My Round: The man who put the sparkle into supermarket wine

Now raise your glasses and wish a very happy retirement to the distinbuished Mr Brind... of Waitrose

Julian Brind looks every inch the old-school gentleman wine merchant. He is trim, upright of posture, and always dressed (when I see him, anyway) in a pinstripe suit. His manner is polished, courteous and solicitous. You can picture him in some club, explaining to a banker why he should buy at least three cases of all the First Growth clarets en primeur. There's only one problem with this picture: Brind works for Waitrose, and has done for 31 years. In his time there he has witnessed – and played a role in effecting – the most dramatic changes that have taken place in the UK wine trade.

When I read that Brind was planning to retire, I figured it was a good excuse to meet up and ask him a question or two. It turns out his path to wine began with a stint at Portland Cement after he'd left school and been told by his father to get a job. Another temporary job (as a gamekeeper) followed, then his dad pitched in again: "You have to get a proper job." The elder Brind worked in distilling but he guided his son to wine. "The people are nice and they seem to enjoy themselves."

So Brind began as a trainee for Brown and Pank, the wine division of Watney Mann, and was soon put in charge of the company's Chelsea bottling operation. Things didn't always go as planned. When Brind and his co-workers inadvertently put Nuits St Georges into the Chambertin bottles, his boss told him not to worry. "No one else will notice."

When Brind joined Waitrose, in 1971, selling wines in supermarkets was in its infancy. "Wine was just shoved on the shelves wherever there was room," he says. He was given a free hand, in keeping with Waitrose's policy of hiring good buyers and letting them get on with it. It supported his decision to study for the Master of Wine exam (MW), and he in turn expanded the buying team, which now has six members of whom three others are MWs.

Under Brind's guidance, the Waitrose list has come to be defined by its focus on individual wines from individual producers. Big brands do not dominate; nor do own-labels. Brind believes that the emphasis on branded wine "takes away the individuality and excitement", and laments the way their dominance is reinforced by discounts. "You get this cycle of promotions leading to demand for discounts and some people buying only wines that are on promotion. This spiral is a disaster for the real wine business." That's one reason that Waitrose emphasises staff training. "It's vital to have real specialists in stores who can say: 'Buy this Hardy's wine but also try this one.'"

Waitrose's current range is replete as always with interesting wines sold by no other supermarket. Examples include whites for warm-weather drinking that stimulate the brain as well as quenching thirst. For instance, Wickham Special Release Fumé 2000 (£7.25), all the way from Hampshire, bears a strangely delicious tanginess carried aloft by refreshing acidity and a touch of oak. The latest vintage (2001) of Zenato Lugana is as good as ever, excellently balanced and top value at £5.49. Wilkie Estate Organic Verdelho 2001 (£6.99) from Australia is an indecently attractive cocktail of peachy, honeysuckle fruit. And a special purchase from the Mosel, Urziger Würzgarten Spätlese 1995, Karl Erbes (£6.99), has beautiful floral aromas and spicy flavours with a touch of classic Riesling "petrol" notes. It may be one of the best £7 wines in the country.

Brind will play an occasional role at Waitrose, which is good news for us all. You may never have known his name before, but you are in his debt. He leaves Waitrose's wine offering at the top of the supermarket league tables. I hope it stays there.