Conti wine, La Tache, comes from this vintage. I am yet to taste it, so whilst I am convinced it will be top bunny, I cannot really call it my favourite wine.

Which brings me to Musigny 2001 from Freddie Mugnier. I've had some mind-bendingly good Musigny from M. Mugnier, the 1999 and 2005 were utterly, utterly beautiful and charged with charm and complexity. However the 2001 had an extra dimension of unadulterated loveliness, which left me deeply moved. I've only got one bottle of this wine which will cause much thought about when to crack it open, but it is, as far as I am concerned, the best wine I own.

In the early nineties Jean-Michel Deiss was making spell-binding, exciting, thrilling Riesling; I snapped up all I could find and afford. Then, for some presumably psychotic reason, he decided that Riesling wasn't good enough on its own. He turned his interest to making field blends of different grape varieties, picking, fermenting and ageing them together. These wines have always been repulsively disgusting; they have confused flavours and unsatisfactory ageing profiles. They are also distractingly laced with residual sugar. I feel Jean-Michel has let down all the fans of his very best wines by producing such filth.

At my last tasting chez Deiss I hated every wine we tried, and I have to say I didn't take to the man himself largely because of the crap he spewed justifying his bonkers wine-making philosophy. One of the wines we tried was notably horrible, the 2000 Mambourg Grand Cru blend. It was oxidised and lacking any form of character that one would hope to be charmed by. Deiss himself claimed that this was the best wine he had ever made. Totally bonkers, I tell you. But not as hat-stand as me, it turns out. When I saw a bottle of this on a wine merchant's shelf I committed an act of pure insanity and purchased it.

I blame this screamingly butt-hole-crazy action on a residual degree of respect for M. Deiss; after all he had made some of the best Alsace Riesling I have had. But this is not really a good enough excuse. I'd tried the wine and it was mind-bendingly horrible. I have to stand up and say I made a horrific mistake and thrown good money away. I am worthy only of mockery for having purchased this shameful travesty of a wine. I'll age the wine as long as Deiss said it would last (15-20 years! Ha! What a twat) and pour it with the knowledge that I'll have opened and finally got rid of the worst bottle of wine I will ever own.