Not the wines of classical antiquity, nor the mediocre imports of some years ago, today’s Greek wines come from appellations with strict European rules for viticulture and production.

Greece

Until last week my associations with Nemea were entirely literary: the wonderful lyric poems and fragments celebrating athletic victories of the sixth and early fifth centuries B.C., known to us as Pindar’s Nemean odes. And my associations with Santorini were entirely historical: the site of the huge volcanic eruption that ended Minoan palace civilization in about 1650 B.C. and gave rise to the legends of Atlantis.

I certainly never associated them—or Lakonia, Thessaly, Attica or Limnos—with wines, or at least with contemporary tastes in wine. But these perceptions changed at a Slowfoods organization dinner arranged by Ted Conklin at the American Hotel last week. Amerikus, the importer of the evening’s wines, supplied a wide array of what they call the “Greek wines of today.” It is an appropriate description. These are neither the wines of historical Greece nor the retsinas and generally undrinkable Greek wines of a few decades ago. These are wines very much in tune with the way we as Americans drink now.

A few are from familiar grapes like sauvignon blanc and sangiovese, but the great majority and for me the most interesting wines are from native grapes. Winemaking methods have clearly gone through a revolution in Greece, for the characteristics that come through in the glass can only have been created with modern techniques and equipment. Greece, like other European Union countries, has an appellation system that sets strict rules for growing grapes and producing wine. While the appellations are technical designations and are of themselves not that interesting from a consumer view, they do at least give an assurance of seriousness and intent. Plus their names resonate with history.

The imported wines are obviously intended for a wider market than the Greek-American community or Greek restaurants, and since they are competitively priced they could very well find a place in the future alongside the wines of Spain and Italy and other Mediterranean countries. Most are good quality everyday wines—the sort we drink young, with meals or for casual sipping. Some reds have more serious traits and could be cellared for a few years.

The most ambitious wine I sampled was called simply Old Cellar Red. From the 1998 vintage, it is made from the agiorgitiko grape in the Nemea region, a popular grape and a well-regarded appellation. The wine is aged for two years in oak barrels, and then bottle aged for another two. The result is a mature, well-balanced, velvety wine with a mid to deep ruby color, supple tannins, and a bouquet of berries and cherries. It doesn’t exactly correspond to a pinot noir, but that is the most parallel match I can think of. The wine is light enough for many summer menus yet rich enough for dishes where you want a lucid red wine flavor. At $24, it is one of the more expensive Greek wines, but still quite a good value.

At the other end of the taste spectrum was a white wine produced from the moschofilero grape. From the Haggipavlu winery in Mantinia, it is fermented in stainless steel, preserving a clean and crisp taste. Bone dry, with citrus and floral aromas, and distinct mineral notes, it is a fine match for shellfish particularly, or for that matter with anything on which you might squeeze a lemon. The bottle retails for $12.

Two dessert wines caught my attention, both for quality and the remarkably low prices. A muscat produced on the island of Limnos (site of the myth of the Amazons) under the Agros label, was delicately balanced with reasonable proportions of sweetness and acidity. With its clear color, concentrated texture, and honeysuckle and apricot aromas, it is a soothing way to end a meal. A full 750 ml bottle costs only $11. St. Nicholas Commandaria, from Cyprus, is a honeyed wine made from two local grapes, with a history that goes back millennia. The color is amber, the scents are of baked pear, caramel and spice, and the taste is lingering and inviting. It sells for $13.

There are scores of Greek wines out there to try, and based on my samplings, I’d experiment with any number of them. Selections from the Amerikus portfolio are sold at a number of East End stores, including Franey’s, McNulty’s, Amagansett, and Sag Harbor Liquors.

I am certainly going to keep watching and tasting Greek wines in the future. Mention Peloponnese to me now, and in addition to thinking of the extended wars between Athens and Sparta, I will focus on some peaceful and mellow tastes.