Confessions of a Wino

Shoe shops are fine places, especially if, like me, you like shoes.  There is nothing like the smell of a shoe shop.  Intoxicating and attractive, but I don’t eat shoes, I wear them.

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Is the UK banking system about to collapse?  The current credit crunch has resulted in Northern Rock taking an “emergency” loan from the Bank of England.   Banks normally lend to each other but when times are tight, the BoE is there to ensure that confidence in the banking system is retained by being a lender of last resort (albeit at premium rates).  The Old Lady, and most financial commentators keep emphasising that Northern Rock is fully solvent and there is no crisis.  And yet Northern Rock customers are queuing round the block  to withdraw their savings.

We all know, from bitter personal experience, that building confidence in anything takes an age, whilst successful attempts to undermine confidence are normally sub-second torpedo strikes.

After building my confidence in several New Zealand Sauvignons I realised that Pinot Noirs from the land of kiwi were gaining in reputation, and promised to try one or two.  I didn’t have to queue round the block for this Wither Hills Pinot Noir 2004, which I simply ordered online.

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What a great sporting weekend.  The English winning at cricket (handsomely defeating India), and promptly, but not all that convincingly, despatching the USA at rugby in the World Cup.  Even the hapless Steve McClaren had his moment in the sun sending the Israeli football team packing having thrice, without reply, rubbed their noses in the excrement of their sloppy defence.

But the résultat du jour was on Friday.  The French were humbled by Argentina in the opening game of the Rugby Union World Cup - a triumph of gritty Malbec over refined claret?  So in my own personal campaign to cheer up the old wine nation I nipped down to a British supermarket (Tesco) and bought some French produce – a can o’ wine to be precise.

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I have never been to the Ritz.  This maybe because I can’t afford it, or it could equally be because, to enjoy the Ritz fayre, I would have to bypass The Wolseley, right next door at 160 Piccadilly.  This is something I have not yet achieved.

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Is it just me, or has anyone else noticed that the latest season of CSI Miami is getting totally preposterous?  David Caruso as Lieutenant Horatio Caine was, after all, one of the coolest police officers on TV.  But the other night, with less than four minutes until a bomb destroyed a car in his compound, he calmly sat in it, then drove it down a 40 mile freeway, across two bridges, through a set of traffic lights, past numerous residences and deposited it on a beach (thankfully free of sunbathers) and coolly walked away from the car as it exploded in the background.  Puh-lease!  I’m going to stick to the vintage episodes when, for me, Caine was the perfect successor to the dysfunctional Las Vegas based Grissom, who himself was getting a bit preposterous.

Whilst on the topic of vintages, I found occasion to open a bottle I’ve been keeping for a few years.

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England were playing India at Trentbridge so I thought I’d pop along with my mate Alan.  We spent the first half of the day waiting to see if any play was possible.  Even though we were in the ground, the only news was coming from the BBC website via my mobile phone.  By lunch we were fed up waiting so went outside to find a place to eat.

On Radcliffe Road we found a Greek-Cypriot eaterie – Pappas.  Founded by the fantastically named couple Christodoulos and Carol Papachristodoulou, surely this was going to be authentic and it was.

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I read an interesting piece in the Times this week about the super high price of Bordeaux 2006.  Leave it alone.  It’s all been purchased by far eastern investors who are going to lose their money anyway.

Stick to 2005 and (as I keep saying) the cheaper marques.  For example Château Reignac de Tizac, Bordeaux Superieur.

The initial aroma was of iron rust.  A mineral, earthy and “muddy” wine.  Flavours of root vegatable perhaps beetroot, carrot, swede (turnip).  Some spicy peppery notes of watercress?

Not a particularly delicate wine and not one I would drink on its own, but went very well with chargrilled lamb.  You know that meat and veg go together well!

OK so not the most glowing review and not the best 2005 Bordeaux I have yet tasted, but I would still recommend that you try it.  This one came from the  Wine Society at a paltry £5.25.

Above all I urge you to try any cheap 2005 Bordeaux you can find from wherever you buy your wine and leave 2006 to the “investors”.

I am a big fan of Oliver Sweeney.  No, he is not a pop star, nor an artist, but a shoemaker.  Think of him as the Paul Smith of shoes.  Designs for the guy who still thinks he is younger than he is, but appreciates quality without the stuffiness of “city” attire.  They are fun shoes but they are not cheap.  The killer feature is that unlike most shoes you may buy (albeit at less than half the price Oliver charges), his shoes actually fit first time and you don’t need to break them in.  Only one pair of Ollies have I ever suffered blisters from.  Compare that to Barker’s, Church’s, Grenson’s, Cheaney or other leading (and expensive) brands that can take weeks to break in.  So why can’t winemakers in Bordeaux make wines that one can drink straight away?  Where is the Oliver Sweeney of the Bordelais?

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I did once manage to get some sort of degree from Leeds University Business School which is not exactly the Ivy League.  Still it stood me in good stead for being comprehensible – occasionally.  Sadly this was not true when I visited The Ivy with the wife.

Being in the West End we opened with a quick glass at the Cork & Bottle on Cranbourn Street and swiftly moved on to the surprisingly quiet location next to the St Martin’s Theatre where The Mousetrap has been playing since 1436:

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After numerous weeks of seemingly endless rain, I was close to completing my ark.  However, still no closer to cutting the lawn which was starting to look like a very green field with very long grass on it.  Then one evening we had a breakthrough.  The sun shone and I went outside looking for pairs of worms, slugs, blackbirds, snails and magpies to take with me on my maiden voyage.  They all seemed to be absent, so in desperation I mowed the lawns.

Now, my front lawn is on an angle of about 45 degrees, so I have to mow it wearing golf spikes, but with a petrol mower, this is the gardening equivalent of climbing the north face of Everest in a t-shirt and a thong.

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