Entering through the unassuming entrance of Max Wine Gallery you could be forgiven for thinking that you are entering a posh handbag or clothes boutique.  But, inspect further and inside you will find not Chloe or Hermès, but brands a bit closer to my heart, and liver.

Bottles of various top growths from Médoc, St Emilion and Sauternes are imprisoned within glass cases but with tempting little spouts indicating a tad of promiscuity to willing punters.  A wino heaven, although at a price.

Lynch-Bages 2006:  Smells potent, smoky, heavy and purple if you know what I mean.  Has the legs of Marilyn Monroe even though only 13% ABV.  Tastes a little kedgeree which is a shame as L-B is normally one of my favourites.  However, clearly a serious wine.  I wonder if it will improve with age.

Calon-Segur 2006:  Another winery of which I have tasted a few.  Smells much softer and more fruity than the Lynch-Bages but tastes more bitter.  Bonfire toffee and cherry.  I would drink happily with steak.

Château Pichon Longueville, Comtesse de Lalande, 2006:  No awards from the plain French Society, or the Brevity Association.  The least smoky so far but the deepest smelling.  Fine tasting with lots of fruit and some mashed carrot and swede.  Toasty and warm, already drinking well on its own in my opinion, for those who don’t mind a bit of tannin.

Les Forts de Latour, 2006:  Smells of wax crayons and tastes similar although rich, deep, tannic and fruity.  If this is representative I would leave the second wines of first growths alone in favour of the second through fifth growths’ first wines.  Confused?

Château Latour, 2004:  Most elegant yet.  If this is representative (and you are a lot richer than me) ALWAYS buy first growths.  An explosion of fruits and tannins in the mouth that makes me drool.  I don’t see the point in waiting much longer to drink this when it is so good now (2010).

Château Margaux, 2004:  I love wines from the Margaux commune and this most beautiful of châteaux has long been on my list of wines I must taste before I die.  Raspberry pavlova and vanilla cream.  Soft, luscious, gorgeous, and like Latour of the same year, drinking well right now.  So soft in the mouth it’s like cotton wool.  I wonder if Marlon Brando drank this during his Godfather performance.

Château Cheval Blanc, 2004:  I tasted Beau-Séjour Bécot recently and Haut-Sarpe from the same year but, although nice, they are pale inferiors.  Bonfire toffee, blackcurrant and toast.  By far the richest and deepest of the wines I’ve tasted today.  I thought most St Emilion’s were more approachable in youth than the Cabernet Sauvignon dominated Rive Gauche but it turns out this is 66% Cabernet Franc.  Bit tea-baggy and probably best left to soften for a few years (or decades).

Château d’Yquem, 2004:  I noticed that the name of the Compte de Lur Saluces was missing from the front of the bottle.  I believe this was the first vintage to omit his name after he sold out to LVMH and retired?  I was in Sauternes last week and tasted some awesome wines from Yquem neighbours, Suduiraut and Guiraud.  Rumour has it that Yquem quality is falling whilst Climens is now jostling for the crown.  Sour grapes?

I have been dying, since birth almost, to try the real thing.  The smell of this wine is enough to give you a stiffy (or moisten you, if female).  Honey, lychees, apricots, pineapple, pear, honeydew melon, beeswax and a subtle pepper undertone.  Could there be more complex wine?  I have never tasted Manna, but this must be the closest I have ever been to heaven.  It justifies the enormous price tag for me, although my bank manager won’t allow me to buy any.

So that concludes a €75 three hour blowout that involved drinking less, in total, than one large £3.50 glass of wine from an English pub, but delivered pleasure that you cannot put a value on.  And if I had a car here, I could probably legally drive home.  I wonder if this is what the British Government means by “binge drinking”.

Max Bordeaux
14 Cours de l’Intendance
33000 Bordeaux
T:  +33 (0)5 57 29 23 81
E:  gallery@maxbordeaux.com
W:  http://maxbordeaux.com/

Where better to try a Bordeaux Grand Cru than in its home town?  Problem is pecuniary.  Although restaurants around Bordeaux ask reasonable mark-ups, this still involves voluntary surgery.  To keep my arms and legs intact, my cunning plan was to buy the wine from a local shop and take it to the restaurant which, for convenience, was Le Savoie, bang in the centre of Margaux.

