Champagne has been credited with having power over the heart for longer than you might think. In 1676, the dramatist Sir George Etherege wrote, "To the Mall and the park/Where we love till tis dark/ Then sparkling Champaign puts an end to their reign/It quickly recovers/ Poor languishing lovers,/Makes us frolic and gay, and drowns all sorrow." As Tom Stevenson points out in his Encyclopedia Of Champagne And Sparkling Wine, this is the first written mention of champagne anywhere in the world (and probably proves that it was invented by the British, not the French, who were then suspicious of fizzing).

Three hundred years on, and the sparkling wine is firmly established as the drink of choice for giddy affairs, celebrations and high living. If its record sales - we got through some 37m bottles last year - are anything to go by, we should in theory be more loved-up and decadent than ever.

So are we? It's true that where once a flirtatious couple might have closed the deal over a single, special bottle, they now seem to spend the first few weeks of their relationship drenched in the stuff. Virtually every PR launch, from a film premiere to the opening of a department-store bed (a real example), is awash with fizz. I even know people who drink only champagne - and in such copious quantities that they swig it from tumblers clanking with ice to keep it cool and moderate the bubbles. This is not entirely a good thing.

Champagne is beginning to suffer from the smoked salmon effect of becoming such an everyday luxury that people expect to be able to afford it at all times. So, instead of buying good stuff, they swill back a ropey cheapie when the money would have been much better spent on a decent bottle of still wine.

Still, it's easy to see why we succumb: being offered a glass of champagne still gives a spritz of excitement, a tingle of conspiracy and makes you feel valued. There is something wonderfully dizzying in the bubbles and the heady expense. So a word of advice to would-be seducers planning to deploy champagne on Valentine's Day. First, do it the day before and win spontaneity points - there is nothing attractive about prescribed romance. Second, Valentine's Day isn't the greatest time to go over the top, so keep it simple. Try the elegant Taittinger Brut Reserve NV (from Tesco, Waitrose, Thresher, Asda, Oddbins, RRP £27.99, and Majestic, £29.99, or buy two at £22.49 each) if you prefer a lighter touch; or Louis Roederer Brut Premier NV (Waitrose, £26.99, Oddbins, £27.99, Majestic, £28.75, or buy two at £23 each) if a richer, fuller style is more to your taste.

Three wines to fall in love with

Pour a good wine, and the chances are that your intended will fall in love - though maybe not with you. My friend Claire recently told me about her 'wine epiphany'. The cause was a £7.99 red: 'Not too rich, with a soft, vanilla thing about it. It's the first time I've been excited about a wine, and I've been dreaming about it ever since.' The object of her affections was Conde de Valdemar Crianza 2001, a rioja made in quite a modern style (in that it is fruitier, has a clearer structure and is less likely to bring to mind the gloomy great hall of a medieval castle than a traditional rioja). Matured in American oak, it is confident and suave, laced with sweet, red berry flavours. We drank it with a saffron and artichoke paella, and Claire was equally enamoured second time around.

My second wine is a prosecco, which has for too long been thought of as a poor man's champagne. Although it fills the same aperitif slot, it is nothing of the sort. The two shouldn't really be compared, but I'm going to do so by saying I'd have a good prosecco over a cheap champagne any day. Bisol Prosecco Crede 2003 (Bibendum Wine, £9.97, 020-7722 5577; delivery is £15, or free if you spend over £250) is a top-flight example. Its makers are trying to market it as a drink people will 'brand-call' in posh bars, so it's designed to the nines with a striking label. Even so, it is delicious: dry, clean, fresh, and as airy and light as goosedown - with bursts of pear flavour and tiny sharp bubbles. Drink with antipasti, of course.

Last, Paolo Manzone Nebbiolo d'Alba Mirine 2002 (Adnams, £9.50) is a good buy if you enjoy the perfumed, chestnut and violetty scents of this north Italian wine. A red wine and mushroom risotto would be the ideal accompaniment.