Confessions of a Wino

If Ian Fleming, the creator of James Bond, named this his favourite restaurant, and Adrian Gill, erstwhile restaurant critic of the Sunday Times, also raves about the place (albeit that he is presumably on a retainer for writing about the history of most of the major restos in Caprice Holdings Ltd), then any self respecting wino has to visit.  Sunday lunch is just the perfect time to eat oysters, and my rocks were from Malden.  I am embarrassed, though, to admit I had to ask the waiter to explain that Essex is where these crustacea were reared.  I am such a northern oik!

The service at Scott’s is obviously superb, highly professional and (unusually) English.  However, our waiter was having an off day.  I had to ask three times for my wine to be topped up.  You may be thinking “lazy so and so” but I would have had to walk about 300 yards to get to my bottle of Pouilly Fumé from where they parked it.  Talking of which can you spot our car in the photo below?

No I can’t see it either.

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Is there anything worse than spending 7 hours in the car in one day?  Well, how about 8 gruelling hours at, according to my trip computer, an average speed of 57mph, punctuated by two meetings in different towns with different companies, in which I play different roles, and have completely different thought patterns?  Then followed by numerous conference calls (for which I pulled off the motorway, obviously).

I set off at 5:45am this morning, and I have just got home at 9:0pm.  I resemble a panda that has been on a scientific sleep deprivation experiment.  Dark rims around my eyes like the stain left by a bottle of Pinot Noir on a ghost white tablecloth.  And you should see what my peepers look like from this side!

As a treat before I conk out in bed, I am sampling Trenel Morgon 2005 Côte de Py.

My first reaction is that it is much more serious than your average Beaujolais, but then again, Morgon is one of the crus that tends towards longevity, albeit lacking the joie de vivre of, say, Fleurie.

Cherry flavoured tannins combine with fresh tomatoes and a little meringue.  Superb with pink lamb steaks (must be chargrilled or barbecued).

It is available from The Wine Society for £7.95.  Good value I reckon.  zzzzzzz zzzzz zzzz zz z good night…..

Btw, can you name all the Beaujolais crus?  Here is your starter for ten - Côte-de-Brouilly, Chénas, Chiroubles, Fleurie, Juliénas, Morgon, Moulin-à-Vent, Saint Amour - can you spot the missing ones?  Big pat on the back if you can.  No prizes because I haven’t set up my premium rate telephone line yet.

I don’t get much time to read.  I catch up on enterprise software stuff when I can.  I read certain wine blogs and books - the usual factual ones that any wino has nosed in and out of.  I can’t remember the last time I read a novel.  So when Random House sent me an advance copy of Benjamin Wallace’s fact-based novel-style yarn, I didn’t feel obliged to read it.  Instead, I gave it to Fred (an avid reader) to see what she made of it - “lacking a firm conclusion” she erm concluded.

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I am sitting here idly watching a football match.  It is Euro 2008 and I am watching with aggressive disinterest because my team (England) did not qualify.  Players from the other teams I am, by ancestry or marriage, entitled to support - Scotland and Ireland, are also sat on a beach somewhere spending their “hard-earned” footballers’ wages on pina coladas.

Like Euro 2008, my world tour of Pinot Noirs has had plenty of representatives from across Europe but not one from the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.  So much for global warming.

This one came from the spiritual home of Pinot Noir, Burgundy.  Part of the ancient footballing nation of Gauls.  And in the religion that celebrates this fickle red grape, whether or not worshipping les bleus, the Cathédrale Notre Dame is the Cote D’Or.

Delivered via the Sunday Times Wine Club in a “Pure Pinot Noir” case for £69.99, this is a basic Bourgogne AOC from 2004, but still well priced at just over £7 (about a gallon of gasoline for US readers).

I found it tasted of gooseberry, redcurrant, blackberry and damp logs with a little earthiness thrown in as if to acknowledge the religious origins of my argument.  Slightly on the acidic side but very nice and I’d definitely drink it again.  I would recommend serving it fairly well chilled - give it at least an hour in a household fridge before opening.

In theory Dublin should be one of the best places in the world to eat shellfish, since Dublin Bay prawns and oysters are shipped far and wide.  Intrigued to see if the Irish kept any for themselves, I tracked down Ivan’s in Howth (pronounced as in “hoe” not “how”), an offshoot from legendary fish and chip emporium Beshoff’s that has been clogging Dubliners’ arteries since 1913.

