Confessions of a Wino

I went to the opening night of Les Puddings Noir (sic) at Manchester’s Library Theatre.  I have seen so many good productions there.  For such a small theatre it is so innovative and interesting, but this was an amateur dramatic company (MAD).  However, whilst expectations were low, I had a funny feeling that it might be a laugh.

Many have tried and failed to make fun of Lancashire haute-cuisine, and the black pudding from Bury used to be the butt of Bill Oddie, uhm, I mean the butt of jokes by Bill Oddie.  Butt nowadays you can find this modern day delicacy in restaurants the world over – Ecky Thump!

Because it was the first night of an amateur production, of course the audience was full of family and friends.  A credits VT rolled to announce the play with rapturous applause for every actor (many were kids).  As complete neutrals, we thought it would be fun to whoop and holler at random names.  I wonder if it spooked them – there were a couple of ropey performances.  But on the whole, the production was a stupendous hit.  At the curtain the crowd went wild and rightly so.  My sides ached, and my eyes watered, and my black pudding swelled.  I predict that this will be a worldwide hit one day soon, and movie rights are likely to be worth more than the Full Monty.

Funnily enough, a local (Bury) butcher had taken the opportunity to give away free black puddings – step forward Chadwick’s Original.  Tonight I sampled the black pudding (sliced, gently fried in olive oil with an egg) and it was as good as the show named after it.  The best black pudding I have ever eaten and all the tastier for being slightly, albeit accidentally, burnt.

So choosing a wine to go with it was a problem.  I have been on a world tour of Pinot Noirs recently, to the boredom of many, and I have been thinking of moving on.  I have a secret desire to try a few Rieslings but I know so little about the grape.

I like the idea that the 1997 Rheingau Kabinett I found in the fridge was only 9%.  Very light and drinkable.  I also found it fruity and with a sweetness that complements black pudding in the way that a well delivered line sweetens a sour script.

Les Puddings Noir was mostly well delivered.  The two teenage mums (played by Alana Thornton and the awesome Danielle Wrigley) were only marginally eclipsed by James Creer’s hilarious French maid.  The writing was the real star, though.

Whilst bears everywhere are majestically prowling and growling to everybody that they told them so, stocks around the world continue their downward spiral.  This does not affect Manchester as much as it used to, as the Stock Exchange here is now an Italian restaurant.

(more…)

It is no secret that I am one of the remaining few who still enjoys a glass of Cloudy Bay, the “iconic”, yet some say over-priced, fire-starter of the Kiwi Sauvignon Blanc phenomenon, even though they “sold out” to LVMH and revered founder, David Hohnen, left in 2003.

Strange then that I have never tried any of the wines of Hohnen’s other famous former enterprise, Cape Mentelle, from Australia’s Margaret River.

Being a blend of Semillon and Sauvignon Blanc, as opposed to the pure SB of Cloudy Bay adds a softness to the wine.  Less of the gooseberry and rhubarb of Cloudy Bay and just a touch of honey and pear thrown into the mix.  Less acidic and therefore perhaps suited to a range of foods.

I really like it but like Cloudy Bay, it is not so cheap.  I got this from Majestic at £11.99.

The fully loaded cost of employing a call centre agent in the UK is about £20 to £25k per annus horribilis.  Off-shoring to India typically cuts the cost per head to £8 to £12k.  Many argue that the quality is not as high, and that cultural divisions make the customer experience a bit dodgy.  I think that if the process is simple, and the off-shore agent has proper access to the company’s computer systems then there is a place for off-shoring simple human contact processes.  However, like everyone else in the UK I can tell numerous tales of horrific experiences, trying to get through to “Dave” at my local Indian call centre.

According to a straw poll of my wine rack, the average price of a bottle of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc is about £10 but this Indian one from Sula Vineyards, Nashik Estate was only £7.49.  Does this cost advantage represent a simple process done with cheaper labour, or a quality Hammer House of Horror?

(more…)

The title may sound like a cryptic crossword clue, but it simply refers to the last time I tried Dog Point Sauvignon Blanc, the 2006 vintage, which was a superb example of this varietal’s clichéed ability to smell of cat pee.  I was pleased to receive a bottle of the 2007 recently as part of a mixed case so I wondered if I should hide the neighbour’s cat (on heat) before I opened it.

I know some of you beat up on Kiwi SBs and find them the height of 1990’s fashion – so last decade man – yawn, yawn, yawn.  If you are one of those, or you are not into feline urolagnia, switch off now.

