Confessions of a Wino

I’m just back from a week in New York. What to drug me, to confuse my brain, to get me to sleep earlier than 5 a.m. so I can get out of bed at a reasonable hour tomorrow?

I used to buy more wine from The Sunday Times Wine Club but I think it lost its way, or maybe I grew out of it. However, I still subscribe to their President’s Cellar offer which delivers half a dozen thoughtfully selected wines at about £20 per bottle every six months. When one is regularly relied upon by friends and colleagues to divine the best value bottles at restaurants, wine bars and strip clubs, it’s nice to let someone else do the choosing occasionally.

This 2005 Meursault must have been despatched some years ago because the recommended drink by date is 2011. Far from past its best, I love the peachy pears, hives of honey with a buzz of subtle but earthy lavender. Although I wouldn’t recommend it for your one-year old, it makes for a decent adult soother. Good night.

Lemony smell, bright yellow colour – sounds like a “golden shower”?

Fortunately it tastes of pomodorino tomatoes on toasted ciabatta.  Superb with pan fried salmon and new potatoes.

As ever, don’t mask the fine flavours by over-icing.  Take WART advice and serve at 10-12°C.

Mine came from the Sunday Times Wine Club, President’s Cellar 6 monthly case, which regular readers will know implies about £20 per bottle.  I’d say this one is well worth it, and drinking well now.

A London based PR company sent me this fab bottle of Chablis but I can’t find out where to source it in the UK so you may have to go to France if you want to try it (seems to be readily available in the US, however).

As a WART fan member, I was pleased to see the label recommended serving temperature was 10-12 degrees, about twice the temperature of the average UK fridge.

The wine was grapefruity, tangy and yet with the stainless steel flintiness you expect from a good Chablis.  More zingy than a Kiwi Sauvignon Blanc, and with a finish longer than a David Cameron speech (but without the gaffes).

If you can find it in the UK, do let me know.  I’d like some more.  Oh!  It goes perfectly with Camembert.

In England it is asparagus time.  Time to celebrate!  Surely there is no better flavour than some fresh (cut today) asparagus lightly seasoned and simply pan fried in butter.

Well, I am prepared to reveal that the dish can be improved upon.  Adding a glass of Chablis is like adding a spoon of Dijon mustard to a French dressing – sort of essential*.

You could do worse than this William Fevre, which I picked up from the Wine Society for £13.95.  At time of writing the 2008 had replaced the 2007 at the same price.  Not cheap but a solid example of this under-rated genre.

With the zing of Sauvignon Blanc, the smoothness of Albariño and the class of Chardonnay (we were yet again reminded in this World Cup year, on the day that Fabio named his final 23, that form is temporary), this Domaine William Fevre is perfect with the noble spring vegetable.  The flintiness perfectly offsets the buttery, almost yeasty flavour of the asparagus.

* Other dressings are available.

My favourite gastro-pub in the whole wide world is situated in the Yorkshire Dales near Skipdale (for Emmerdale fans that is just a few miles from Hotton).  Back in the real world, Hetton village is a mere cockstride from Rylstone, famous for bra-less jam-makers.

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It is all too easy to be sniffy about the major wine brands when you’ve had your nose in the books of Parker and Robinson.  But have you tried anything from Chilean producer Concha y Toro lately?  Or the sub brands Cono Sur and Casillero del Diablo?  Interesting stuff and generally high quality, but in the UK, I remember the Australians as being first in the queue to bring wine to the proletariat via supermarket and pub alike.

Aside from the ubiquitous Jacob’s Creek, I recall Hardy’s as being a brand leader. So when my neighbour, Peter, brought a bottle of Varietal Range Chardonnay round to my barbie, I was first insulted, then dismissive and finally intrigued.  Obviously, in Peter’s presence I sniffed at it, parked it in the corner and turned to open a bottle of something exclusive and French (albeit cheap and ropey).

Curiosity got the better of me this evening and I opened the bottle.

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If you want to enter a declining market and make a meaningful dent then you better innovate.  Naked Wines is doing just that and gaining publicity by the jeroboam.

Rowan Gormley’s latest stunt was to hold a “crowd taste off” with AU$100,000 of Naked Wines purchase orders available to the winning wine makers.

The tasters were the 50 most active customers of Naked (fully clothed, I believe).  The winemakers were selected by The Government of South Australia and the Australian Trade Commission.  After rounds of tasting and price estimating, the final coup de théâtre was the winemakers themselves in a reverse auction to adjust their prices to see how much of the $100k they could take in orders.

I managed to get my paws on three of the winners that will be going on sale via the Naked Wines website in the next few weeks:

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If you like to listen to something achingly, teasingly left wing, politically correct, family friendly and yet, despite all that, extremely listenable, I can recommend The Chronicles of Modern Life by Henry Priestman.  Clearly I am not that left wing (although I am not 100% sure what that means these days) but I am over 40 and, if you are too, I defy you not to cast a wry smile at Henry’s astute observations on wrinkle gathering.

On the other hand, if you prefer to ignore the effects of ageing and address your sagging brow by drowning your sorrows, you probably drink too much Aussie Chardonnay.  I don’t drink anywhere enough so I was pleased to receive this Burnmore as part of a STWC crisp refreshing whites case (£60) several months ago.

It is difficult to have high hopes of a wine that costs less than a fiver including shipping all the way from Oz.

As a Semillon Chardonnay blend, I suppose it is no surprise that it tastes like 10 parts St Veran and 1 part Sauternes.  Lemon and honey and much better than the price tag indicates.  If you happen to have a bottle in your cellar, I would drink it right now to see if it really will cure your wrinkly neck.

The primary responsibility of a wine producer is to make drinkable or, better still, remarkable wine.  It is a bit like a restaurant whose benchmark is firstly decent food, then cool atmosphere, warm ambience, decent price, and finally how good looking the waitresses are – oh and the quality and price of the wine list helps!

Fundamentally I care about our planet and I am very much in favour of reduced carbon emissions.  Irrespective of whether you believe the global warming doom mongerers, you would have to be a nincompoop of Victorian standards not to accept that pumping out all this shit into our precious H2O is simply a route to premature apocalypse.

However, is there really a need to shout so loud about your green credentials?  I expect as a matter of course that winemakers use ever more green and efficient production methods.  So I am always suspicious about any product that claims to be “greener” – it is the Toyota Prius effect applied to the wine industry.

This “green” one from Virgin at £8.99 wasn’t undrinkable but it was unremarkable.

At some point in your life, birthdays stop being beacons shining light on a promising future and instead become lamp posts illuminating yesterday’s gloomy streets.  A time to look back longingly at your youth and wonder what might have happened if you hadn’t bought that Ford Escort with the faulty brakes, or kissed that fat bird with dentures behind the bike sheds at school.

But the lacerations eventually healed and I was able once again to enjoy eating the sweets of my generation without the nightmare of that mousetrap snog to haunt my tongue.

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