I've fallen in love with a grape variety that's entirely new to me. I can neither pronounce nor spell it with ease in its native language but am told that its name translates as Bullseye, which strikes me as a pretty good name for a red wine that is round and fruity, with so much charm that it makes you smile when you taste it. Certainly better on export markets, I would have thought, than its more common name, ?küzg?zü.

But this was only one of many new grape variety friends I made on a recent short trip to Turkey, which is, believe it or not, rapidly developing a wine culture. The number of Turks who have signed up for wine courses is now comfortably into four figures. Seyla Ergenekon's Guide to Turkish Wines (Remzi Kitabevi), the first such book in English, profiles 35 wineries but there is now a positive rash of new ones funded by Turks who have made a fortune in other business (textiles to wine is a particularly common route). Istanbul's host of smart, modern restaurants provide the chief showcase for Turkey's new wines – indeed the biggest producers fall over each other in their efforts to secure listings in them.

One young couple is attempting to instil a spirit of co-operation into the cut-throat Turkish wine business by establishing a generic body, Wines of Turkey. They managed to persuade 10 Turkish wine producers to exhibit together at the London Wine Trade Fair last year but this year there was but one, Likya, a promising newcomer at 1,100 metres above the holiday destination of Antalya.