English wine is not “emerging” anymore. It has stopped asking permission, stopped apologising, and started showing up in glasses with the calm confidence of something that knows it belongs there.
I still remember the early days of ordering English sparkling in a restaurant and doing that tiny internal pep talk before the first pour. Not because it was bad, but because the room was primed to treat it like a novelty. These days, I’ve seen blind tastings where English bottles take the table and nobody asks where it’s from until the end. That’s when you get the eyebrow raise. The good kind.
Production is up – but the bigger story is confidence
Yes, the numbers are moving. England and Wales are pushing into serious volume now, with forecasts talking about production passing 16 million bottles. That’s not boutique. That’s scale. And scale changes behaviour: listings become bolder, buyers get braver, and producers stop making “safe” wines designed to avoid criticism.
Still, I’m less interested in the headline than what it signals. English wine has stopped chasing approval. The best producers are making wines they actually want to drink, not wines designed to win over someone who’s already decided it can’t be good.
Sparkling still leads – and that’s fine
English sparkling remains the flagship for a reason. Our climate gives us acidity for days, and when it’s handled properly, it delivers precision and lift that can feel genuinely thrilling. The mousse is getting finer, the fruit is getting cleaner, and dosage is (thankfully) being used with restraint rather than as a comfort blanket.
If you’re buying for spring, here’s what I’d prioritise:
- Vintage English sparkling from strong recent years (structured, longer finish, more confidence at the table).
- Blanc de Blancs styles that lean into tension and chalky lift rather than trying to be “round”.
- Producers who don’t over-sweeten to please the timid palate.
The quiet revolution is still wine
This is where it stops being predictable.
Chardonnay is getting properly good in the right hands. Bacchus is finally maturing into its own personality (either beautifully aromatic or impressively restrained, depending on who’s driving). Pinot Noir is starting to show depth in warmer pockets, not just “good for England” charm.
And yes, I’ll say it: some English still wines are now better than their price tags suggest they should be. Not cheap, but better than the sceptics deserve.
Bacchus: the loveable show-off
Bacchus is the grape that can either smell like you’ve fallen into a hedgerow in May, or it can behave like a crisp, modern white with real polish. If you’ve been burned by one that was too loud, don’t write it off. The good ones have bite, freshness, and a very British sense of style: charming, but not trying too hard.
Chardonnay: the serious one
English Chardonnay is finding its stride with that clean citrus line, subtle orchard fruit, and a finish that feels taut rather than thin. When oak is used quietly (not as a personality), it’s really convincing.
Pinot Noir: stop laughing, it’s working
We’re not pretending it’s Burgundy. We’re not asking it to be. But in the right sites, with sensible yields, Pinot Noir is becoming something you can genuinely plan a dinner around.
Cornwall and the “other” regions worth watching
Sussex and Kent get the headlines because they’ve earned them. Still, I keep an eye on Cornwall for a different reason: a touch more warmth, different soils, and a slightly more relaxed energy that can translate into wines with a bit more generosity.
You’re not going to see supermarket domination from these areas yet. That’s not the point. The point is that the quality curve is moving and the map is widening.
The trade shift: English wine is becoming a serious list choice
Land isn’t cheap. Labour isn’t cheap. Weather still likes to keep everyone humble. So English wine doesn’t get to compete on price in the way people lazily demand it should.
What it can compete on is identity and quality. More restaurant lists are placing English sparkling as a deliberate choice, not a patriotic footnote. That matters. Once it’s a normal decision for a sommelier, it becomes a normal decision for guests.
And for events and corporate hospitality, it’s a smart flex. Serving English sparkling at a UK conference signals confidence in local quality, not just tradition by default. Guests remember details like that. They remember what made it feel considered.
What I’d be opening February to March
- Vintage English Blanc de Blancs with oysters, scallops, or anything salty and clean.
- A polished Bacchus with goat’s cheese, asparagus, or a sharp green salad that needs a wine with a spine.
- English Pinot Noir with roast chicken that actually has crisp skin, or mushroom dishes that want something savoury.
FAQ: quick answers people always ask
Is English sparkling actually better than Champagne?
Sometimes, yes. Not “better” as a blanket statement, but there are bottles that outshine plenty of mid-tier Champagne on freshness, precision, and overall drinkability. Champagne still has depth, history, and an insane range. England is winning at focus.
Why is English wine expensive?
High land costs, high labour costs, often lower yields, and plenty of risk. You’re paying for a difficult place to grow grapes, done properly.
What’s the safest English wine to buy if I’m nervous?
English sparkling from an established producer. Then branch into Bacchus if you like aromatic whites, or Chardonnay if you prefer something cleaner and more structured.
If English wine keeps moving like this, the next conversation won’t be “Is it good?” It’ll be “Which region do you rate?” and that’s a much more interesting argument to have.
