Confessions of a Wino

My last (and first) visit to Fortnum & Mason 1707 Wine Bar was such a success, the very next time I was in London I revisited.

This time my flight comprised three Pinot Noirs and I also added a plate of charcuterie to nibble on.  At £13 an American would starve on this dish, but the quality soared.  The meat was, interestingly, not Italian, the most notable of a good bunch being Gloucester Old Spot Prosciutto which stood up to any Italian prosciutto I have ever tasted.

The Pinot Noirs were all worthy of drinking, for the record:

Fortnum & Mason Bourgogne Rouge Drouhin 2004 - soft and supple, the most subtle of the three with redcurrants and a creamy finish.

Merricks Creek Pinot Noir Victoria 2004 - a powerful strawberry flavour wine, jammy and louder than Ian Paisley in full rhetorical flow.

Pegasus Bay Pinot Noir Waipara 2004 - the most interesting of the bunch.  Cherries and some mineral.  A bit like the French one but with a bit of kiwi intensity and sharpness.

I couldn’t resist trying one more wine and was pleased to see the Fortnum & Mason Pomerol Clos Rene 2003 served in a Riedel Bordeaux glass from the Vinum range. Black fruits prevailed in contrast to the red fruited Pinots.  A bit of cooked cabbage, quite tannic with a long finish.  Quite a serious wine as you might expect

I tolerated some rude treatment from the staff because of the excellent pricing policy, £10 corkage being added to the shop price no matter the value of the wine.  Clearly the place to go if you fancy a 1961 Latour.

So I award F & M my top prize for least rip-off wine drinking prices in London wine bars or restaurants.

I also enjoy trying the flights of three wines linked by grape and comparing the different treatments.  But next time I think up an award, I really must construct a snappier name.

Finally, you don’t have to drink wine, coffee and tea is available.  It is also very quiet, so I use it for meetings when I am in Piccadilly/Mayfair.  I used to frequent The Wolseley for this purpose but it is nowadays too busy.  Oh well, my secret is out.  I’ll have to find somewhere new, now.  Ciao.

I was thinking of writing a thoughtful and considered post tonight but I am starting to slip into Gary Lineker mode already.

McCLAREN OUT!  McCLAREN OUT!  I’ve been completely consistent on this.  Even after five 3-0 wins on the trot (to weak opposition) I still opined that Steve McClaren should resign with (not much) dignity.

The first mistake was made by the FA in the early Sven days when McClaren was appointed assistant with the openly stated aim that he was being groomed for next England manager, the only visible qualification being that he was English.  Then, when Sven was deposed, the FA, in their infinite wisdom, approached “Fil” Scolari and only when he turned the FA down did they grovel to McClaren and pretend it was his job all along.

Oh, how we now long for the Sven-Goran Eriksson days.  He was accused of being the “quarter final” man.  I’d rather have a “quarter final” man than one who can’t even qualify from possibly the easiest European group imaginable.  The last time England failed to qualify for a major tournament was when Graham “Turnip Head” Taylor failed to qualify for the 1994 World Cup.

To be honest, although I am bitterly disappointed that England have not qualified for Europe, one has to look for silver linings at desperate times like these.  The most obvious of which would be to hear of Steve McClaren’s immediate resignation, and if he doesn’t resign by midnight then the FA will lose 1% credibility for every minute after midnight tonight that they don’t sack him.  So they lose my support at 0140h on 22 November 2007 in such circumstance.

In the interim, please appoint Terry Venables as a temporary manager while we wait for someone worthwhile to become available (Martin O’Neill?, despite not being English).  El Tel will at least be capable of winning a few friendlies, and who knows, maybe one day Sven will throw his hat back into the ring???!!!

Talking of Sven that brings me to Man City and in the photo below I wonder if Georgios Samaras will ever play another game for my glorious team.  While I ponder, I sip away at Château de Cor Bugeaud 2005 to see if that will lift my spirits.

