As those who have been following my recent blog posts will know, the 2012 Salon des Vins de Loire has not been one that has gone completely smoothly. Poor communication with the organisers of the off-events, questionable decisions about timing and bad weather have all contributed towards reduced visitor numbers. A shoddily run bus service, with buses which failed to materialise on two of the three occasions I opted to use the service, only added to my frustration. And a close call making my travel connections on the way down to the Salon added a personal frisson of excitement; having gone through my travel bookings from previous Salons I've realised this was because the train I caught was 40 minutes earlier than in previous years; that's something I will have to look out for next year!

The history of Château Coutet dates back to the 13th century, hundreds of years before anyone even dreamt of planting vines on the then-marshy, now-prosperous Médoc. Some parts of the château (pictured below) date from that period, as is obvious from even the briefest examination of the property; these parts have thick walls of stone, towers and defensive castellations. Out among the northern plots of the vineyard sits a dovecot which towers above the vines (pictured further down the page), also obviously ancient, dating from the same era. There has, however, been extensive augmentation and modification to the château over the ensuing centuries, including a 14th-century chapel, two 16th-century towers and a remodelling in the 18th century.

Having spent paragraph after paragraph and page after page exploring the Tuscan wine universe, covering everything from Chianti and Brunello di Montalcino through to Vino Nobile di Montepulciano and the wines of the Tuscan Coast, most of which feature Sangiovese in one form or another, we might be forgiven for thinking that - apart from a few Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot vines planted around Bolgheri - there is absolutely nothing to Tuscany beyond Sangiovese. On the one hand this is not entirely untrue; there is no denying the fact that this variety is totally dominant here; within the whole of Italy it accounts for more than 10% of all vineyards, and many of these vines lie within Tuscany's borders, where the variety goes not just by its own name but also a number of pseudonyms including Brunello, Prugnolo Gentile and Morellino. Tuscany and Sangiovese are close to synonymous. The variety may never have made a big splash as an international player in Californian, South American, Australian or South African vineyards in the way that Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot or Syrah have done, but this does not reflect any lack of ability to dominate absolutely on its home turf.

It was an uncharacteristically bright and sunny afternoon when I drew my car to a halt on the gravel at the side of Château Raymond-Lafon. I say uncharacteristic because this was late October, and if there is one thing I didn't expect to enjoy on this trip to Bordeaux it was clear blue skies and warm sunshine. But that was the story of the 2011 vintage in Bordeaux (and indeed all of France); erratic, topsy-turvy weather, an unusually cool summer flanked by an unseasonably warm spring and autumn. Such atypical weather might not have been ideal for the vines, but right I was grateful for it; I would never miss out on a walk in the vineyard to inspect the vines, whatever the weather, but given the choice I will choose sunshine over showers any day. You would too, particularly if you have ever had the experience of stepping out from your car onto the soil of the vineyard only to feel those nearly-new shoes sinking three inches into the soft, yielding clay. The combination of 'squelch-and-sink' is not a happy one.

Nobody who read my blog post last Friday concerning The New Sancerre will be surprised to see the latest selection for my Wine of the Week is from what might be the Loire Valley's most famous appellation. I'm increasingly aware, as is the case with Muscadet (which, come to think of it, is the other contender for the Loire's most famous appellation - even if it is part fame, part infamy), that although many of the wines are not that remarkable, there is a hard-core of domaines turning out wines that really pique my interest. And in the case of Sancerre this is despite a disdain I have developed in recent years for the varietal characteristics displayed by the vast majority of wines made from Sauvignon Blanc.

It is somewhat strange that although it was Sancerre that first drew me to the Loire, these days the wines of this most famous of all Loire vineyards hardly ever pass my lips. I can’t recall which domaines I was drinking in those very early days, more than twenty years ago, although I am certain that the wines of the Vacheron family had a place in my cellar; I visited their domaine for the first time in 1992, and carried the bottles back to the UK with me. With the passing of time I came to realise that I found more variety, joy and individuality in the wines of Anjou, Saumur and Touraine, and Sancerre passed into memory.

It is easy to overlook the fact that Sauternes as well as the Médoc was sufficiently prestigious to be classified in 1855; when we talk of first growths, the premiers grands crus classés, our minds readily turn to Latour and Margaux, and not so much Guiraud or Rieussec. But the Sauternes estates were most certainly classified, although they have not all faired so well over the last century as their Médoc counterparts. This is particularly true when we look to the deuxièmes crus, some of which are infrequently sighted and even more rarely tasted. One such estate is undoubtedly Château de Myrat, a 30-hectare estate which fell on hard times in the latter years of the 20th century, so much so that for a period of time viticulture and winemaking ground to a halt here, leading to an fifteen-year hiatus during which the vines were ripped up.

Of all the first growths Margaux is certainly a strong contender for being the most splendidly presented, its imposing 19th-century château which peers over the chai, barrel cellars and other buildings easily visible from the D2, the road that snakes up the Médoc past the front doors of many of the classed growths. It stands proud, surrounded by several broad sweeps of vines, the only visual challenge being from Château Palmer which is visible in the distance, its witches-hat turrets stretching skywards in marked contrast to the more reserved style of the château at Margaux. It is a regal château indeed, and certainly fitting in view of the quality of the wines that have been made here over the last couple of decades.

The uninitiated, turning up to taste the latest vintage at one of the left bank's first growth estates, might expect something a little special, a little different to all the classed growths one or more rungs down the 1855 ladder. Indeed, for any acolyte of the wines of Bordeaux, such visits are special; a chance to see the vines and cellars for yourself, and perhaps even to meet the winemaking team. And the wines should - especially when one considers the prices now asked for these bottles - also deliver just that little bit more. But to expect other extravagances is perhaps to court disappointment.

