IMAGINE it’s your birthday. You invite a couple of friends for dinner to share the celebration. They are also passionate about great food and fine wines. You plan the menu... but, which wine to serve? Something unique, something special. Now, honestly, would a Merlot from Chile come to mind? No?

Well, think again... Marco Polo’s journeys were a mere walk in the park compared with my recent searches for exciting, delicious wines for UpperCrust. Late one evening, I found myself over the Andes, in descent to Santiago, the capital of Chile. It’s a sensational country; spanning 4,300 kilometres from north to south, encompassing the extraordinarily beautiful Atacama Desert in the north, and the Antarctic in the far south. Pink flamingos to polar penguins. And, talking of birdlife, the emblem of this country is the mighty condor, which glides over the high reaches of the ever present Andes mountains.

So, do the wines do justice to the majesty of the scenery? Chile is a very serious contender in the world of wine. It’s hot on the heels of Australia — producing fruity, ripe, easy-drinking wines at a price that won’t burn a hole in your pocket. And, make no mistake, higher up the scale there are some wines of great class — Almaviva, Sena, Domus Auree — packing quite a punch in the glass.

So what’s the secret? Let’s start from first principles. Let’s say you want to grow wines, make wine, but you want to achieve something of quality, something you can sell well. To make good wine, you need a climate that’s not too hot — hot country wines tend to taste course and jammy. But, not too cold — or the wine will be thin and acidic. Many of the world’s greatest wines come from areas which are right on the edge, at the climatic limits for the grape... think of Bordeaux, Chablis, Riesling from the Mosel. So, in these regions, you get vintage variation. Some years the wines hit the bullseye, but other years they fall far short of the mark. Sounds difficult, risky? It is. But, imagine some bright spark in your company suggests investing in a vineyard in Chile. Warm, sunny days, but, crucially, cool fresh nights, thanks to the Andes mountains and the icy sea breezes which come from the Antarctic. A quick glance at the rainfall levels over harvest time (low) and the tendency of Chile wines to disease (also low) is enough to make even the most laidback Frenchman green with envy.

Thanks to the climate, many Chilean vineyards are managed with ease without chemical sprays — great news for the wine drinker. At the experimental organic vineyard owned by Carmen, I saw a diversity of flowers and herbs grown among the vines to encourage biodiversity of nature. And, even llamas in the vineyard — apparently these gentle creatures helpfully eat up insects. Tasting Chilean wines, you are (almost) guaranteed ripeness in the glass, a good intensity of flamboyant flavour. The style that has driven Chile’s success on the export markets recently is easy drinking, fruity Merlot. It’s one of the classic ‘Bordeaux’ grape varieties, and here given plummy wines of smooth texture, with rich fruit cake notes, and highish alcohol.

The Colchagua Valley, two hours by car south of Santiago, is home to some especially velvety, fine Merlots. I stayed in Santa Cruz, an old town in the middle of the valley. My balcony opened onto the main square — but we’re not talking traffic noise. We’re talking about the occasional posse of cowboys, riding home from the local rodeo. An old Catholic church. And a couple of wizened old gents sitting quietly enjoying a ‘pisco sour’, the local spirit, as a sundowner. Yes, I’m starting to really love this country.

There is a micro region in this valley that goes by the name of Apalta; hillside vineyards here benefit from supercool nights, which give an extra edge of elegance to the wines. Both Montes and Casa Lapostolle are based here, and I am enthusiastic about wines from both producers. Aurelio Montes brings out a very well-made range under the Montes Alpha label, and I particularly rate his Folly wine. It’s made from 100 per cent Syrah grapes, and the unusual name refers, I’m told, to the apparent folly of planting Syrah, an untested grape in these parts, on such steep slopes. On the label, its claimed to be "an emotional wine... harvested by acrobats". Well, Aurelio has the last laugh, for it’s a great wine, with a very attractive nose — eucalyptus, herbal notes. The label is pretty funky too, designed by renowned cartoonist Ralph Steadman.

After all that vineyard trekking up Apalta slopes, I was grateful for the delicious lunch served in the shady grounds of the Casa Lapostolle mansion down the road. I was joined at lunch by the well respected French winemaker, Michel Friou. In the past Friou worked for four years under the eminent Michel Rolland in India. Now he’s well settled in Chile, with a young family; "It’s a great, clean, natural environment to bring up children, I love it!" he enthuses.

