Confessions of a Wino

Anthony Flinn is a bit of a food legend in Leeds.  His impressive CV includes a two year stint under Ferran Adrià at the world’s “best” restaurant, El Bulli.  Flinn’s own flagship restaurant, Anthony’s, is perpetually tipped for a Michelin star.  His latest project, Piazza, opened in late 2008, is situated in one of the most impressive, historically beautiful buildings in the North of England – Leeds Corn Exchange.  Anthony’s footprint includes an impressive 125 seater brasserie, a patisserie, bakery, chocolatier and delicatessen.  Wine, however, is another science.

My opening exchange with the waitress:  Gevrey Chambertin Domaine Heresztyn 2005 please – what temperature would you serve that?  “About two above room”. Ouch, no WART awards here.  Please can I have an ice bucket?  “Yes sir, no problem.”  Things are starting to improve already.  After all, the wine list looks well thought out, and superbly priced, and the menu looks bistro chic.

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I am bored of talking about water, never mind drinking it.  Still or sparkling?  Bottle or tap?  Caledonian Spring or Corporation Pop?  Yawn.

In any case my detox has been a complete waste of time in many respects.  After 12 days of punishing exercise, no alcohol and, ahem, minimal caffeine (see below) I have finally lost a solitary, lonesome pound from my chunky Christmas frame.

So to celebrate I have now stopped banging on about detox and focussed energies on writing up some old notes.

It’s a bit like Audrey II, the man-eating plant in Little Shop of Horrors.  My liver is taunting me to feed it some alcohol.  But whilst resisting the siren songs of Bacchus is the easy bit of my new year detox, my lily-livered response to caffeine addiction has been unmitigated capitulation.  Early foreplay with Earl Grey has now escalated to full frontal intercourse with Ceylon Orange Pekoe, through Queen Anne and even onto (gasp) sturdy robust Assam, the foundation of builders’ tea, in which well brewed cups, a teaspoon can stand as erect and proud as a pleasure dome on the road to Xanadu.  Rogering my central nervous system senseless.  Mmmmm feels good.

So whilst I have no contemporary wine experiences to write about, perhaps I ought to catch up with some old notes from 2009.  Yes, I’ll do that right now.  Oh hang on, I have to exercise first.

There’s always a danger that things can get a tad introspective at conferences like EWBC, so it is great to get the opportunity to broaden ones horizons out in the field, or terroir, if you will.  A trip to see how cork is produced was, inevitably, sponsored by Amorim, who almost silently supply one quarter of the world’s natural wine closures.  A heavyweight, if there were ever such a thing, in the cork world.

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I am in Lisbon for the European Wine Bloggers Conference and there are a few missing faces from last year which is a shame.  The Italians are notable absentees, for example.  However, the event is at least twice the size of last year’s and superbly well organised by Ryan and Gabi Opaz and Robert McIntosh.

If you are sad enough to want live updates you can follow me on Twitter at @tiptoptaps.

If you are even sadder and want to see everyone at the conference tweeting on exactly the same event every other second, follow the hashtag #EWBC.

I was pretty chipper about my Combine Harvester, installed in 2008 at Bathgate Towers.  It has kept my finer bottles in tip top condition and is a super talking point when anyone remotely interested in wine visits.

But I am a mere amateur according to a book just published in the US.  Living with Wine, by Samantha Nestor, is actually better read in pictures (impressively furnished by Andrew French).

From swish New York bachelor pads to decadent Napa Valley wine clubs I can only drool at the fantastic cellars containing fantastic wines – many not even American!  The intersection of architecture, interior design and fine wine is surely one of the greatest causes of wine envy in the oenological world?

Just one thing – can we have a repeat of this book but focussed on UK cellars?

Living with Wine is published by Clarkson Potter ($75), a division of Random House and whilst my copy came from the US, I understand it will be available in the UK soon.

Just in case you are casing my joint.  Just in case you are licking your lips, not at the food reviews, but at the prospect of raiding my home refrigerator to feed the dog whilst you pack my telly into my car and drive off into the night.  Just in case you were thinking of reneging on a debt whilst I enjoy a short break in the Big Apple, I must inform you that I have been home for a few days now.  I am just slow at writing up the notes.

A few more postcards to come yet.

How can New Yorkers afford to attend Yankees matches?

In addition to watching the game, in true New York style, every opportunity is offered to lighten your wallet. Here is the full shopping list:

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A bit of renewed interest (and support) in my campaign to get wines served at the right temperature but I fear I am fighting a losing battle.

I dined at Fino last week, an upmarket tapas place on Charlotte Street, London.  I ordered a bottle of Crianza and asked what temperature it would be served at.  The Spanish waiter handed me a bottle from the shelf behind that was about 25°C.  I volunteered that the people of La Rioja would never serve it so warm and was met with a resigned shrug.  “The customers complain if we serve it at the recommended temperature”.

Similar conversations I have had in numerous restaurants across the country always fall into two categories.  The first is the Fino example where the waiter points to the ignorance of the British public.  The second is where the waiter is one of the ignorami.  On more than one occasion I have been told that I cannot have an ice bucket for my red wine.

We Brits have it so drilled into our psyche that red wine should be tropical and white wine arctic that I wonder if we will ever change.

You might ask who the hell I am to determine what temperature a wine should be served at and people should drink to personal taste.  I totally agree with that, but it is not me who makes the suggestion, it is the person who made the wine and by listening to them, I have much improved my enjoyment of wine.  Furthermore, almost everyone I have forced to try a red in the teens rather than twenties has considered it a revelation.  It is a shame to spend so much money on wine and not get maximum enjoyment out of it.  But live and let live eh?

So if you run a restaurant, I understand that you have to play to your customer base.  Just please don’t look at me like I’m a pig at an H1N1 conference if I ask for an ice bucket when you serve me a red from your wine oven.

I don’t know why it has taken me so long to wander over to Berry Bros & Rudd wine blog.

I found it quite refreshing actually.  That sounds condescending because it implies that I expected it to be all stuffy and “establishment”.  But it’s a right interesting read, much more in the tone of enthusiast than salesman.

You might want to wander over right now and express your opinion on a hot topic.  BBR is running a poll on cork vs Stelvin.  We’ve all seen screw caps on our Kiwi Sauvignons for donkeys’ years, but what about top claret?

I’ve added the site to my blogroll.  And by the way, I voted for screw cap.

I wonder if they will one day run a poll on my WART campaign?