Conte Giuseppe Tasca is a short, gentle-looking man who, alongside his brother Alberto, helps to manage the large family estate of Regaleali in Sicily. "We work very hard to make sure we have the quality in the vineyard," he tells me. "And then in the winemaking we have to do nothing." What rot.
I'll agree with him up to a point: wines produced by Tasca d'Almerita are fine expressions of the grapes from which they're made. But that is no more an accident of careless winemaking than it is a coincidence that the South Korean football player Ahn Jung-hwan was sacked by Perugia shortly after scoring the golden goal that knocked Italy out of the World Cup.
The grapes used by the Tasca family include noble varieties - Chardonnay and Cabernet Sauvignon - but also the highly regarded red Nero d'Avola, which may or may not be native to Sicily (its other name is Calabrese); Inzolia, a white grape that is widely planted in the western part of the island; and Tasca, a mysterious white variety that is not mentioned anywhere in my extensive collection of books on wine.
I ask Giuseppe what it is. He must have told this story a thousand times, but you wouldn't know it. Tasca, he says, was brought to Sicily by a battle-weary soldier who, returning from the north of Italy at the end of the First World War, stowed a cutting in his knapsack. "We don't know what it is, but it tastes like Sauvignon and the leaves are shaped like Garganega."
When pressed, he concedes that, in all likelihood, it's a mutation of Garganega, the grape from the Veneto that is often overstretched and abused in production of Soave. There are mutterings about DNA-testing Tasca in laboratories in Milan. Giuseppe pretends to consider them, then brushes the idea aside. The Italians are proud of their native grape varieties. With its paternity unknown, Tasca belongs only to Sicily.
People have been talking Sicily up as an exciting, upcoming area for quality wine for so many years now, that the energy has dropped out of the hype, but maybe its time has come.
Tasca d'Almerita's Nozze d'Oro 1999 (Inzolia, Tasca), created by the original Count Giuseppe for his golden wedding anniversary, is a superb wine. If I were his wife, I should have been very pleased to have inspired it. White and dry, with good acidity, it's rich, nutty and has what I call a precision fruitiness in the mouth. It also has a quite amazing length. It would be delicious with cheese, but I'd be reluctant to waste this on a jaded palate at the end of a meal. You have to be sure of a wine to spend £10.99 on it, but this is a fair price.
I drink a lot of rose, and was impressed by Regaleali Rosato 2001 (£7.49). As deeply pink to look at as August raspberries, it was thick with fruit on the palate and held its shape very well. The dryness underpinned the berry flavours beautifully. Sometimes I look at my wine-tasting notes and think that the way I've described something very nice is actually off-putting, so I've saved this for last: the smell was like a strawberry tart emerging from the oven.
On to my third favourite, Regaleali Rosso 2000 (£7.99). Sicily gets a lot of sun, and by golly, you can taste it in this. Made from 90 per cent Nero d'Avola, it reeks of baked fruit and hot paving slabs, but there's also a whisper of leaves, like the smell when you push past black and flowering redcurrant bushes. In the mouth, it has a very strong flavour that almost knocks you over without being a bit brutish. This is not a wine for drinks parties.
Last but not least, I'd like to recommend the Regaleali Bianco 2001 (£6.99), a fresh, aromatic white that tastes of almonds, apples and ripe fruit.
