Confessions of a Wino

Under the High Line, one of the seven wonders of New York City, where peace and tranquility mix with rare greenery on a former raised platform railway converted to a unique public park, lies a restaurant of some repute.  A place that, although set amongst meatpacking factories, has thoughtfully empathised with, and even beaten a path for other trendy venues to raise the Standard of this eponymously named district of New York City.  And yet a “Grill” that has remarkably few items on the menu that might ever see a char broiler.   For example, I had oysters followed by shrimp fettuccini.  Although I use the word ‘followed’ in a loose literal sense, or perhaps as its own antonym since the main courses arrived before the starters. This was one of a number of service fiascos we experienced when lunching there on the last day of a New York trip.

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In February I sampled the 2006 Pinot Noir from this brand and gave it a good account.  A 2008 appeared recently, I figured it was worth another go.  But Pinot Noir is notoriously fickle and as a result is often expensive.  Is it possible to make a decent one and then ship it half way across the world and then sell it for a pittance?

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I was in New York City a couple of months ago and stumbled across a wine shop on the Upper West Side.  I posed the shop guy a challenge.  I wanted to take just one bottle back to the UK.  What would he recommend?  Something American, good value, underrated, and not available in the UK.

He suggested that I see through the marketing gimmicks of Cycles Gladiator and try the Cabernet Sauvignon at about 11 bucks.  I’ve not tasted it yet.

At a California Wines event in London last month, I stumbled across the same brand.  A number of thoughts raged.  It’s available in the UK!  And they do a Pinot Noir!  And it’s the same cheesy label!  And it tastes annoyingly good…

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Blimey!  I didn’t mean to start World War III with my cast aside comment that Mark Hughes might not be the right manager for Man City.  Even though I regularly tell anyone who will listen that I never approved of his appointment in the first place, even I, the Bathsheba Everdene to Mr Hughes’ Gabriel Oak, acknowledged that the least worst option was to give him more time to prove himself.  Instead the Man City hierarchy (and I smell the ruthlessly inept Garry Cook behind this one) make us look fools again, executing a manager change with the dexterity, care and good intentions of Fred West laying a new patio.

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I’ve held my tongue with remarkable virtue on the subject of Man City this season.  Although I never favoured Mark Hughes’ appointment, neither do I support chopping and changing every five minutes.  So I have been inclined to give him more time.  After tonight’s abject 3-0 defeat at Spurs, I admit my patience is being stretched like a City banker’s tax return.

More time is something I ought to devote to US wines, largely ignored on this site – only 14 of Big Sam’s offerings ever receiving the courtesy of a mention.  So here is a little redress.

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With superstars like Robert de Niro sponsoring Tribeca as an upcoming area (and selflessly trousering a good portion of the profits of Tribeca Grill), despite the proliferation of convenient subway stops, there was only one way to arrive.  I asked our Taxi Driver why he was tanking down these Mean Streets like a Raging Bull.  He said that given the Heat, and whilst he was not the King of Comedy, he was a Goodfella and, put simply, The Mission was to Meet the Parents, and not least, The Godfather (Part II) before the Midnight Run.  Before I had time to Analyze This, it was Showtime – the waitresses were Flawless and it was time to Meet the Fockers.

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An open top “Tommy the tourist” bus in New York is indisputably the best place to learn about New York culture.  Well, if you believe the tour guides (and assuming that you tip them enough).  I learnt that if you want to eat cheaply in NYC there are two options:  McDonalds, or Restaurant Row on W46th St between 8th and 9th.

Bangkok House is not McDonalds, but it certainly isn’t expensive either.

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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.

Is there anything that could make me feel more at home on my first night in New York, than an old fashioned English Victorian style chop house that has been around since 1885.  However, comparing this to, say, Sam’s Chop House, is a bit like putting The Oxo Tower up against the Empire State Building.

They are both fine examples of art deco architecture but one is dainty and proportioned, whilst the other is just f##king massive.  I am not sure I have seen a restaurant with so many rooms, so many more covers  than the ESB has floors (there are 102 since you ask and 1860 steps if you walk up – I didn’t).  Keen’s is enormous.  And they serve meat portions to match.

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Borgata is the newest and smartest casino in AC and way out of the reach of my meagre finances, so, naturally, I dashed there to see if I could find some decent tiffin. No such thing as cheap. Even the taxi from Caesar’s (tacky) Palace was $15 for a mere 3 minute dash across town.

Tucked away in a wee cranny of this Cathedral to St Cajetan is a restaurant that sounds like an ice hockey match being played to Eine Kleine Nachtmusik.  It is one of about a dozen eating places in the casino, ranging in quality from Jack High to Four of a Kind.  We chose this one hoping for something better than soggy chips but cheaper than a Royal Flush. 

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