When dining out, one well known restaurant critic makes a point of asking how the tips are distributed, always leaving cash, and encourages readers to do the same. So I dutifully asked the MO of one waiter at the Cornerhouse Grill and was stunned by his response.
On the way home from Banús, and on Sundays many restos are shut. Our contorted journey this time, for some reason, comprised a bus to Marbella, a taxi to Fuengirola and a train to Malaga airport. Planes trains and automobiles! Good job we had the best part of a day to waste.
Apart from the travelling, our first waste of time was stopping at La Tasca de los Niños. The only excitement drawn from that place resulted from a couple of Spanish piss-heads already warming up for the European Cup Final (Spain were to deservedly beat Germany 1-0).
Fortunately tapas are served on small plates, so after the first two disappointments, we decamped to CervecerÃa Gambrinus right next door to the rail station.
Another epic walk out of Manchester and we decided to see what had happened to beloved Maine Road on the way to Didsbury for lunch at Saints and Scholars.
I met Rob McIntosh in Manchester, the night before the UEFA Cup Final (Rangers lost 2-0). Piccadilly Gardens was packed and all the pubs were overflowing with friendly but very pissed Glaswegians. Fortunately, the Scots had not found the Northern Quarter, an eclectic mix of trendy, funky, bohemian bars, clubs, clothes shops and arty establishments. Rob had spotted the old fish market earlier and a bar/resto on the other side of High Street confusingly named The Northern Quarter.
I am sitting here idly watching a football match. It is Euro 2008 and I am watching with aggressive disinterest because my team (England) did not qualify. Players from the other teams I am, by ancestry or marriage, entitled to support - Scotland and Ireland, are also sat on a beach somewhere spending their “hard-earned” footballers’ wages on pina coladas.
Like Euro 2008, my world tour of Pinot Noirs has had plenty of representatives from across Europe but not one from the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. So much for global warming.
This one came from the spiritual home of Pinot Noir, Burgundy. Part of the ancient footballing nation of Gauls. And in the religion that celebrates this fickle red grape, whether or not worshipping les bleus, the Cathédrale Notre Dame is the Cote D’Or.
Delivered via the Sunday Times Wine Club in a “Pure Pinot Noir” case for £69.99, this is a basic Bourgogne AOC from 2004, but still well priced at just over £7 (about a gallon of gasoline for US readers).
I found it tasted of gooseberry, redcurrant, blackberry and damp logs with a little earthiness thrown in as if to acknowledge the religious origins of my argument. Slightly on the acidic side but very nice and I’d definitely drink it again. I would recommend serving it fairly well chilled – give it at least an hour in a household fridge before opening.
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.
Twas the eve of the UEFA cup final when all through the house, nothing was stirring, not even a mouse. However, Scots and Russians littered the streets of Manchester and made a right old din too. In fairness, Glasgow Rangers fans travel brilliantly and even though they lost the final (2-0) they remained in great spirit, and enormously friendly.
One of the advantages of writing a weblog is that on average it connects you to much more interesting people than, say, Facebook, or visiting a cup final. Having previously conversed only in cyberspace, Rob kindly invited me to a wine tasting in Manchester. I wasn’t about to say no to the opportunity to taste more wine, never mind meet a new face, so….erm….. I said yes.
The evening was jointly hosted by Kro2 bar, Dinastia Vivanco, Castillo de Clavijo, and Bibendum.
Â
So the football season is coming to a close and it’s time to start thinking about cricket. England will entertain two wine nations, New Zealand and South Africa, in the 2008 summer’s international test matches. Tonight I am preparing for the season by drinking wine from a non cricketing nation. On my world tour of Pinot Noirs, this latest is another one from the Wine Society Chilean PN mixed case (£82), and is the second from the Leyda stable.
You may have noticed I was having problems with my ISP until recently. This was driving me to drink which is, fortuitously, a pastime in which I am experienced and capable.
As I sit here contemplating a meaningless friendly against France (meaningless since Signor McClaren failed to qualify England for the 2008 European Championships) I thought I would tip a nod to our new head coach by sampling a bottle of Carpallo. Now Sr Capello is Italian, whereas this wine is Spanish. Sr. Capello is a heavyweight, and this wine is a lightweight. Sr. Capello is serious, whereas my comparison to a wine named Carpallo is inane and trite. Then again, Sr. Capello has picked David Beckham in the squad which is a bit of a laugh and not exactly building for the future is it? My final comparison is that Condes Carpallo is dirt cheap, whereas Sr. Capello is very very expensive indeed. Which one delivers the best value?
Stumble It!
