Confessions of a Wino

Chez Clément has many branches in Paris and one in Nantes.  Is this the French version of Chez Gerard? Je pense que oui!

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I think I may be a wine magpie.  I keep buying so much more wine than I could possibly drink.  It’s the explorer in me – I just want to keep trying new things.

But enough is enough, so I made time to do a little sorting through my wine rack (I didn’t dare unpack the combine harvester – that’s a week’s work).  I was surprised to realise how much French wine I have in store – about 70% of my entire collection is French.  Quelle horreur!  Why oh why when it is so expensive?

Three reasons:

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There is a lot written about matching wine to food.  There are some basic rules which I tend to follow and it’s never as simple as white with fish, red with meat.  It’s more about trying to find a balance of complementary styles.  For example, have you noticed that cheese is often served with sweet fruits like grapes?  So, no big surprise that sweet wine goes excellently with most cheeses.

On the occasion of a barbie on the balcony, I was trying to balance simply barbecued sardines with dill and lemon, fresh spring lamb chops with rosemary, and a warm summer afternoon.

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This week I am off to see a cricket match (US readers start snoring now).  However this bottle looks more like a baseball bat (RoW readers look on in awe and dismay).

This late harvest (November 2007) from Gavi certainly has a striking bottle.  What about the wine though?

It is the colour of healthy pee and has a sort of pungent sweetness, but I expected it to be sweeter.  In fact it had good acidity and the overall balance of Michael Vaughan combined with the aggression and flair of Kevin Pietersen.  The taste is of Tropicana grapefruit juice and pear juice with some lemon zest and a bit of sherbet dip. Very refreshing as an aperitif but as a food match it went superbly well with pitta bread and hummus.

I picked it up at Majestic for £8.69

A trip to Bournemouth last year resulted in me bringing home the best red wine I ever drank, a 1982 Camensac.

Browsing through Majestic the other day, I spotted the 1996 vintage at £19.99.  Only one course of action was available to me, and for once, my bank manager obliged.

It felt right to open this on the anniversary of the barbecue that saw the 1982’s fifteen minutes of fame (and I was surprised that it lasted 15 minutes, so cherished was it by the St Helens massive).

This 1996 Haut-Médoc, at 12 years old, is surely drinking well by now?  I was surprised at the amount of tannins still attacking my upper gums, but, consumed contemporaneously with simply barbecued lamb chops, it was excellent.  Liquorice, blackcurrant, cedar and parsnip – yum.  15 minutes later, it was gone.  With only one bottle in my basket, we had to wave goodbye to the French nobility and make friends with an impudent teenager from the New World.

I am no expert in these matters but I sense that Château Camensac 1996 will keep a good while longer and I shall probably pop back to Majestic for another couple of bottles to squirrel away in my combine harvester.

Maybe Rowan Gormley took offence at my assessment of Virgin Wines as good for everyday glugging because he dropped me an email suggesting that I try something more serious from the Virgin stable.  I already have problems with my neighbours over a Leylandii hedge, so being an anagrammatic sort of a guy, this Landelia sounded appealing.  And in any case, since I am a sucker for pretty much any Argentinean Malbec, I had to try it.

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New Zealand Sauvignon Blancs have had a good time recently but I think the old world is fighting back with aplomb.

To support my case I am going to ask you when the last time you tried a Sancerre – any Sancerre.  Or a Pouilly Fumé?  Find the right one and you get sublime Sauvignon Blanc with more subtlety than the impudent new world youths.

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My second favourite film of all time is “The Italian Job” – I mean the original one with Michael Caine, Noel Coward, Benny Hill et al.  So this barmy April weather had me on the balcony humming “On days like these” by Matt Munro and that got me thinking “hold on lads, I’ve just had a great idea!” and searched my collection of Pinkos for an Italian Job.

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