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I stumbled across this branch of Nicolas in bustling Soho.  Wine shops are magnets to my liver and I felt the power dragging me across the street and in through the door like I was a hypnotised automaton.

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“Armstrong and Miller in Gay Threesome Shocker” read the headline, admittedly only in my head, as the comedy pair walked past us with an unknown accomplice, perhaps a BBC commissioning editor?

“I didn’t know they were gay” Fred said.  “They aren’t” I replied, “so far as I know anyway”, although judging by their choice of fruity shirts one cannot be 100% certain.

We had a decent table near the magnificent bay window atop the ageing Whiteley’s Shopping Centre.  The stars were enveloped by the bay.  The atmosphere is light and airy and the service prompt, efficient, courteous and professional.  Our mop-topped waiter looked like an early 60’s Beatle, so I assumed he was French (as a nation they do like old music - I mean, walk around any public space in France and Phil Collins persists like a 1980’s itch that is weeping puss).  When he described the cheese I realised his French accent was completely fake “erm….. I is Polish” he admitted.  Nonetheless, serve he did, and he was knowledgeable about wine as well as food.

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Regular readers know that I sampled the Auction service at Virgin Wines with mixed results.  I discovered recently that they have started auctioning Cloudy Bay 2007.  Fabulous idea!  Everyone knows the price of Cloudy Bay.  Although Harvey Nichols sells it every year for about £16-18, other retailers struggle to keep it below £20.  The Sunday Times Wine Club sells it at a rip-off £26.95!  Virgin Wines?  You can start bidding at £1 for 6 bottles!

So I raced to the site and discovered with disappointment that, with 18 hours still to go, the bidding was already at £131 for a half case (£21.83 per bottle).  It only took me 1 minute on Google to find it at £18.99 at lebonvin.co.uk.  I am not saying that £131 for 6 is bad value, though.  It just pays to keep an eye on availability elsewhere if you value your coins.  Well worth visiting Virgin and placing a bid of £50 or so, just in case! I am going to keep going back for a look.

Anyway, the cricket saison est arrivé, and tomorrow I managed to get a ticket (sold out) for England vs New Zealand at Old Trafford (Manchester).  I know what you are thinking, how on earth is he going to tie all this nonsense back into a post about a wine from Touraine?  Listen carefully, I am about to begin…..

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I spent a week in the Beaujolais region during the vendange of 2005.  Don’t be stupid, I wasn’t picking grapes, merely relaxing, doing a little walking, some good eating and plenty of wine drinking.  My favourite spot was Fleurie with two great little bistro restaurants and one, more famous, mushroomy one with a star from some rubber company (too expensive and too indoors for me so I didn’t bother).

Personally I loved Café de la Bascule, where properly chilled local wines were poured over lazy autumn sunsets, accompanied by fine, but rustic, French food and just a pinch of French arrogance to season.

At the time, the marvellous 2003 vintage was running out fast.  People were fighting like Biafrons at an impromptu pizza party to get the last bottles, and being a big fat bloke, I managed to grab a few from local suppliers.

It turns out that 2005 was a pretty nifty year too, and I recently realised I had not tried much.  So off to the Wine Society website to see what was left.

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The magic of modern technology means this post is brought to you whilst I am travelling on England’s East Coast Mainline.  If only the wireless internet was as fast as the train, though.

The franchise, which used to be run with aplomb by GNER, has recently been acquired by National Express.  The first change I noticed was that they had re-priced the wireless connection according to average bandwidth achieved - yes - it is now zero cost, free of charge, 3 bits per second allowing you to download the home page of Confessions in only 12 minutes but at least no negative effect on your wallet (or purse) .  Otherwise things seem “same old, same old” and as ever infinitely superior to the west coast service operated (without aplomb) by Virgin.  I am in the fortunate position of often being able to choose which service I take to London and that is why I am here right now.

In addition to railways, in life generally, I tend to make choices based on snapshots, mere slivers of experience, and hence I am many times more likely to choose a wine from Burgundy or Bordeaux, than the Rhône Valley.  This is a shame - especially on the evidence offered by this bottle.

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