By Katy Anderson

When I told a couple of winemaker and sommelier friends I was attending a Greek wine tasting, a smug look bounced from face to face across the room.

"Watch out for the retsina, girl," my friend A.J. said, voicing what I'm sure everyone in the room was thinking. He was referring to the bain of Greek wine's reputation; thick, sweet, funky retsina, a concoction widely considered vile by anyone who's encountered it (I mean no offense to those who truly love retsina, but I've never actually met any of you).

This was the issue being addressed by a panel of Master Sommelier as well as a slew of Greek winemakers, vineyard owners, restaurant workers and wine writers: Greek wine has a reputation to fix. Wine has been made in Greece since ancient times, but now, good wine is being made in Greece, and no one has been taking notice until now.

A big step in Greek wine's publicity was this tour I attended at the Westin St. Francis in San Francisco on the 23rd of April. The crew had stopped in New York before landing here on the West Coast, and according to George Athanas, one of the major organizers, the seminars were very well received.

The Greek Wine Association (www.thewinesofgreece.com) stressed throughout the entire tasting that a plethora of good wine is being produced in the world today-largely thanks to the ease of communication and transportation making experience, technique and technology global.

Getting to know Greece's regions and studying what makes them complex and individual is what will make them flourish, especially in the case of the Xinomavro grape and the Naoussas area, according to Master of Wine Konstantinus Lazarakis.

The wines I tasted were far from boring and even further from the retsina phenomenon.

It's a given that, as in all of Greece's wine regions, 342 varietals will only yield a handful of noteworthy wines. I tasted a good sample of these from Greece, and its surrounding areas.

The most noteworthy of the whites were a 2006 Aegean Islands Athiri made by Emery Villare, (crispy, light minerals, smelled kind of like a pine tree), an Assyrtiko from Santorini called Sigalas Santorini 2006 that was potent and minerally enough to account for its birth in windswept nests on the heights of a dormant volcano and my favorite white, the intriguing and tropically-nosed Malgousia. It smelled like papayas, jasmine and green bamboo, making me want to drink it on the beach in Thailand while eating a chicken satay and curling my toes into the butter-warm sand. It was a regional wine of Epanomi and Macedonia named Gerovassiliou Malagousia, retailing for only $20.

Master Sommelier Brian Cronin

Master Sommelier Brian Cronin said he laughed as he tasted some of the whites set before the panel.

"These wines kept reminding us of different whites----one was like a Puligny Montrachet, then a Gruner Veltliner, then a dry Reisling."

In fact, Cronin said when he, Athanas, Master Sommelier Gilles de Chambure and Master Sommelier Keith Goldston toured Greece tasting wines in September of 2006, he tasted an early 90's Assyrtiko from Sigalas that he believed was truly world-class.

The reds were also quite impressive. Although Greece's extensive temperature range can imprint a marked acidity on the grapes, I found several of the finished product to be well integrated and surprisingly balanced.

The Agiorgitiko grape, also known as St. George (it's Greek translation) from Pelopenesse, home of the best-known wine appellation, Nemea, yields dry, deeply cherry red. It's extremely tannic, cedary wine that reminded me of chewing wood chips---but, hey, I'm sure some of that dissipates with age. They say that flavor was partially the result of the ferrous red clay ribboned with limestone that the grapes were grown in.

Greece's pride and joy at the moment is the Xinomavro grape. The name itself means "black acid", denoting the sourness that, in Xinomavro's case, can be quite charming.

Called the "Pinot Noir" of Greece, Xinomavro is treated by some winemakers as the Pinot grapes are fermented in Burgundy: by cold maceration.

The first Xinomavro I tasted, an Alpha Estate from 2004 Florina/Macedonia, tasted as if the wine itself had, like a baby lamb destined for a Greek Easter dinner, fed upon wild herbs-oregano, thyme, wild grasses.

The next was lighter, the herbal note had digressed into sort of a redwood frond scent and the color had willowed back to a candied cherry. I was still intrigued.

The third, Tsantali Rapsani Reserve 2001, definitely reminded me a Bordeaux, despite the fact that none of the grapes have even been heard of by most average wine consumers.

Xinomavro, Krassato and Stavrato grown together at high altitudes next to Mount Olympus, are co-fermented like most Bordeaux and create a leathery wine with deep cherry and incense notes. This wine also had the herbal oregano note that made me salivate, and it, also, retailed at only $20.

There are 28 appellations in modern Greece for wine, eight of which are reserved for sweet wines, namely Muscats, Mavrodaphnes and Malvasias.

The Malvasia I tried, made by Douloufakis, was a honey-colored 2005 made of all Malvasia di Candia aromatica grapes. It was lovely, and reminded me of a Sauternes. It wasn't nearly as balanced, and was slightly thinner, but still, it screamed for foie gras and therefore naturally made my brain turn to Sauternes.

I didn't taste any Vin Santo there, but wanted to. It's been produced, as many wines have been, since ancient times. Nearby Italy registered the name "Vin Santo" but use it as an adjective to describe a style of wine. For Greeks, however, it's a regional wine description.

The message is loud and clear: Greek wine is back. Although many don't consider the high heat and windy conditions ideal for growing grapes, the North-facing slopes and high altitudes have made it work. Updated vini/viticultural techniques teamed with age-old grape varietals have proven to be worthy of notice. And for the price, admit it. These may be some of the best value wines of today.