As it happens the plan was only partly successful because, including €12 corkage, despite the drinking pleasure, my bank manager still had to find €111 (a “Nelson” in cricketing terms) to replenish my bank account.

Peppery, spicy, earthy and full of fruit, yet very feminine and flowery. But that’s enough about the waitress, let’s talk about the wine.  Actually, let’s not. It would be rude.  Enough to say that words like ethereal, magic, and wheelbarrow are simply not appropriate.  One thing that is true of fine wines is that they evolve over time in the glass, and this went through a lifecycle more akin to a swan or butterfly, although in youth it already started from a position of covetous pulchritude.  Moving from Eartha Kitt to Juicy Lucy is some feat and it opened up its fruity legs to show its floral class, lavender undertones and minty tannins.  At 12.5% ABV it turned into a light sabre, but with The Jedi in control. The force was with me – good job I wasn’t allowed to drive home.

The meal was forgettable, with a flopped mushroom mousse accompanying my snails, and massively overcooked, out of season veg that was so tired I assume it had been watching an omnibus edition of Eastenders. Everything tried just a little too hard, from the amuse-bouche to the weird shaped crockery.

By all means call in for a lunch on your way through Médoc but for a posh evening meal pretending to the Michelin étoile you will find much better places in Pauillac or Bordeaux.  In fairness the service was Michelin class, it was only the food that disappointed.  You may have more luck, especially if you are French, judging by the magic mushroom mousse that has just arrived at the next table to M. et Mme. Mangetout.

The bill was another thing that tried too hard although, in fairness, it succeeded in being the most expensive of the holiday, at €90 for two (excluding wine of course).

Le Savoie
1, place Trémoille
33460 Margaux
Bordeaux
France
T: +33 (0)5 57 88 31 76
W:  www.lesavioe.net

So my soccer skills rank alongside Apple’s PR prowess.  But when it comes to enjoying a glass of wine…. well this one, anyway.  Inky dark and purple in colour with an intoxicating, but not overly alcoholic smell.  The taste, charcoal, beetroot, blackberry.  The 2001 Bordeaux were ambushed by a sequence of “vintages of a lifetime”.  On this form, and when you look at the latest 2009 prices, 2001 may be a stonking bargain.

Meanwhile, new world wine nation, Uruguay, macerated mid-world South Africa 3-0.  And France will have to cheat considerably more than they have so far to win the special FIFA Bloody Sunday Award for fair play.

I guess it’s a good job they can still make great grape juice.

This is a rough country wine from Côtes de Blaye.  Earthy, plummy, dark and fruity.  Like Thierry Henry but more even handed.

Perfect with peasant food – my team of choice was a cheese (not Swiss) omelette and a handful of salad leaves.

I passed £7.50 to the Wine Society.  A quick toe-poke at Google revealed that it is scarcer than a Dubliner in South Africa right now.

Despite the lofty lofty entrance to Roast, we were left rather dangling on arrival.  The tall and tanned and young and lovely Maitress d’ was presumably out for a smoke, but at least this gave us the opportunity to read the Sunday Times match report of Man City’s glorious victory over Chelski the day before.  It would have been nice to have done so over a celebratory glass of champagne but nothing was offered.

A triptych of stern rules in the Gents provided a further clue to the police state we were entering.

Finally seated, I opened with Ramsey of Carluke haggis, celeriac and oxtail sauce. Thankfully a tiny portion after reams of bread and gorgeous butter delivered with gay abandon and little concern for keeping our bellies empty enough to order expensive mains.

But I always make room for hearty course such as roast leg of Elwy lamb with slow roast shoulder and mashed potatoes, curly kale and quince jelly.  The roast potatoes served with the chicken Fred ordered were legendary but necessary to supplement the lamb, so order some on the side.  The sprouts with bacon (also served with bloody Fred’s chicken) made the best of an evil vegetable and, despite my childhood prejudice, I would eat them again.

