Confessions of a Wino

Amongst the longest wine names you can find on a bottle belong to Concha y Toro…

Concha y Toro Winemaker’s Lot 9T Sauvignon Blanc Lo Ovalle Vineyard D.O. Casablanca Valley by Ignacio Recabarren 2007 is all the information you get on the front of the bottle.  There is a little more info on the back but it’s all claptrap by the Wine Society who charge £6.95 for an odd shaped bottle of this Chilean white wine.

Actually, the wine is super value for money and would give many a NZ Sauvignon a run for its honey, although this one was more grass, gooseberry, grapefruit and red cherryade.  The only thing missing is a good dose of cat’s piss (yes, just one this time).

Once again – Concha y Toro proves itself to be one of the big wine brands to trust.

When I was a kid growing up in Cheadle Hulme, a post war suburb of Manchester, there were shops everywhere.  Within just 10 minutes walk of a fair sized shopping centre in the village, was another conurbation of shops based around the Kenilworth pub.  On one t-junction there was a chemist, a newsagent (RS McColl), a greengrocer, a post office, two bakers, two butchers (Breens’ and Pimlott’s), a toy shop (Playland), a Chinese takeaway, a Shell garage (gas station), a hardware shop, a small grocer and, rather bizarrely, a garden centre (Spreadboroughs – donkey’s years ahead of its time).

Thinking back, it’s amazing that we allowed Tesco and the other major supermarkets to put virtually all these businesses out of business.

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I’ve been on a crusade recently, to try to persuade the public that white wine is almost always served too cold, whilst red wine is almost always too warm.  I have appealed to restaurateurs and bar owners to join my Wine At Right Temperature (WART) campaign, but every single one has responded that they are merely reflecting public demand and, in any case, displaying my helpful acronym in the window of their premises is hardly likely to invite custom.

This is a bit like saying that the media is a reflection of society, when most sane people admit that it plays a leading role in many circumstances, and as a minimum is quick to jump on any bandwagon as soon as it looks like there is any public support.  Take the current credit crunch.  The media, including respected sources like the BBC, are constantly talking the economy into a recession.  Soon enough, it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy.

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I’ve tried a few Chilean Carmenères now, and there is an emerging theme.  If I could can the essence of a real wood and coal fire pumping smoke out of an English country chimney in 1974…..it’s a vivid memory jogger!

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My wino mate, Robert, opened a debate about whether bringing a supermarket branded wine showed good judgement, or embarrassed your dinner party hosts.

Most winos concluded that it shows good form to see through the label and judge the wine.  In fact, spotting a bargain winissimo in sheep’s clothing is a big coup for a wine snob (assuming he can convince his friends that the wine is really worth much more than the actual price).  I have a personal view here.  I simply don’t care where the wine comes from, or the name on the label, or the price, but I am a sucker for packaging.  On that measure I am not sure why I picked up this ugly bottle at Sainsbury for £6.99.

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So, the worst kept secret in football has finally been revealed.  Sven-Göran Eriksson has been sacked by Manchester City.  I am always one to say I told you so, but on this occasion I have evidence.  I did predict that it would all end in tears.

Now, the rumour mill has turned up Mark Hughes as the top candidate.  At this point I have to stand up for Sven.  He had a horrific end to the season, results-wise, but he still ended up 9th in his first season in charge of an otherwise relegated club.  The Premiership “superstar” in charge of Blackburn Rovers finished an astonishing 3 points and two places higher, after several years in charge of his club.  In what sense does that promise a better performance next year?  I have two resolutions if Mark Hughes is appointed

1.  I will only attend the first home game of the season next year and I vow to sing “Sven-Göran Eriksson” for as long and as loud as my voice will stand.

2.  I will not be deflected from my world tour of Pinot Noirs.  Meet Zarcillo.

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Do you remember my epic conquest of the Bridgewater Canal in Manchester?  My flag at the “summit”, otherwise known as the King’s Ransom in Sale, was a glass of 2006 Casillero del Diablo Carmenère (some say Carménère – in fact a Wikipedia “discussion” has broken out – ooooooh my!).

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Can you play a musical instrument? I’ve been trying to learn the guitar for more than 30 years and I am still useless. Every time I pick one up (I own two or three) and start making some progress, I am consumed by some other pastime, like blogging, or work, or trying to lose weight.

My life (and presumably yours) is controlled by one’s own priorities. On a scale of one to ten how do you rate: Family? Work? Music? Art? Science? Procrastination? Procreation? Playstation? It seems that music all too frequently falls down my list.

I once signed up to eBay, purely to sell some old punk singles. When I realised they were going for peanuts, I ended up buying more Monkeys; adding to my rarely played and esoteric collection. Whilst I am now the proud owner of the excellent original version of Banana Splits by The Dickies on yellow vinyl, did I really need it?

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More from my flirtatious world tour of Pinot Noir, and this one came in a Sunday Times Wine Club Pinot Noir mixed case at £69.99 (the case, not the bottle).

Is Pinot Noir really so fickle?  My recent experience says that many areas of the world are successfully bedding this sex kitten of a grape.  Adolfo Hurtado has certainly put a notch on his bedstead.  For he’s a jolly good fellow!

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Software and wine should never be mixed, unless you happen to run a software company and you like wine.  Or someone named after a manure breeze block launches a wine that happens to emulate a content delivery software company.  In this world of legal battles between Apple and the Beatles, who will sue who?

But if you write software, the chances of cutting some quality code when pissed are about as good as enjoying a soirée recital of Vogon poetry.

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