Alcohol has never been a significant feature of everyday Jewish life, whether it be in the Diaspora or in Israel itself – although since the mass Russian migration to Israel 20 years ago vodka has almost advanced to be the national drink! Coming from a virtually alcohol-free household, the attractions of the grape or the grain were far outstripped by Coca Cola or a nice pot of tea! Wine was produced only on Rosh Hashanah or Pesach, and even then it was that ghastly Palwin stuff that tasted more like sugared medicine.

Once I was old enough to go to a pub I found I hated the taste of beer, was indifferent to wine, but did come to quite enjoy whisky and brandy. This penchant was fuelled by my career as an on-course racing journalist as in the Press Room at many a racecourse in the north of England a selection of alcoholic beverages would invariably have been laid on by the racecourse management (along with a few sarnies and the occasional Lancashire hotpot), in order to ensure that nothing unnecessarily untoward might be reported about the day’s proceedings.

Sometimes only four or five hacks would turn up, and at the end of the day we would have a mini-raffle to see who would get what to take home. Whenever my name came out first I would invariably plump for the whisky. Champagne became another popular choice of mine when covering the showcase meetings like York, Chester or Doncaster, but I steered clear of the beer and the wine. I soon found myself with an enviable home drinks cabinet, a collection that was added to on a regular basis on almost every Scottish tour I enjoyed whilst with the Press Association. Driving (sometimes alone) through back roads in the border country or Grampian areas, there would often be a small sign advertising a local distillery. If I had the time, I would make a detour and sample the hooch, often coming home with a bottle or two as a keepsake.

Despite all the above though, I was no more than an occasional drinker. That drinking habit became almost extinct after I got ‘wasted’ at my 30th birthday party and have never felt quite so rough as I did when eventually I managed to separate my eyelids sometime the following afternoon. To make matters worse, I was due to be doing a gig with my band that very evening and by 9pm was still unable to move from my pit. Dragged to a cold shower by a flatmate and minutes later poured into the back seat of my guitarist’s car, I recall little of the performance, other than anecdotal evidence that suggests I played better than I ever have before or since! Therein lies the lesson.

Fast forward to my move to Israel in 2007 and to a part of the country famous for its wine. The area around Zichron Yaakov is often referred to in tourist handbooks as ‘Little Tuscany’; beautiful views across the Med, green forests, and lots of wineries. The Carmel winery is in the centre of town, a number of small boutique wineries occupy sites around the main street, local cafes overflow with all sorts of different produce from Zichron wineries, as well as from Binyamina wines, Tishbi and many, many more.

It seemed rather bad manners not to at least go on a guided tour or two and sample the goods (so to speak), and ever so slowly I’ve found myself beginning to develop a taste for the grape. That interested has been heightened somewhat of late as I have a good friend who produces his own wine from vines harvested from the ‘foothills’ of the Golan. Paz and I had dinner with him and his wife last week, and by hell he is turning out some seriously good stuff.

Adjacent to his home is a brewing shed that reminds me of one of those southern states moonshine labs. It’s all very scientific. Everything must be hermetically sealed, kept at the right temperature, tested on a regular basis (I’ve offered myself as the guinea pig for that job), and treated with loving care. He worked like a donkey to harvest the grapes and have them pressed, but the results speak for themselves. Remember the name Bar Maor – there will be something very special in any bottle carrying his name in years to come.

When you think of good wine you automatically focus on Italy, France, South Africa, Australia, Chile and various other locations around the globe, but Israel is not just producing good wine in my uneducated opinion, it’s being taken very seriously now by international experts. Only a few months ago, the leading international competition, the Decanter World Wine Awards, handed the International prize (the top gong), to the Carmel Winery’s Kayoumi Single Vineyard Shiraz 2006. In summarizing their decision the international judging panel declared, “This is a sensational achievement. By triumphing over more noted giants around the world, this cracking wine has turned in one of the performances at this year’s – and indeed any other – DWWA.”

British wine critic Oz Clarke also included two Israeli wineries in his top recommendations for 2010 – Domaine de Castle and Yatir. Clarke added that “Israel is now on the world wine map.”

So I’m definitely in the right place. All I need to do now is educate my palate and be able to define a good wine from a bad one, and there’s only one way to gain the necessary experience. Be it red, white or rose, Cabernet Sauvignon, Muscat, Pinot Grigio, Chardonet or any other type of plonk, I shall manfully battle my way through over the next year and do justice to the superb wine being produced all around me.

Sometimes, Israel’s not such a bad place to be.