Bloodshot eyeballs and an ailing liver used to be the worst of it; now we have something else to worry about: "How wine can turn you into a werewolf," one tabloid warned recently. Apparently, a man called Ken overdid it on the plonk one day, then went on his hols to Tobago where, in the sunshine, the skin on the back of his hands started to loosen and hairs sprouted between his lower eyelids and beardline, all due to a condition called porphyria.
Ken's story reminded me to write about wine allergies - or so-called wine allergies, as they ought sometimes to be known. Before sufferers start wheezing in fury, let me say I'm not being sceptical (or unsympathetic) about your symptoms, but about the apportioning of blame. Sulphites are usually presented as the villain, increasingly so now that much wine is labelled with the vague yet threatening "contains sulphites", a practice that has exacerbated anxiety/suspicion without informing in any useful way. Under EU labelling law, "contains sulphites" means the wine contains more than 10mg of free SO2 per litre. Truly sulphite-free wine does not exist because sulphites occur naturally. Most wines have sulphur compounds added as a preservative. White wine, which is more chemically fragile, is likely to contain more than red, and limits are set by the EU for both.
A small percentage of people are allergic to sulphites (asthmatics are more likely to be affected): headaches, wheezing and coughing are typical symptoms. But sulphites are also found in dried fruit, fruit juice made from concentrates, beer, cider and prepared salads. If sulphites are causing your reaction, try SO Organic Fair Trade "No Added Sulphites" Cabernet Sauvignon 2007/8, South Africa (£4.99, Sainsbury's; 14% abv), which the supermarket says is very popular. Les Caves de Pyrene (lescaves.co.uk, 01483 554750) also specialises in "natural" (ie minimally treated) wine, so is a good place for advice.
But sulphites aren't necessarily the culprit. Anecdotally, I've heard it all: the friend banned from bars because French white wine made her aggressive; the man who gets headaches from red wine; the woman who gets them from white... Judging by this litany, there are many problems at work here, and we could do with knowing more. Example: my father finds that all alcohol makes him breathe like Darth Vader. So he was ecstatic recently when his sense of smell returned (temporarily, sadly) and his alcohol allergy vanished, though as it took a major heart attack to bring this about, no one feels much like repeating the experiment. We wonder if the medication he was given in the cardiac unit did the trick. If so, I'll let you know.
This week I'm drinking
Domaine Rafael Tinto 2005 Alentejo, Portugal (£8.25, Berry Bros; 12.5% abv) A heady, warm, mellow rush of a red to see me through the remains of winter.
