Since I write about wine, this article by wine writer Tim Atkin entitled "Should You Trust a Wine Writer's View?" virtually leapt at me from the computer screen.

First, he takes issue with whoever writes those little blurbs on the back of wine bottles. Well, sure, those are ads bub. I can see why most people will question those. What is a winery going to say? "This chardonnay is a weak attempt at a vintage. I wouldn't let my dog drink it." Of course not. It's going to say something like, "light and fruity with a citrus aroma."

But still, he makes some good points: Never trust someone who's trying to sell you something. But what about wine writers? Should you trust our view of what constitutes high quality? I'm biased, but I'd say yes. My aim each week is to provide you with three or four such bottles. I have my own prejudices, but if you follow my recommendations on a regular basis, I hope that you will enjoy the majority of them. Or at least agree to disagree.

My perception of quality has changed over the past decade. I used to be impressed by wines with power, concentration and a load of fruit, but nowadays they bore me. I am increasingly drawn to wines that are enjoyable with a meal, rather than a meal in themselves, that leave you wanting more rather than less.

Three wines I've enjoyed over the past week are the zesty, grapefruity 2005 Rive Haute Sauvignon Blanc, Vin de Pays du Gers (£5.99 each for three, Wine Rack), the refined, unoaked, beautifully weighted 2005 Petit Chablis, Cave des Vignerons (£7.99, Waitrose) and the complex, attractively oaked, modern style 2001 Rioja Reserva, Marques de la Concordia (£5.99 each for two, Majestic). Are these quality wines? I certainly think so. However, the judges of the British Fruit Wine Awards may choose to disagree.