Confessions of a Wino

Ah! Well a day! What evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung.

If you are a regular reader you will recall my previous disappointments with wines from Costco.  The Costco philosophy is to stack it really high and sell it really cheap, but, and here’s the thing, they stick to one brand per similar item (to maximise buying power) and generally make it an upmarket quality product.  When you translate that to wine you typically get good name wines in bad years.

 

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Raymond Burr was considered by some to be a TV genius.  Robert T. Ironside was super-attorney, Perry Mason’s succesor (in his acting career).  Personally I much preferred cigar slugging Columbo.

Talking of American trash, I’ve had to add a new category for this post which shows how much wine I drink from the world’s only remaining super-power.  I have had bad experiences of US wine in the past, perhaps based on the cheap end of the Gallo range, so I didn’t have high hopes from this one:

Ironstone Vineyards 2004 Chardonnay/Viognier  from California retails at about £7 a bottle. Surely £6 of that must be shipping costs and £1 duty (or is that vice versa) so exactly how much is spent on the wine?

I was astounded by the quality.  Uncle Sam, I apologise, even if you are bald (and especially if you are listening in via spyware or remote listening device).  A gorgeous smell of gooseberries led to flavours of pear slices in yoghurt.  Fresh fruit salad and natural yoghurt is such a great breakfast starter (as long as it’s followed by bacon and poached eggs).  Much superior to taking a cyanide pill.

I’ve just been watching one of my favourite TV programmes, Grand Designs.  Every episode is a tale of hope and of human triumph in the face of considerable adversity.  Best of all it shows that if you have a big plan it is always ten times more difficult to deliver than your worst possible estimate.

Kevin McCloud looks on and commentates in his laconic and smug, but laid back and highly entertaining style.  The thing about “reality” TV is that we can all sit back and smile with the expert, at how dumb the subjects are for not realising that they needed building regs approval for the step they are replacing with one that is 1.5 inches lower than the incumbent broken one.  Meanwhile we are led to believe that the whole project is in jeopardy as a result.

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Deep in Jack the Ripper territory just behind Bishopsgate Police Station lies a dark secret.  Whitechapel is legendary for the murders committed by one of the first serial killers to gain notoriety.  Nowadays an altogether different cereal is found in the back alleys, and the only murder is evidenced by an occasional squealing lobster.

The back alley known as Widegate Street is where I found Sri Thong, a Thai restaurant with a name that brings back haunting memories of that famous and heinous picture of Peter Stringfellow on the beach.

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Recently I went to the Harrogate Flower Show at the Great Yorkshire (everything in bloody Yorkshire is bloody “great” apparently!) Showground.  Amongst the commercial stands selling everything from gardening gloves and phallic water features, to clothes and picnic hampers, there was an odd display of flowers….and the usual bit of local produce…

Now you’ve all been there.  The twee little stands where grannies used to sell their home made pickles and marmalade – well guess what?  Yep, they have been replaced by commercial organisations making a profession out of attending shows and selling mass produced jam.  Actually that’s a bit unfair – there are still some good ones to buy from, just make sure you taste first.

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