I have respect for the Casa Lapostolle wines, they have good fruit but also shown an elegance in style and structure that betrays their French influence. A superb example is their ravishing Tanao red wine, ‘Tanao’ means spirits of the air, made from Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Carmenere.

Carmenere is a pretty rare grape worldwide; there is just a tiny amount in Bordeaux, and quite a bit (more than many admit) in Chile. The reason why it’s a bit of an embarrassing issue for Chile is that for years it was wrongly assumed to be Merlot — or mixed in haphazardly with Merlot in vineyards. Quite a problem, as Carmenere grapes actually reach full ripeness as much as three weeks after Merlot. Fully ripe Carmenere can be a delicious wine, but all too often the wines show a telltale green, unripe streak.

Michel Friou told me that he feels that, "Chile is really a red wine country." But I liked Lapostolle’s Sauvignon Blanc and Chardonnay wines. Significantly, the grapes from these wines are sourced from the cool coastal Casablanca region north west of Santiago. In Casablanca, during the growing season, the sea winds start to blow quite reliably every day around 2 o’clock in the afternoon. You need to reach for your jumper; the mercury falls by around 10 degrees in two hours. It’s all great news for the Sauvignon vines — the grapes get to hang on the vine for far longer than in hotter regions. And as a result the wine retains a lot more crisp acidity as well as those distinctive Sauvignon grapefruit and gooseberry aromatics.

Well made Chilean Sauvignon Blanc can rival the best from New Zealand. Outstanding examples include Villard, San Pedro’s 39 South (great value) and Concha y Toro’s Trio and Terrunyo. The remarkably gifted winemaker at Concha y Toro, Ignacio Recabarren, is something of a legendary figure in Chile. Recabarren has worked in the past in New Zealand, also with the Sauvignon Blanc grape, and as he explained to me, "New Zealand is so different compared with our country. In Marlborough (the home of Cloudy Bay) it’s super windy, more rain, and it’s cooler. Here it’s very important to know exactly where you need to plant your vineyards — where it’s cooler, in Casablanca, and Leyda, close to the Pacific — and especially to try to plant clones that reopen later."

White grapes for high quality wines are picked in the very early morning, before the hot sun starts to beat down, all to preserve fruit freshness. And, what’s more, ever the perfectionist, Recabarren sends his Sauvignon pickers out not just once, but at several carefully staged pick times: "This year I have been picking at five different opportunities. Because in that way you bring in all the flavour spectrum of Sauvignon; you pick a lot of malic acid, you have green pepper, and you also have very very ripe tropical fruit notes."

There’s just one tiny problem. Remember the mix up between Merlot and Carmenere? Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but quite a bit of Chilean Sauvignon Blanc is not Sauvignon Blanc at all. It’s another, similar grape, called Sauvignonasse. Or, it may be a mix of the two. Hmm. Confused? Yes, me too.

Sauvignonasse is widely felt to be of much inferior aromatic quality Sauvignon Blanc. Tasting certainly revealed a weaker, more pink grapefruit character, with less persistence of flavour over time. All I can counsel is that you drink up wine labelled as Chilean Sauvignon Blanc when it’s very young and fresh, certainly in its first year. And — enjoy. Don’t worry about those tricky grape issues. After all, it’s fairly easy on the pocket.

You couldn’t make the same claim for Chile’s so called ‘icon’ wines. Wines like Almaviva, Sena, Don Melchor, Montes M, Domus Aurea. These wines are presented as the aristocrats of Chile’s production; richly concentrated, intended for ageing, highly prized — and highly priced. The Almaviva project is a joint venture between Baroness Philippine De Rothschild, of Chateau Mouton Rothschild in Bordeaux, and the giant Chilean producer, Concha y Toro. I see from my notes that I liked the Almaviva 2001 and 2002. I admired their concentration, ripeness and length of flavour. But, a couple of comments. These icon level wines are designed to be cellared, aged before drinking. As Chile is a relative newcomer in the fine wine game, we just don’t know yet how the finer wines will develop over time.

My last evening in Chile was spent at the Vinedo Chadwick estate. The residence at the estate was home to the founder of the Errazuriz wine company, Don Alfonso Chadwick Errazuriz. Don Alfonso’s passion for the wine was matched in equal terms by his passion for the game of polo. I would wager that you might be just be won over by a glass of the Vinedo Chadwick wine, a dense, perfumed wine of great elegance and finesse.

Chile’s a stunning country. But please, don’t forget the wines. Certainly worth your attention.