Tuscany: earth has not anything to show more fair. The landscape is charming. The gentle hills seem to smile down upon humanity. The inhabitants give the impression that they were already civilised when we British barely had enough woad to paint our backsides blue.

There are also the grapes. From early on, Tuscany sent its vinous plenitude to Rome. Today, it still does, and to Orbi as well as Urbi. There was a time when Italian wine was not taken seriously in the world, and Italians themselves seemed to concur with this patronising assessment. That is no longer the case. One of the most interesting intellectual disputes in vinous matters now concerns Italian wine.

There are the traditionalists who insist that every country should concentrate on its own grape varietals. If that view prevailed, Tuscany would restrict itself to Sangiovese. Others –me among them, for what that is worth – would argue that if the vines grow, salute their harvest. That will also ensure that the French do not plunder the wallets of everyone in the world who would like to drink good wine.

The other evening, I had the pleasure of helping the Tuscans to raise their banners in the battle against the French. I have recently praised the house of Jeroboams, wine merchants who are also missionaries. ‘I often wonder what the vintners buy/ One half as precious as the stuff they sell.’ Omar Khayyam had a point, but those who taste wines at Jeroboams will also be served with serious scoff.

In the 1960s, some ancient Tuscan families decided that it was time to enhance their repertoire. If the Bordelaise could grow Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot, why should Italy hold back? Hence the super-Tuscans, a deliberate attempt to challenge the French on their own terroir. This might not seem a tactful moment to assail French sensibilities, after one of the greatest rugger matches of all time. France lost by one point, to the descendants of inter alia Huguenot Afrikaners, who have themselves created a serious wine industry. Apropos rugby, the Italians are still a work in progress. With wine, they are further advanced.

Jeroboams produced one of the earliest super-Tuscans, Ornellaia, and set it a challenge. We began the evening with a Laurent-Perrier Grand Siècle, a very serious drop of stuff. There followed an Ornellaia Bianco. How could it cope with a first-rate champagne? The answer: surprisingly well. This is the best white super-Tuscan that is yet available. It could easily stand up to an upper-second-division white Bordeaux.

Ornellaia is better known for its reds. We tried the 2009 and the 2011. Around the table, there was general agreement that the older year was the finer. Moreover, 2011 had been a difficult harvest. The 2009 will keep for many years. I would rate it as a third-growth claret. Others felt that this was ungenerous. Be that as it may, it is a good wine. There was also a sweet Ornellaia, Ornus. Although it will improve, it is evidence of ambition and commitment. I would conclude that the pedant purists who believe that Tuscan wine-makers should confine themselves to local varietals have been conclusively refuted by the outcomes. The super-Tuscans have added to the repertoire of available wines, and assuming that the world economy does not implode, all wine-drinkers everywhere should salute these endeavours.

At the end of the evening, we congratulated ourselves. Three hours of serious drinking – and eating – without a single mention of the travails of the Middle East. Was this self-indulgence on our part? Or was it a necessary respite? Thank goodness for the brief escapism of fine wine.