Recommended by our charming East European and surprisingly wine knowledgeable waiter, Château Lucas Lussac St. Emilion 2005 at £39 arrived at the table.  Wood smoke and lovely fig and beetroot. Superb with the lamb and served at the right temperature (17-18 degrees).

There was an impressive, if slightly restricted, view of St. Paul’s dome from our table.  The waiter said he was surprised how many times he was asked (even by English people) what it was.  Isn’t this Christopher Wren classic more famous than the Empire State Building?  Hasn’t anybody seen Mary Poppins?  However, despite being full of birds, the food in Roast is more than tuppence a bag.  £30 for a 3 course Sunday lunch to be precise.

I still managed to turn the bill into a lazy afternoon, alcohol fuelled £140 for two.

As the relaxed jazz house band played the 9th version of Girl from Ipanema I heard today, I couldn’t help feeling how far away from Ipanema I was, and all the better for that.  Roast is the epitome of a decent traditional British Sunday lunch served to modern culinary standards.  And despite early appearances, the atmosphere was as relaxed as the jazz.

Roast, Borough Meerkat,
The Floral Hall,
Stoney Street,
London
SE1 1TL.
T: 0845 034 7300
F: 0845 034 7301
E:  feedback@roast-restaurant.com
W:  www.roast-restaurant.com

I dug out a 2005 St. Emilion that looked like it might go with a bit of bully.

On my binary wine rating scale, Carteau scored 1.  That means I like it.

I can’t remember where I bought it from or how much it cost but I have a feeling it was about a tenner.  I can’t be bothered comparing it to a plum pudding or a vanilla slice, or even a smoky cedar coffee stained cigar.

It tastes “nice” and goes well with steak.

Random fact:  I am backing The Power to win his 15th World Championship…..and I predict he will beat James Wade by hitting a double 16 (he prefers double top).

Have a great Christmas!

The wine equivalent may well be Château D’Aiguilhe 2005, Côtes de Castillon.  This Merlot dominated Bordeaux blend is spicier than an investment banker’s underpants the morning after splashing the year end bonus on a (high class) Indian meal.

Plums, star anise, cinnamon and candied peel make for a winter warmer that is richer than Fred “the shred” Goodwin.  There is also a touch of wet cake mix which is probably an indication that the wine should be stored a bit longer – but why wait?  Drink it with spicy pasta and Alistair Darling.

I got mine from the Sunday Times Wine Club where it was a far from cheap £19.49 per bottle.  However, it is out of stock so I guess you will have to look somewhere else.  If you can find it at 20 quid (EUR20, USD20) or less I would buy some.  I’ve got half a case salted away in my Combine Harvester.

If you are fortunate enough to have fleeced RBS for a £703,000 (USD703,000, EUR703,000) annual pension, you should probably buy all the Aiguilhe available on the market.  I predict it will treble in price by 2020 which is the drink by date (and coincidentally my prediction for the end of the recession).

The last time I was genuinely scared at a horror movie was a David Cronenberg double bill of Rabid and Shivers at the Manchester Odeon in 1979.

Talking of a man and a dog, 20 years ago, a Computer Operations Manager told me that was the perfect team for running a computer centre of the future.  The man is there to feed the dog and the dog is there to keep the man away from the computer equipment.  How prophetic.

Château Guibot La Fourvielle 2005 is a wine of the future, but I am drinking it now.  2005, as we all know, was a legendary vintage.  The best wines ever made on earth were crafted in Bordeaux in 2005.  Well, that is if you don’t count 2006, 2007, 2008 and (hopefully) 2009.  And, come to think of it, anything Parker rates at 90+.

I ordered the wine en primeur in a mixed case from the Sunday Times Wine Club at about £10 per bottle.  What super value it turned out to be.  I have not drunk a red wine this good for ages.

Soft fruity tannins, rich plum pudding.  Frozen berries in a sugar basket.  Magnificent with lamb chops – which reminds me of Will Smith’s sideburns.

We have temporary low purchase tax, temporary hyper-low interest rates and temporary Bank intervention, pumping money into the economy on a scale not seen since RBS started furnishing Sir Fred Goodwin with his pension.

