Remarkable Roscioli wine tasting is a must for any Roman visit

If you're a wine lover, there's one name you need in Rome: Alessandro Pepe.

Alessandro is the sommelier for Roscioli, a family-run collection of restaurant, bakery, deli and wine-tasting facility in the winding streets near the Campo de Fiori. His knowledge of Italian wines is, unsurprisingly, encyclopedic ... but he's well versed on the rest of the world's offerings. Combine this with stereotypically Italian passion and enthusiasm, a fantastic sense of humour and completely fluent English and you get one of the most informative and entertaining wine tastings I've ever attended. With Alessandro's assurance that he regularly switches out his wines, this is the activity I'd put on the top of my list for a return trip to Rome.

Roscioli's comprehensive tasting is aligned with food matching; you're not just sampling wines here, but dining on a series of small plates that show off some Italian classics and provide the foundation on which Alessandro builds his bottle selection.  At 70 euro per person for a minimum of eight wines (we ended up tasting 10) and a long progression of nibbles that adds up to a substantial meal, this would have been good value for money even without the enlightened commentary. There's also the delight of the company. The tasting takes place around a large, high table that accommodates up to 12. You all love wine and food, or you wouldn't be there, and that's inevitably the start of good conversations. By the evening's mid-point, it felt more like a dinner party of friends than a table of strangers. That's a feeling encouraged by Alessandro, who's great at drawing all of the guests into the conversation. At the end of the evening, you're all left to help yourself to anything left in bottles (there was plenty) and it becomes a proper party.

My wine revelations from the evening? Unsurprisingly, my love affair with the Sicilians continues. The sparkling wine that started the evening (Terzavia, Marco de Bartoli) was made from grillo grapes and gave off a heady whiff of apricot. It comes from the same region that produces Marsala, a product almost exclusively made for the Anglo-Saxon market. The Italians cleverly keep the sparkling grillo for themselves. Two courses later, as we tried Sicilian reds from Etna and Noto, I was delighted to realise that my trip tasting 'round the volcano meant I could identify the distinctive taste of the area. You get the woody, chocolate and liquorice tones of a heavy red wine, pulled to lightness by the minerality that the vines suck out of the volcanic soil. Served with a taste of red tuna preserved in peppery olive oil, and sweet-and-sour caponata, the combination demonstrated how wine is almost as good as travel. A bite, a sip, close eyes ... and I'm back on the balcony in Taormina.

Alessandro's enthusiastic championing of the Barolo region, plus tastes of Sobrero's Ciabot Tanasio 2011 and Palladino's Ornato 2010, have me thinking this should be the location of our next girls' tasting trip. A small region, passionate about quality, restricting space and resisting the temptation to incorporate lesser quality fields into their DOCG, this bit of Northeastern Italy between Genoa and Turin mirrors the quality and tradition of Burgundy. The wines are dark and fruity, yet with enough earthy, woody tones to bring an interesting complexity.

The standout of the night for me, however, was my old, hard-to-find friend, schioppettino. I've loved this grape variety since being introduced to it many years ago by the manager of Venice's Enoteca al Volto (that city's best wine bar, IMHO), and have jumped at it whenever it's on a restaurant wine list. It's a choice that will always surprise and impress sommeliers, since it'a a tiny-production secret few have been let into. The standard description of schioppetino, which means "little gunshot", is a medium-bodied, Rhone-like wine with a dark colour and notes of violet, raspberry and pepper. The Bressan 2008 lived up to expectations, my only disappointment being that the spicy sausage we tasted with it was too bold for its subtle sophistication. This is a wine that deserves an equally special food; perfection with stuffed rabbit loin or grouse. But that's far beyond the complexity of the food you'll enjoy at Riscoli.

That's not to criticise it; simply to acknowledge that when you're getting a series of small plates at a moderate price, you shouldn't expect elaborate main courses. The menu is mostly cheeses and cured meats, true to Roscioli's origins as a salumeria. If you think Italy is summed up in prosciutto di parma, mozzarella and grating-quality parmesan, come here to have your eyes opened. The most unique of the tastes that evening was the burrata.

The majority of Italian meats and cheeses travel well, and if you have a good Italian store (like The Italian Shop in Maidenhead, England, or Viviano's in St. Louis, USA) you can get your hands on most things. But burrata is supposed to be consumed within 24 hours of its creation, and is considered past its prime at 48 ... so is not easy to find. It's been a trendy feature of high end menus in London for the past year or two, but I've never eaten it as fresh as it was at Roscoli. Firm mozzarella on the outside, a core of gooey, buttery cream spilling out when you puncture its sphere, burrata is the cheesy equivalent of a chocolate fondant.

Other cheeses included fresh ricotta served with different orange jams, buffalo mozzarella, cravanzina, a wonderfully pungent pecorino from Monti sabini, a 36-month-old parmigiano regiano only recently cut and therefore still "living" and testun ... a mix of sheep and goat's milk ... wrapped in chestnut leaves. There was proper pesto genovese, four varieties of cured pork and two warm dishes: pasta all'Amatriciana (simple, well-balanced tomatoes and chili) and a traditional Roman meatball. Which seemed remarkably similar to my mother's traditional Sicilian meatball. I didn't confirm if their recipe combined ground beef, pork and veal slow simmered in a pot of tomato sauce for hours, but I wouldn't be surprised.

My only warning about the wine tasting at Roscoli: if you have any allergies or special needs, be very assertive. I'd emailed in advance about my husband's tomato allergy (always a challenge in Italy), while the couple next to us had notified them that he was a vegetarian. The standard menu came to both. Roscioli managed impromptu work-arounds on the tomato front (double pesto, more prosciutto) but the vegetarian had to skip quite a few courses. I suspect multiple and more assertive emails could have sorted that in advance.