Part one ended in a Tuscan osteria where everything on the table came from the valley outside. This one starts in a pub in an Australian wine region, vines on every side, where I asked what local wines they had and got a blank look.

I’ve just spent some time in the hills between eastern Tuscany and north-western Umbria, and I kept running the same small experiment without meaning to. Walk into an ordinary osteria in a town nobody outside the province has heard of. Ask for the house wine. Ask where the oil on the table came from, and the cheese, and the meat in the ragù. The answer, almost every time, is a place you can see from the window.