This all has to change in the near future.  The economy is being propped up on all sides and as that artificial support unwinds it is hard not to be gloomy.  Interest rate rises + government spending cuts + VAT increase = people have less money to spend + public sector people on the dole = companies get even less money = private sector people on the dole and we are firmly back in a dizzy recessionary spiral.

I am not an economist but it strikes me that the credit problem has not been resolved.  We over-borrowed and the debt has not been paid back yet.  It has merely been transferred from the people who over-borrowed, to the banks that repackaged debt, sold it and creamed off a commission, then transferred it to the lenders of last resort (the central banks), who are supported by the Governments who raise taxes from the people and spend (or not) on their behalf so the debt comes back to us to eventually repay.  And there is a lot to redeem.

Meanwhile, shares are frothier than a cappuccino, gold is on crack cocaine, and bankers and investors are wearing confoundingly rose tinted braces.  Buy buy buy!!!!????  Bye bye.

So I am stocking up for the hard times.  My wine cellar has never been more stuffed with wines that will be drinking well in the next 5 years, which is how long I predict it will take to really get the economy back on track.

Meanwhile I am yearning for richer times like 2003 when, before you leave a rude comment, the economy was not exactly red hot, but the weather was.  Château La Garde tastes of those times.  Essence of scorched earth, burnt caramel with deep dark wizened fruits.  You can smell 2003 in the glass.  Yum.  One to drink up before the taxman knocketh.

The Sunday Times Wine Club advised me to wait until 2010, but I could be dead by then and I am an impatient man….oh and I have 12 bottles so I can afford to experiment early.  So Fred had a placed a fillet steak on the skillet and I released the special one from its enclosure.

Actually, I now have only 10 bottles.  The first was really badly corked.   Lieutenant Pigeon’s finest is still running through my nose.  The second bottle rather nice, once I decanted.  It was trifle in a glass.  All the components were there, sponge soaked in berry fruits, cream, custard in abundance and even little chocolate sprinkles.  No trifling wine – robust as you might expect from a Pauillac, yet with the grace of a singing swan.

Talking of music, last night I saw a world première of an opera.  Not often one of those happens, especially in Leeds.  Well, unless you count Opera North amongst your regular night’s out.  This is the second world première we have seen this year.  Covent Garden, Schmovent Schmarden.  Come oop North if you want innovation!

Based on a Finnish fairytale and advertised as a good opportunity to introduce opera to children, it was about as suitable for kids as a Gary Glitter concert.  It was scary, challenging and, to be frank, barking mad.  Yet it was brilliant in many ways.

The audience looked like an arthritis convention, and about 25% were empty seats.  In the Howard Assembly Room, capacity circa 250, could they not find a few friends to turn up and watch, even free of charge?  No wonder we managed to grab the best seats in the house, middle for diddle and 4 rows back from the stage.  In a small venue, the connection with the performers, including the six piece “orchestra” is extremely intimate.  Andrew Rees as Lemminkäinen had the scary, steely, psychotic stare of Cuckoo Nest proportions, especially when riding the Devil’s horse.  His mother played by Yvonne Howard, was everyone’s worst mother-in-law nightmare.  The impossibly tasty Frances Bourne as Louhi, the voice of the swan, Elizabeth Cragg, and the two dogs, Graeme Broadbent and Nicholas Sharratt were all simply excellent.  The performance was totally excellent, the music challenging but interesting and new.  Only the libretto came across as a bit obvious.  Maybe Alasdair Middleton thinks we are all a bit thick.  Much more could have been done with the stage direction rather than words.  This probably explains why the highlight for me, and the reason why you should absolutely make a long trip to see the show, is the wordless song of the Swan on Death’s river.  Enchanting, bewitching, beguiling, enthralling.

At the end of the performance I tried to start a Twitter meme #swanhunter.  The response was as mute as the swan.  I guess iPhones are mostly owned by the under 80s.

Château Lynch-Bages 2005 is available from Bordeaux Index at £775 per case.  Drink now if you like, or keep for several decades.

Swanhunter by the impeccable Opera North is touring “smaller” venues in the North of England.  Please go, but don’t take your kids.