Themed, so far as I can tell, on 1970′s food, and indeed atmosphere, it is a welcome blast from the past, with a sole exception – the wine glasses.  They could do with updating from ‘old fashioned pub’ to ‘trendy bistro’, Riedel in other words.

The service is also a bit 1970′s.  A little over friendly in a Uriah Heep meets Mr Bean sort of way.  Our waiter wanted to share our experience a bit too much.  “So how are you guys, have you been up to anything nice today, what have you been doing?” got a sharp retort from Fred, “actually could we please have a drink?”  I was pretty parched too after 15 dry minutes at our table.

But the childhood souvenirs kept flowing like the piped music (1980′s pop, in an ironic twist).

Mackerel pâté reminded me of why I love that fish, and rue it’s virtual disappearance as a menu staple.  Freshly fished mackerel served in a Clovelly hotel is one of the most memorable of my childhood dining experiences.

McHenry Hohnen Shiraz, 2008 is priced from the 1970′s at £22 19s 0d, or £22.95 as we now know it.  Tanner’s have it at £9.95 retail so a mere 130% markup (full marks).  Damson fruity but quite heavy.  Fortunately, Mr Heep didn’t bat an eyelid when I asked him to take the temperature down a bit.  In fairness it wasn’t served from the wine oven in the first place – < 20°C, I reckon.  So, full marks from the WART campaign.

Lamb Henry was rosemary and mint super-tasty but was surpassed by the best mixed veg portion I have possibly ever eaten.  Perfectly cooked cauliflower, sugar snaps, carrots, broccoli seasoned with a little freshly ground love.

Meanwhile Uriah served a fresh glass of wine to his “buddy” at the next table, and two sticky toffee puddings to his “folks” just along the way.

He brought me, by way of a self inflicted experiment, a glass of Lakeland Liqueur.  A local brew of whisky, caramel and butterscotch served to “mates” only.  Very tasty but would have been even nicer as a digestif if slightly more potent than 20% ABV.  It superbly complemented the After Eight Mints, though, a confection that I’ve not seen since a memorable incident in a Buxton curry house in 1992, the only incident of that weekend that mercifully involved no sheep.

The dessert menu (all made in house) could have been conceived by Keith Floyd in his sober period (April 75 to May 75).  Apple Strudel, Black Forest Sunday, Sherry Crème Brulée, and best of all, an Assiete of Lucy’s Desserts.  As the menu says “keep Cumbria curvy!”  Be it ever so ‘umble how can you not fall in love with a place like this?

Lucy’s Restaurant & Bar
Ash Street
Bowness-on-Windermere
LA23 3EB
T:  01539 442793

But before you accuse me of lionising various flying winemakers, wombat oenologists and possum pressers, I am merely talking marketing.  And in this case, a frog.

To compete with the traditional, sometime arrogant and obscure, but extremely competent and successful French, Aussie winemakers have lightened up a bit.  Making wine a bit less stuffy, as a subject, and more tasty as an object has to be a worthwhile pastime.

This wine came from Majestic at £7.99.  If you followed the link you might conclude that it was pretty popular since the 2007 has gone and replaced by its successor that will magnetise another of your British pounds and drag it from your purse.  Mind you, if you buy two bottles the price drops to £6.99 per bottle.  That is pretty cheap for a Pinot Noir, so what is it like?

Well it is only slightly rough around the edges and is full of red berry fruits with a kick of spice.  Disappointingly lacking in amphibian flavours, which as we all know, largely resemble chicken, it is nonetheless an interesting wine and if you like your Pinot Noir like Graham Norton, fresh, fruity and in your face then I can recommend.

I served it reasonably chilled with sausage and mustard, and it didn’t leave a frog in my throat.  More like a toad in the hole.

So the thought of a boxed wine is most appealing.  Hardys claim this new 2,250ml (3-bottle) enclosure keeps the wine fresh for 6 weeks!

The packaging is ingenious.  Easy to open and, unlike wine boxes of old, the tap is on the bottom which means you can keep the box on the top shelf of the fridge and grab a glass whenever you want it.  But only for the white wine.  The red wine is a traditional side tap which means keeping upright and serving in a tipply topply fashion off the edge of a kitchen unit, where I swiftly deposited my first squirt down the cupboard door.  Personally I would prefer to draw the red wine from the fridge into a carafe and allow it to warm a bit before drinking.

