Contrary to mischievous American comics (sample joke: “How many Frenchmen does it take to defend Paris?” “No one knows. It's never been tried”), the French do not easily surrender to international pressure. But rivalry from New World winemakers, particularly for less complex wines, has provoked France to relax its rules on regional appellations. This will allow wines from different areas to be combined to create fruitier, foreign-style blends, labelled by grape variety rather than by region, and designed to appeal more readily to the palates and pockets of foreign wine drinkers.

Some might see this development as a craven capitulation to commerce. But what shame is there in the hybrids of life? Ever since centaurs - those mythical beasts, half-man, half-horse - roamed Mount Pelion, blends of this and that have beguiled mankind; from the mule to the loganberry. Nectarines - not quite peach, nor yet quite plum - are, as their name attests, nectar.

Nor would this be the first time that France had tiptoed into the world of hybrids. Jacques Chirac was famously half president, half sneer. Johnny Halliday is half rock star, half laughing stock. The world's tastes are evolving in response to our pick-and-mix culture. For instance, one of today's most fashionable dog breeds is the labradoodle; half labrador, half poodle. Why cannot France's new range of wines become the labradoodle of viniculture? “Wine”, as Benjamin Franklin astutely spotted, “is constant proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.” And in these troubled times, shall we not take our happiness however the French think it best to bottle it?