Sunday, somewhere past one o'clock. The oven has been on for hours, the windows have steamed up, and there is a joint resting under foil while the potatoes finish crisping. Someone asks the only question left worth answering: what are we drinking? Get this right and the whole table lifts. Get it wrong and a very good lunch limps along behind a bottle that fights the food instead of flattering it.

The good news is that the Sunday roast is one of the most forgiving meals there is to match. The better news is that a handful of simple ideas will carry you through every version of it, from a rib of beef to a roast chicken to a table that has gone entirely vegetarian. You do not need a sommelier at your shoulder. You need to think for a moment about what is actually on the plate.

And no, the answer is not automatically red. It usually is red, and we will come to why. But the real question is never red or white. It is about weight, richness, and the savoury depth the oven builds into everything it touches.

Start with the plate, not the rulebook

Forget the old line about red meat and red wine as though it were law handed down on a tablet. The useful version of the rule is gentler: match the weight of the wine to the weight of the food. A big, muscular red will trample a delicate roast chicken. A pale, wispy red will vanish under a dripping rib of beef. Pour something that meets the dish in the middle and everyone is happy, the cook included, who has earned a glass.

Roasting also does something worth knowing. The high, dry heat caramelises edges and deepens flavour, which is why almost anything from the oven wants a wine with a little savoury character rather than pure sweet fruit. Keep that in your back pocket and the rest is detail.

Roast beef wants a wine with a backbone

Beef is the heavyweight of the Sunday table: iron-rich meat, a charred crust, a jug of gravy. It needs a red with tannin and structure to stand up to all that, and the classic answer is claret. A good red Bordeaux, with its firm Cabernet grip and its cassis-and-cedar depth, was more or less designed for a Sunday joint. Château Batailley, a dependable Pauillac from the 1855 classed growths, does exactly this: dark fruit, a little pencil-shaving elegance, and enough tannic spine to cut through the fat and reset your palate for the next forkful.

If you would rather look beyond France, a proper Shiraz answers the same call with more sunshine and spice. Henschke Mount Edelstone, a single-vineyard Eden Valley Shiraz, brings dark-berry richness and a peppery lift that loves a well-browned rib. New World Cabernet works too. Chile's Don Melchor is Cabernet with a suit and tie on: structured, serious, the sort of bottle that quietly turns a Sunday lunch into an occasion.

Roast lamb loves something savoury

Lamb is sweeter and more herbal than beef, and it takes beautifully to reds with a savoury, sun-warmed edge. This is Rioja and Ribera del Duero country: Tempranillo has a way of echoing the rosemary and the roasting juices without ever shouting over them. Valdaya Mirum, a restrained, old-parcel Ribera del Duero built on red fruit and fine grain rather than heavy oak, is precisely what a leg of lamb wants.

The southern Rhône is the other natural home. A Châteauneuf-du-Pape from le Clos du Caillou, Grenache-led and full of garrigue and warm dark fruit, tastes almost as though it grew up in the same field the lamb grazed. Mint sauce and all, it holds its own.

Chicken and pork: this is where you go lighter

Here is where people most often over-pour. A roast chicken is a delicate thing, and a pork loin is only a shade richer. Reach for a big, brooding red and you will flatten the bird entirely. Go lighter and brighter instead. A cool-climate Pinot Noir is the perfect Sunday all-rounder: silky, red-fruited, with just enough acidity to keep the gravy honest. A Bourgogne Rouge from Domaine Sébastien Magnien is honest, unshowy Burgundy at a fair price, and it will flatter a chicken far more than any heavyweight could. If you like your Pinot with a touch more flesh, Mahi's Marlborough Pinot Noir brings darker cherry and a little more weight for a pork roast.

And do not rule out white. A roast chicken with all the trimmings is one of the great homes for a rounded, lightly oaked Chardonnay, which has the body to keep up and the freshness to cut the butter. Pork with apple sauce is happy there too. Nobody at the table is going to complain.

Those two bottles just about cover a Sunday table between them: the claret for the big roasts, the Burgundy for everything lighter. Keep one of each in the rack and you will rarely be caught out, whatever the butcher hands you.

The nut roast and the vegetarian table

A vegetarian roast is not a thing to be drunk around apologetically. Mushrooms, roasted roots and a good nut roast carry real savoury depth, and they suit a medium-bodied red with soft tannins and plenty of fruit. An old-vine Garnacha from Atalaque, juicy, peppery and generous, is exactly the wine that makes a meat-free Sunday feel like a treat rather than a sacrifice. At its price, it is also one of the great everyday bottles full stop.

If you remember one thing

Do not overthink it. Weight for weight, savoury with savoury, and a little more acidity than you think you need to handle the gravy. The Sunday roast is a generous, forgiving meal, and the wine only has to keep up rather than perform. Pour a touch more than you planned, because someone always goes back for seconds, and the whole point of a Sunday roast is that nobody is in a hurry to leave the table.