Apart from my minor gripe on the tap location, the packaging excels.  The trouble is, the wine doesn’t.  The Nose was barely able to pick out pink grapefruit from the one-dimensional Nottage Hill 2008 Chardonnay.  The 2007 Cabernet Shiraz carried a faint reminiscence of cherries, but both had the smell and mouth feel of a 1970′s condom.

I have had much better experiences with Hardys’ wines.  I am sure that Nottage Hill in bottle must taste better than this.  However, in the same way that Italians keep Nescafé for emergencies only (the British equivalent is condensed milk), perhaps this latest wine-in-a-box should sit in the fridge awaiting the visit of your least favourite aunt, or marginally tolerable neighbours, who don’t quite deserve the expense of opening a proper bottle.

Available at Sainsbury and other supermarkets at about £19.99.

When I poured this Shiraz from the Lynn family in Coonawarra, it held all the promise of a Heston Blumenthal raspberry sorbet.  Alive fizzy and erm…raspberry coloured.

But it disappointed badly. A heavy wine with some cherry and banana but slightly stale like old cornflakes.

Champagne is about sparkling clarity.  The sort of brightness that streams in through your bedroom window on a Sunday morning in August, when a little bit of bedroom gymnastics is on the cards.

This was dull as dishwater and wouldn’t have even made a Chippendale stand to attention.  However, in fairness, I think it is simply past its best.  My mate JJ who graciously brought it over (and hopefully doesn’t mind me writing so ungraciously about it) has probably stored it in an airing cupboard for a few years which, one assumes, might not have helped.

I’ll try another (younger) bottle one day.

Aside from the ubiquitous Jacob’s Creek, I recall Hardy’s as being a brand leader. So when my neighbour, Peter, brought a bottle of Varietal Range Chardonnay round to my barbie, I was first insulted, then dismissive and finally intrigued.  Obviously, in Peter’s presence I sniffed at it, parked it in the corner and turned to open a bottle of something exclusive and French (albeit cheap and ropey).

Curiosity got the better of me this evening and I opened the bottle.

In both smell and taste it whacks you in the face with a bunch of exotic fruits – mango, papaya, pineapple and guava.  In that sense it is not particularly complex.  Serious winos might allege that it is one-dimensional but as John Holmes discovered, there is nothing wrong with possessing only one dimension as long as you make that one count in spades…

Time to drop the major brand prejudice and simply focus on whether or not you enjoy the wine, eh?

You can get this at most supermarkets for just over a fiver.

OS 2.0 had holes the size of moon craters.  If you own another brand I bet you can cut and paste.  I bet you can send multimedia messages.  I bet you can capture voice recording.  I bet you can remotely wipe your phone if it is stolen.  (OK this last one is fairly unique).  These yawning gaps have been filled in 3.0 and without having to download any more apps.  Need meteorite strike insurance?  There’s an app for that….

That having been said, the single greatest strength of the iPhone is that is has learnt, ironically from Microsoft, that to create a successful platform you have to create a community and allow them to expand your platform by building applications.  This happens much faster than you could ever build applications yourself so the usage of your platform spreads like wildfire.

Witness Steve Jobs who, a billion application downloads later, must be wondering if he will catch up Bill Gates in the software wealth stakes before the decade is out.

In honour, I was hoping to bring you a wine that tastes of apple, but this one is pure lemon.

From Virgin Wines at a not inconsiderable £14.15, I ordered this as part of my virtual world tour of Rieslings.

It smells of fresh lemonade and tastes of lemon meringue pie.  Very subtle and delicate, much like erm……a lemon meringue pie.  As Rieslings go, I generally have had great experience of Australia and particularly Clare Valley.  I’ve not had much experience of Tin Sheds though.

Highly recommended although I think a tad over-priced.

Rowan Gormley’s latest stunt was to hold a “crowd taste off” with AU$100,000 of Naked Wines purchase orders available to the winning wine makers.

The tasters were the 50 most active customers of Naked (fully clothed, I believe).  The winemakers were selected by The Government of South Australia and the Australian Trade Commission.  After rounds of tasting and price estimating, the final coup de théâtre was the winemakers themselves in a reverse auction to adjust their prices to see how much of the $100k they could take in orders.

