New wine labels will mean fewer great wines

In the not too distant future, Ireland will become the first country in the world to require all alcoholic drinks to carry a label warning of the health risks of consuming any of them. Not only that, the calorific value of each alcoholic beverage will have to be stated.

Commendable as it is to inform the public about the possible health implications of drinking, this legislation is a fine example of a complete lack of joined-up thinking.

There will, of course, be no problem for spirits and none for all but the most left-field brewers. Their products don’t change. They all pose a risk of various cancers and other diseases, but their alcoholic strength and calorific value remain constant.

The same goes for the world’s biggest producers of wine. Their output is calibrated in every single detail to ensure absolute homogeneity and consistency – that’s why such wines, while commercially hugely successful, are pretty boring after a while.

Consequence

All the rest of the world’s wine producers are at the mercy of weather and other variables. Every wine that they make will be different in terms of residual sugar – the fruit sugar that remains after fermentation – and precise alcohol content. Creating a label tailored to every single wine in every single vintage just for the Republic of Ireland is not just a big ask – it’s completely impractical.

Already, a medium-sized producer in Argentina, Catena (owned and run by a doctor, as it happens), has announced that the Irish market will not be worth the trouble. Others will follow as sure as night follows day. They won’t fret too much about it; even for small, very high quality wine producers, Ireland is not a significant buyer of such wines.

What this means is that the Irish consumer – especially the discriminating consumer who enjoys good wine – will be denied access to the most original, interesting, and contemplative wines, while those who enjoy big-name Prosecco and the likes of 19 Crimes or Blossom Hill will still be able to buy their favourites (ignoring the warnings if they so choose).

You could assume that this ludicrous situation has been engineered by the new puritans or simply by people who have not even begun to think through what they are demanding. You can be quite sure that the people responsible don’t have any interest in the fascinating world of wine; they are the equivalent of those who regard food purely as fuel.

So, it will be goodbye to wines like Foillard’s magnificent Morgon, the quirky reds from the Loire, the offbeat whites from Piemonte, the new wave stuff from the Cape, the boutique wines from mavericks in Ribeira Sacra, the vins jaunes, the best dry sherry. And so much more. That’s a very considerable reduction in the sum of national happiness. And to achieve what exactly?

Fine, go ahead and give warnings about alcohol and how it relates to health. State the alcohol by volume, which is mandatory now anyway. But for pity’s sake don’t require every wine to indicate its precise calorific content.

Of course, there are various kinds of wine consumer and there is no doubt that some abuse the stuff. But I’m willing to bet a substantial sum that they are abusing Prosecco, the cheaper New World brands, the usual highly commercial suspects.

Of course, we have a long and calamitous record of separating the acts of eating and drinking in Ireland. For more than a century, pints have been lowered while barely touching the tongue. Copious drinks have been “got in” before closing time.

This is where we differ from the French, where wine and food are inseparable. Many of us Irish will cheerfully drink on an empty stomach; our European neighbours wouldn’t dream of such a thing.

Licensing laws

Such is our dysfunctional relationship with alcohol that we still have ludicrous licensing laws. When I was last in England with the car, I decided to pick up a few bottles of sherry from Waitrose (the supermarket group that takes dry sherry very seriously and offers amazing value), but I was concerned that it would be very early in the morning when I’d be able to shop.

So I Googled the licensing situation in England and Wales only to find that if a shop is licensed to sell alcohol it may do so whenever it is open. In Ireland, you can’t buy alcohol before 10.30am on weekdays or 12.30pm on Sundays. If you need to bring a bottle to Sunday lunch, you will need to be very quick or get it the night before (but make sure it’s before 10pm).

My assumption is that the Sunday regulation dates from a time when there was a fear that making alcohol available in the morning would have a deleterious effect on Mass-going. Whatever the truth, these kinds of rules serve only to infantilise us and I am quite sure do not have any significant impact on alcohol abuse.

We can live with the silliness of the current licensing regulations. Wine lovers will find life after the labelling law comes into force very different. I predict a fine wine boom in Newry and other convenient parts of the UK.