Confessions of a Wino

I used to love the Sunday Times Wine Club regular cases.  I still admire their marketing and I still order plenty of wine from them.  I just think that, once a member for a couple of years or so, one is better placed to select wines personally rather than take the regular mixed cases.  Having said that, the mixed cases are by far the best value.  What a dilemma?

I reconcile this dilemma by continuing my subscription to a single mixed case programme.  The ”President’s Cellar” delivers 6 bottles every six months at about £20 a cork.  It does encourage me to try new wines occasionally.  Generally the wines are for drinking, rather than laying down, and just occasionally they are not from Bordeaux or Burgundy.

This is how I acquired this St Joseph Rhône Ranger - I don’t know whether it is still available.  The 2003 is still on the website at £16.91 per bottle.  I have no idea whether this represents any better value than the 2001.

Made from 100% Syrah (I think) and aged in 50% new oak and 50% older oak casks, the 2001 is subtle with no strong aromas.  The taste is spicy and fruity.  Black pepper, fresh mint leaf and basil, with some bilberry, fig and peach.

Intense and concentrated flavour, it lasts forever in the mouth and is superb with rump steak.  But, then it should be for the price!

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 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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In the restaurant world, turning a great local eaterie into a “concept” that can be rolled out across the world is a great danger.  New branches often lack the authenticity, the passion of the owners, the attention to detail and the personal service.  I have just discovered a text book example of failure at Sam’s Chop House in Leeds.

Sam’s Chop House in Manchester is one of my favourite places to eat in the whole world.  After 130 years of success, of which, before you ask, I have only contributed to 20 or so, why the owners felt the time was right to dilute their brand is a complete mystery.  Sams’ in Leeds is as far away an experience from the Manchester parent, as a wet weekend in Cleethorpes compares to a Caribbean cruise.

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Is it possible to feel remote in a city centre?  I think it is.  I am not talking about loneliness, or feeling culturally distant from people stood next to you.  I am talking about sitting in silence whilst the world goes on several floors below.  This is what the atmosphere is like at The Modern in Manchester.

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There are occasional tiny slivers, splinters of darkness in my life, that give me a sharp reminder of what I am giving up for my work.  It’s not that I resent it, entirely my own choice after all.  When I started the company in 2001, I went in with my eyes open.  I realised it would mean sacrifices.

This afternoon I took my 10 year old god-daughter to see Man City.  The look of delight on her face when City beat Spurs 2-1 was matched only by my relief at the end of an awful run of games that had put us on a snake track slithering down the league table.

Kellie came over from Dublin for the weekend with her sisters, Rebecca and Chloe - all gorgeous girls, well behaved, entertaining, polite, model children.  Kellie is obviously my favourite and she is the footie fan, tomboy, fitness fanatic, make-up-rejecting bundle of energy.

And now they have all gone and I am alone in the flat.  It’s strange how lonely you can feel when sudden mayhem is suddenly replaced by a sudden quantum of solace.

So to cheer me up, apart from consoling myself that City are back on the ladder of success, I have dragged out my notes from a bottle of Shampoo I sampled last weekend.

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In deepest Evian-les-Bains I found one of the best wine shops ever.  La Cave à Paul had such a wide range of Armagnacs going back to the year dot.  But they had none from 1964 (year of my birth), so I settled for second best 1966 (last time England won the World Cup).

And when I got home I discovered that I had also (sort of) unknowingly bought some duty free Armagnac by Sempé (we flew from Geneva, Switzerland).  It was time for a taste test.  But hang on!  There is more complication because I had also invested in Riedel glasses.  The Cognac glass is a small tulip (on the left of the photo below), whereas a traditional Cognac or Armagnac glass is a bowl (shown on the right).  An interesting experiment was to ensue…. 

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Tomorrow I have to place 44 candles on a birthday cake, light them and blow them out.  What will I wish for?  While I deliberate, my body decays albeit slowly, and I am enjoying a glass of fizz before heading out for dinner.

Scottish shortbread, grapefruit notes and possibly a little lime.  I find this a little too acidic to be truly memorable.

I have to admit that I know very little about champagne.  I enjoy drinking it but I need to learn more about what makes one better than another.  So whilst I did not get on greatly with Waitrose Vintage, this should not put you off trying it for yourself.

Have to dash - off to eat and yes, I am taking my notebook.

As for my birthday wish?  It won’t be for another bottle Waitrose Vintage Champagne.