The sommelier Honey Spencer, of Sune in east London, struck a real chord on Instagram earlier this year: “I’m so fucking sick of expensive wine,” she lamented. There followed an angry plaint about the “unrelenting rise” in the cost of bottles from “artisans making wine properly … and FORGET BURGUNDY”. In a difficult climate, this is “one of the hardest pills to swallow” for the restaurateur.

It’s not an easy swallow for the customer, either, given the mark-up on hard pills these days: according to UKHospitality, the price of wine has gone up 40% since 2020, which will surprise no one who has quietly wept into a £59 rioja.

You can cite many reasons – our old friend Brexit, climate change, rising staffing costs, rising costs of, well, everything – but two factors stand out. One is a steep rise in alcohol duty: British drinkers already pay the highest alcohol tax in Europe and, as of this year, this will rise in line with inflation. According to a widely shared graphic from Bibendum, if a bottle of wine sets you back £7.50, you’re actually spending £2.87 on excise duty, £1.25 on VAT and just 94p on the wine.

Nevertheless, more significant is the fact that fewer of us are ordering wine at all. Again, the reasons are manifold (health, wealth, fashion, etc), but when it’s no longer a given that table eight will order a bottle of house wine – said house wine being a £42 picpoul de pinet – margins have to rise for those who do partake. Businesses will naturally lavish more attention on those few customers who are prepared to pay, so we have an ouroboros of oeno-flation, wherein everyone gets eaten.

Still, with my cocktailing hat on, I can’t help but feeling that the doom is overdone. If the hospitality sector can persuade people that £12-plus+ is a fair price for an Aperol spritz, it really ought to be able to do the same for, I don’t know, a nice Georgian saperavi or an intriguing Austrian blaufränkisch. It might take a little cocktail-esque theatricality, true – some sense of wine being a treat as opposed to the default. But the places that have done this, offering select, interesting lists by the glass and carafe, seem to be flourishing. Personally, I rarely want a whole bottle over dinner, anyway, especially when the same style is a sixth of the price in the supermarket.

Moreover, the world of wine is vast. If garagiste bordeaux and grower champagnes are beyond the reach of the casual drinker, well, head to the Languedoc instead, or shine a light on Italian franciacorta. Fashion in wine, as in all things, has secret advantages: for every overpriced appellation, there are a dozen that are overlooked. In fact, making a point of drinking only unhip grapes from overlooked regions seems an excellent strategy all round.

Four unhip bargains

Waitrose Loved & Found Viorica 2024 £9.50, 12%.Cantaloupe, elderflower, blossom. A gorgeous spring white from your new obsession: Moldova.

Earth, Vine & Sun Viognier Chenin Blanc 2025 £13.99 Laithwaites, 11%. Bright, subtle blend of two underrated grapes that shine in South Africa’s Swartland.

Juanico Uruguayan Tannat 2024 £10 Ocado, 13%. A deep, dark, Uruguayan speciality. Needs oxygen and meat, then: mwah!

Domaine Serge Laloue Sancerre 2023 £24 Wine Society, 14.5%. Forget burgundy: head to the centre Loire for affordable pinot.