Now, you either believe all that or you don't, and, by and large, New World producers don't. They prefer to emphasise the grape variety, reckoning the notion of terroir is hokum. Merlot remains first and foremost merlot wherever it's planted, they say. The effects of terroir are secondary, if not negligible.

Herein lies the great ideological divide between old and new wine worlds. On one side, wine articulates a land-based culture; on the other, it's, well, a jolly good drink.

Trulli, Patricelli and the team are firmly in the culture club. Their wines are intended to speak of the sun, earth and (who knows?) soul of Abruzzo. That's their point, and sales pitch. Of course, having Jarno's name on the bottle also helps, even if it is printed small and only on the back. It is, though, merely a kick- start.

"We can sell initially because of my image," says Trulli. "But, if the wines aren't good, we won't sell any more. We've got to keep pushing quality to the limit."

Frankly, they aren't doing too badly. In its 2001 incarnation, the domain's top wine, Podere Castorani, is a belter: structured, elegant and full-bodied, as a proper wine buff might say. It's one for sniffing, swirling and looking contemplative about. The second wine, Coste-delle-Plaie 2003, is slightly softer, easier but still an item of substance. And sipping it on Jarno's splendid hilltop certainly seems to do the right thing in the right place (which may be another definition of terroir).

In his own words, Jarno's "a quiet man who likes simple things". These don't include books or soccer, but do include pizza. And making fine wine and, um, becoming F1 world champion.

"Probably I'll beat [Fernando] Alonso next year," he says.