(more…)

Fortnum and Mason is my secret preferred meeting place in London because its 1707 basement wine bar is discreet, well located, and staffed by knowledgeable people who serve wine in the correct Riedel glasses.

(more…)

This week I am off to see a cricket match (US readers start snoring now).  However this bottle looks more like a baseball bat (RoW readers look on in awe and dismay).

This late harvest (November 2007) from Gavi certainly has a striking bottle.  What about the wine though?

It is the colour of healthy pee and has a sort of pungent sweetness, but I expected it to be sweeter.  In fact it had good acidity and the overall balance of Michael Vaughan combined with the aggression and flair of Kevin Pietersen.  The taste is of Tropicana grapefruit juice and pear juice with some lemon zest and a bit of sherbet dip. Very refreshing as an aperitif but as a food match it went superbly well with pitta bread and hummus.

I picked it up at Majestic for £8.69

Peter May suggested that I get off my Pinot Noir high horse and start thinking seriously about Chenin Blanc.  But this is like asking me to trade in Brigitte Bardot for Barbra Streisand.  Whilst the latter is an interesting multi-faceted personality, a highly talented actress, and capable of singing almost any song, you just wouldn’t would you?

Meanwhile the Bardot of grapes is unreliable, sulky, difficult to master, but if you woke up next to her you would reach for your mobile and ring in sick (well in her prime, anyway, which sort of proves my point).

But perhaps I am missing Peter’s point.  The intellectual challenge of giving a winemaker a blank canvas like Chenin Blanc could create a satisfying long term relationship, rather than a one night stand with some Pinot Noir or other, that leaves one feeling, frankly, used.  Sex delivers the shortest high of all drugs, love perhaps the longest.

(more…)

I visited Spain for a weekend recently, and tried a few wines with various blends of Viura, Malvasia and Verdejo.  Not many left an impression, to be honest.  I have a friend who doesn’t drink Spanish wine unless from Rioja.  I think that is a bit binary.  For example there are some great Albariños from Galicia, and Ribero del Duero is hardly shy in getting their punters to part with large sums of wonga for their best wines…  But I take his point that Rioja is perhaps more consistent, whereas other areas require discretionary selection.

This bottle, like Don Quixote, came from La Mancha, unless I’m a daydreamer.  I found it in the “Spain and Portugal” section of my wine rack and it was part of a Sunday Times Wine Club (Laithwaites) “Crisp refreshing whites” case (about £60 the dozen).

I am not sure what to conclude.  At the price, it is OK.  As a party wine it would go down a treat if you chilled it to 3°C or below and served it to Sancho Panzas or ASBOs.  As a serious wine compared to any other Sauvignon or so called “crisp dry white”, I found it a little too citric and perhaps best suited to the tartest of lemon dresed shellfish, rather than as an aperitif.  However, if you are a donkey houghty type, wake up and smell the gooseberry.  You never know, you might like it!

At the time of writing it is still available from Laithwaites at £5.67, and as you can probably tell, I have never read any Cervantes.

The European Wine Bloggers Conference is fast approaching and I am looking forward to meeting up with a wide range of nationalities with one common aim, to drink Rioja dry discuss maturely the status and future of wine blogging in Europe.  But my travel plans are a nightmare and I’ve really messed up.

The conference is in Logroño, which is a bloody good reason to visit in its own right, being at the heart of La Rioja.  But my flight is to Bilbao, home of the world famous Guggenheim Museum, and I booked the wrong flight back, leaving me zero time to visit.  And you know how difficult/expensive it is to change a flight with QuEasyjet.

Furthermore, my flight out is from Stansted at 7:15am which means I have to leave home at 3am to get to the airport – at least the roads will be quiet!

I sense that the travel travails will be well worth the effort for what looks like a great event.

I was going to talk about this Romanian Pinot Grigio “from Transylvania”, but like a lot of PG it is rather ordinary.  For the record it tasted a bit of grilled tomato with herbs.  La Cittadella came from the Sunday Times Wine Club in a “Crisp Refreshing Whites” mixed case for about £60.  I suppose I shouldn’t have opened a bottle of Cloudy Bay next, which did kind of eclipse this poor Dracula juice.

Meanwhile a big fangs to Rob, Gabriella and Ryan for the hard work organising the conference and I look forward to seeing everyone there.