I managed to get my paws on three of the winners that will be going on sale via the Naked Wines website in the next few weeks:

The interestingly named Greedy Sheep 2007 Margaret River Cabernet/Merlot – 14.3%.

Even more bizarre nomenclature provided by Ladies who Shoot their Lunch 2008 Wild Ferment Chardonnay – 14%.

Making up the triumvirate, Chalk Hill 2006 McLaren Vale Shiraz/Cabernet/Grenache, almost boring by name but weighing in at a whopping 15.5% alcohol.

I’ll leave you to judge the value of the marketing initiative.  Was it a win/win/win/win for Naked, the Australian agencies and the winemakers?  While you ponder, I am going to have a bit of fun and guess the prices of the wines when they go on sale.

Greedy Sheep Cabernet/Merlot was my favourite and a good robust tasty wine that I would buy for about £8.  It has the peaty seaweed smell of a glorious Islay Malt (Ardbeg or Lagavulin for example).  Flavours are intense blackcurrants, wet cake mix, plums and a touch of chocolate.

Ladies who Shoot Chardonnay is unusual but tasty and probably worth the same £8.  Buttery grapefruit and orange with rose hips and a touch of honey.  Potent but tasty and went especially well with barbecued Marlin (don’t ask!).

Chalk Hill – I wouldn’t buy this one but I suspect it will be just over a tenner if only to cope with the duty.  It is an Autumn fruits jambuster – not my favourite style.  Way too overpowering for me, but I must be on my own because the 50 live tasters rated this at 4.4 out of 5, second highest score of the evening.

On the other hand, if you prefer to ignore the effects of ageing and address your sagging brow by drowning your sorrows, you probably drink too much Aussie Chardonnay.  I don’t drink anywhere enough so I was pleased to receive this Burnmore as part of a STWC crisp refreshing whites case (£60) several months ago.

It is difficult to have high hopes of a wine that costs less than a fiver including shipping all the way from Oz.

As a Semillon Chardonnay blend, I suppose it is no surprise that it tastes like 10 parts St Veran and 1 part Sauternes.  Lemon and honey and much better than the price tag indicates.  If you happen to have a bottle in your cellar, I would drink it right now to see if it really will cure your wrinkly neck.

On the basis of the majority opinion of serious wine commentators I chose Riesling, but I have not been quite as enthused as I was by the Brigitte Bardot of the grape world.

I tried comparing Riesling to the new mini – refined, exciting, reminiscent of the past, and better made by Germans.  But I would like to retract that statement and simultaneously upset many wine purists, because my experience says wines from the noble Riesling grape are better built by Australians.

Take Pauletts, Polish Hill River from Clare Valley.  I picked it up from Majestic at only £9.99 – cheaper than your average German.  Grapefruit, melon, a touch of marzipan and a sliver of ginger root.  Like many Rieslings, it goes superbly well with Thai food and, after all, Thailand is closer to Australia than Germany (I think).  So this logical reasoning is indisputable proof that criminals make better Riesling.  I’m sure Dr Spock would agree.

So maybe Riesling is the Ten Pound Pom of grapes:  Cheap, well travelled, classless, and ultimately better off in Australia.

It is always interesting to attempt to not be swayed by a label, but given a Château Lafite 1787 and an Echo Falls Merlot in each other’s bottles would I notice?  I might rate the sickly lifestyle brand, with almost certainly the British & Commonwealth record for slowest and most annoying website ever, the best wine.  Maybe I am a Label Mabel.  A brand junkie.  Or just a marketing and packaging enthusiast?

My prejudices say this wine is cheap.  The colour is dark and much too purple.  The taste is jammy.  Specifically blackcurrant with a wipe of strawberry.  There is also something tangy and sharp.  But actually I quite like it.  At 13.5% not as blockbusting super-jammo as I feared.  Yes, quite tasty.  I think it would compare favourably to a £7.50 Chilean Cabernet.

So how much is it then?  Off to Google.  Tesco.com have it for £6.17 a bottle (in cases of 6).  That sounds fair.  Bit better than a cheapy, not in the same class as a 10 quider but drinkable with the right food – in this case Marmite on white toast is the perfect match.