The story of 2007 in Bordeaux is one of sorry disappointment enhanced by overly exuberant pricing. At least, that is the case for the red wines. When it comes to the sweet white wines of Bordeaux, however, this is a very exciting vintage (this can also be said of the dry white wines by the way, although these were not put under the microscope during this tasting). In the case of Sauternes and Barsac, this has been apparent from the outset.

The past week or two has seen plenty of buzz about Burgundy 2010; early January is when Burgundy descends on London in an orgy of tasting sufficiently intense and prolonged to tire even the most hardened of wine critics. In one week there were close to 30 tastings dedicated solely to Burgundy, in most cases hosted by the many merchants which would now very much like to sell you these wines. Burgundy as a region remains of intense interest to many, so perhaps I shouldn't me surprised that Twitter, Facebook, various blogs and a number of print columns all sprang to life with news of how the wines were tasting.

ot entirely by chance there has been a strong presence of books with an organic, biodynamic or 'natural' feel to them on my reading list of late, some recently published and some rather long in the tooth. In the former camp, and a strong addition to the 'natural wine' lexicon is this tome, Naked Wine, Alice Feiring's second book after The Battle for Wine and Love: How I saved the World from Parkerization. 'Tome' is perhaps not quite the right word though, as it suggests something dense, academic, perhaps even a little dry, whereas this book is anything but. Written in a style which is captivating, personal, digestible and candid, leafing through a few pages of Naked Wine is a little like leafing through somebody's private journal at times, one that describes a very individual journey of adventure, mishap and discovery.

I'm delighted that this year as last year, Winedoctor readers have been sending their favourite wine in context moments of 2011, and the fourth and final batch of submissions are published here. The first of these two final submissions tell us of the joy of touring and tasting in France's south-western appellations. The second would only be diminished by some sound-bite introduction; I can only suggest you read it.....

Moving on from the left bank communes we now come to the two principal right bank appellations of St Emilion and Pomerol. In a number of vintages - classic examples being 2008, 2001 and 1998 in my opinion, although there are other vintages where this is true - the right bank communes can outshine those on the left. In other years, of which the leading example is surely 1996, the left bank communes reign supreme. In 2007, for the red wine communes at least, few such distinctions are really valid (except to say that they all outperformed Margaux). On the right bank, however, it does seem that these wines are very slightly favoured, although I don't think the effect is strong enough for us to label 2007 as a right-bank vintage akin to some of those listed above. There are no great success stories here in this vintage.

Moving south from St Estèphe and Pauillac we come to St Julien, where quality was not significantly different to these aforementioned communes. The story of 2007 continues here with no surprises. This is not quite true of the commune of Margaux though, although sadly I have to report that the quality here does not swing back towards something more desirable than that which we have found so far. Instead the opposite is true, as in this commune we find one of the most disappointing Bordeaux experiences available on the market today.

Breaking out of my comfort zone is a priority for me in 2012; this doesn't mean I want to start drinking biodynamic Zambian Sagrantino, or Latvian Furmint aged in underground amphorae made from ceremonially pulverised moon rocks, more that I feel a need to look beyond the domaines I know to some that are less familiar, and hopefully bring some news of these domaines and their wines to Winedoctor. And it is not Zambia or Latvia that I will be focusing on, but the Loire; a wine region you might think I know well. But you know the old saying - "the more you learn, the less you know" - and I'm conscious that this can be applied to wine. For every one of the Loire's many domaines that I know well and think I understand, there are ten more making wines which I have never tasted. It is these domaines I would like to know a little better, even if I can only scratch the surface of this undiscovered country.

There are few Barsac and Sauternes estates lying outside the two tiers (three if you include Yquem's exalted position at the summit) of the 1855 classification which receive much attention, if indeed any. Indeed, there are quite a number of the second growth châteaux that are rarely sighted. One of the few unclassified estates that does crop up rather frequently, however, is Château Bastor-Lamontagne, an estate with which I have been familiar ever since my first taste of the fresh, blood-orange tones of the 1986 vintage. Since then I have on occasion noticed this fresh, flavoursome, citrus fruit trait in a number of other vintages, not least the 2003 and 2004. Often a lighter and less unctuous wine than its more highly-ranked peers, Bastor-Lamontagne has a character that will appeal to many looking for a brighter style of Sauternes. Classified or not, this is a property with which we should at least be familiar.

I'm delighted that this year as last year, Winedoctor readers have been sending their favourite wine in context moments of 2011, and the third batch of submissions are published here. There are just wine in context stories presented, but they are both very special I think; each one serves to illustrate just what an important role wine can play in our lives.

I started this tasting of the 2007 Bordeaux with low expectations, and by the time I had tasted the first eight wines from Pessac-Léognan, all fresh, crisp and rather light, my outlook had certainly not changed. I wasn't expecting much relief as I moved onto the wines of the Médoc communes.

The 2007 vintage in Bordeaux was one that favoured the white wines over the red. Of course, there are few white wines produced in the region, at the classed growth level at least, and it is only to Graves and of course its sweeter counterparts Sauternes and Barsac that we can turn to find these wines. Unfortunately the annual Institute of Masters of Wine Bordeaux tasting has always focused on the red wines, not the white, and so the very successful dry white wines of Pessac-Léognan - wines that you could argue were the most successful dry wines of the vintage - were not on show today. Happily, there is a sweetener though.