Confessions of a Wino

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?

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There are occasional tiny slivers, splinters of darkness in my life, that give me a sharp reminder of what I am giving up for my work.  It’s not that I resent it, entirely my own choice after all.  When I started the company in 2001, I went in with my eyes open.  I realised it would mean sacrifices.

This afternoon I took my 10 year old god-daughter to see Man City.  The look of delight on her face when City beat Spurs 2-1 was matched only by my relief at the end of an awful run of games that had put us on a snake track slithering down the league table.

Kellie came over from Dublin for the weekend with her sisters, Rebecca and Chloe – all gorgeous girls, well behaved, entertaining, polite, model children.  Kellie is obviously my favourite and she is the footie fan, tomboy, fitness fanatic, make-up-rejecting bundle of energy.

And now they have all gone and I am alone in the flat.  It’s strange how lonely you can feel when sudden mayhem is suddenly replaced by a sudden quantum of solace.

So to cheer me up, apart from consoling myself that City are back on the ladder of success, I have dragged out my notes from a bottle of Shampoo I sampled last weekend.

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I’m making a move for Pinot Noir, the Brigitte Bardot of grapes.  Beguiling, attractive, seductive, fruity, yet inconsistent and possibly a little bonkers.

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I’m having mood swings.  Pinot Noir vs Merlot.  I love Pinots from Chile, New Zealand and even Burgundy (when I can afford them).  I am equally starting to appreciate the right bank of la Gironde, the home of Merlot?  In any case, both grapes are a welcome change from Cabernet Sauvignon, Malbec and Sangiovese for example.

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I found Palacio de Monsalud at the Sunday Times Wine Club.

It is inexpensive (£7.42 per bottle) and I think it arrived in one of those bin end cases that always looks great value but invariably disappoints on balance.  The smell on opening was prunes.  A heavy thick set wine that reminded me of Port, despite only 13% alcohol.  Some spice in the form of French mustard may have been false interest introduced only by the smear of Dijon mustard on my pork sandwich.

At first I assumed the wine was spoiled but as it developed I think it just tastes crap as a matter of course.

I suppose, not surprisingly for a wine that smells of Port, it went better with cheese than anything else.

But I thought that Spanish wines were supposed to be great wines at great value to us Brits.  There was nothing here to inspire me to write anything interesting or informative….sorry.

Forget the preamble.  This Corbières is the most interesting and, frankly, gorgeous wine I have tried in ages.

I found it at Laithwaites (although it was sadly out of stock at time of writing).  I cannot remember the price, but it was definitely not expensive.  I fear that it is absolutely necessary to stick to the 2003 due to the freaky hot summer that year.  It killed several hundred French people so one can only imagine the effect it had on shrivelling (er….I mean concentrating) the grapes, and this wine is an amalgamation of several.

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I’m sure you’ve read in the press that wine prices are set to rocket in 2008.  I wondered if this was just another ruse by the wine trade to panic people into parting with their hard-earned cash, or a genuine concern.  I don’t like wasting money, or looking like a mug, so I thought I better investigate.

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I volunteered to try out the Virgin Wines online service which is relatively new to the UK but follows Virgin’s usual business model of finding a maturing market and trying to take a new angle on it.  The only trouble is that I can’t work out what the new angle actually is.

In terms of the mature market, the Wine Society has been trading for yonks.  Laithwaites has been marketing wines brilliantly for decades.  Berry Bros & Rudd have the posh end of the market.  Where is the new angle?  As far as I can tell Virgin is marketing wine to the masses.  The unwashed proletariat?  Well okay then, maybe just inexperienced wine buyers.

Whatever!  McCauley’s Journey Western Australia Shiraz turned out to be a top wine.

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Word had reached my royal ear that 1994 Riojas may be getting past their drink by date so I immediately opened this beauty, one of the few remaining in my rack from the great year.

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As one aperture in my life opens, another closes.  Having recently discovered a long lost Godmother, today I learnt that my Godfather (unrelated) has passed away.

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