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I’ve got tennis elbow.  Or rather, I’ve got the super-modern equivalent: Wii wrist.  If you look at availability in the shops, and prices on Ebay, it seems that Nintendo are doing rather well compared to the overpriced, under specified and arrogantly marketed Sony Playstation 3.

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Although he made wines for Lafite and Latour, the Prince of Vines’ heart was allegedly in Calon.  But I wonder what the Marquis de Ségur would think of today’s vintage hype?  I tried a 2002 recently.  Not the most fashionable of recent vintages having been ambushed by 2000, 2003 and 2005 which were all breathtaking vintages of a lifetime.  Well, I guess wine writers, like cats, have nine lives, but limited hyperbolic capacity to describe a Bordeaux vintage.

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Shoe shops are fine places, especially if, like me, you like shoes.  There is nothing like the smell of a shoe shop.  Intoxicating and attractive, but I don’t eat shoes, I wear them.

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I have never been to the Ritz.  This maybe because I can’t afford it, or it could equally be because, to enjoy the Ritz fayre, I would have to bypass The Wolseley, right next door at 160 Piccadilly.  This is something I have not yet achieved.

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Is it just me, or has anyone else noticed that the latest season of CSI Miami is getting totally preposterous?  David Caruso as Lieutenant Horatio Caine was, after all, one of the coolest police officers on TV.  But the other night, with less than four minutes until a bomb destroyed a car in his compound, he calmly sat in it, then drove it down a 40 mile freeway, across two bridges, through a set of traffic lights, past numerous residences and deposited it on a beach (thankfully free of sunbathers) and coolly walked away from the car as it exploded in the background.  Puh-lease!  I’m going to stick to the vintage episodes when, for me, Caine was the perfect successor to the dysfunctional Las Vegas based Grissom, who himself was getting a bit preposterous.

Whilst on the topic of vintages, I found occasion to open a bottle I’ve been keeping for a few years.

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I read an interesting piece in the Times this week about the super high price of Bordeaux 2006.  Leave it alone.  It’s all been purchased by far eastern investors who are going to lose their money anyway.

Stick to 2005 and (as I keep saying) the cheaper marques.  For example Château Reignac de Tizac, Bordeaux Superieur.

The initial aroma was of iron rust.  A mineral, earthy and “muddy” wine.  Flavours of root vegatable perhaps beetroot, carrot, swede (turnip).  Some spicy peppery notes of watercress?

Not a particularly delicate wine and not one I would drink on its own, but went very well with chargrilled lamb.  You know that meat and veg go together well!

OK so not the most glowing review and not the best 2005 Bordeaux I have yet tasted, but I would still recommend that you try it.  This one came from the  Wine Society at a paltry £5.25.

Above all I urge you to try any cheap 2005 Bordeaux you can find from wherever you buy your wine and leave 2006 to the “investors”.

I am a big fan of Oliver Sweeney.  No, he is not a pop star, nor an artist, but a shoemaker.  Think of him as the Paul Smith of shoes.  Designs for the guy who still thinks he is younger than he is, but appreciates quality without the stuffiness of “city” attire.  They are fun shoes but they are not cheap.  The killer feature is that unlike most shoes you may buy (albeit at less than half the price Oliver charges), his shoes actually fit first time and you don’t need to break them in.  Only one pair of Ollies have I ever suffered blisters from.  Compare that to Barker’s, Church’s, Grenson’s, Cheaney or other leading (and expensive) brands that can take weeks to break in.  So why can’t winemakers in Bordeaux make wines that one can drink straight away?  Where is the Oliver Sweeney of the Bordelais?

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After numerous weeks of seemingly endless rain, I was close to completing my ark.  However, still no closer to cutting the lawn which was starting to look like a very green field with very long grass on it.  Then one evening we had a breakthrough.  The sun shone and I went outside looking for pairs of worms, slugs, blackbirds, snails and magpies to take with me on my maiden voyage.  They all seemed to be absent, so in desperation I mowed the lawns.

Now, my front lawn is on an angle of about 45 degrees, so I have to mow it wearing golf spikes, but with a petrol mower, this is the gardening equivalent of climbing the north face of Everest in a t-shirt and a thong.

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