Confessions of a Wino

In what turned out to be the fortunate circumstance of a cancelled flight, I found myself in Bordeaux for an unexpected extra night.  This gave me the opportunity to fulfil a bit of a dream.

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.

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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.

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A revisit to this wine that I last enjoyed (immensely) a couple of years ago.  I am almost sorry that I have just glugged my last bottle of Château Sociando-Mallet 2001.  On this form I really ought to order some more, but it has gone up in price rather a lot since I purchased.  Up to £40 per bottle right now.  Ooof – one in the nuts for my wine budget.  Actually, I was one of those footballing kids who used to duck when planted in the wall.  I also made my own a useful, if cowardly, habit of turning around as the kick was taken, to protect my valuables at the expense of seeing the ball.  Oh well, it’s only a goal isn’t it?  On reflection, I am surprised I never made it into the England squad, when you look at the current crop.

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I wrote recently about Mahi Pinot Noir 2008 and provoked a bit of a reaction.  “Unfiltered” is obviously some kind of USP.  I rudely described it as “Cloudy” and not in the “Bay” sense.

Respondents pointed out that I may have treated the wine with less than the respect I would reserve for David Hohnen, at least in terms of preparation of my dining table and wine servature.

I have just spanked the last of three bottles, and this one has been slightly chilled and stood upright for four days.  But it still looks and, more importantly tastes, cloudy.

The flavours are fine, almost lovely.  But the mouthfeel is more Myrtle Beach than Mâcon Rouge.  Taste quite nice, texture not for me.  Sorry, not for £18.

So the World Cup is under way and the Spanish are hardly justifying their place at the top of the bookmakers’ lists, with the defence doing a passable impression of a kilo of Emmental.  Probably not much of that being sold in Spain tonight.

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.

The big thing about buying wine in bond is that you are supposed to stash some aside for drinking later.  Especially if, like me, you are fortunate enough to own a Combine Harvester.

So how come, I’ve already drunk 7/12 of these bottles that arrived from the Sunday Times Wine Club in August 2009 with a recommended drinking date of up to 2014?

Well, good is good, and brilliant is brilliant, but this wine is awesome.  I can’t stop pouring it down my neck as if I was a human decanter.  Smooth yet spicy and zingy, it is everything I could wish of a Pinot Noir.  Tar, tea, cranberry and redcurrant and worth every penny of the £21 per bottle it eventually cost me.

Finally, one in the eye for the Kiwi arrivistes.

Why does the Daily Mail keep shooting us in the foot?  In the latest Lord Triesman sting, I support Gary Lineker.  Actually I have always tried very hard to avoid the newspaper whose only purpose, in my opinion, apart from being the moral voice of useless old tossers, is to bring down anyone in authority.  Anyone…

I am thinking of emigrating to Uruguay where I hear that newspapers are, if not more rational, then at least more patriotic.  Ironic in a way when you think of the xenophobic tone of some Mail articles.

Uruguay produced this fab Tannat which I enjoyed with a bacon omelette (smoked dried cured streaky, since you asked).

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2004 was, by most commentators, considered to be a good year in Rioja, and Laguardia might be the prettiest village in all of Northern Spain.  So this wine has two things going for it already.

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With a name sounding like a female porn star’s anal discomfort, this wine is also priced to make the eyes water.

From the Wine Society at £20, it tastes of cinnamon, stewed fruit and rotting veg.  Hits most Pinot Noir benchmarks but possibly a bit rich at that price.

I’ve been trying a few reds from South West France like this one from the Wine Society.  Mostly my experience has been good.  No, astonishing!

This rich smoky bomb is no exception.  Like inhaling a beetroot and blackberry flavoured firework.  Not so much representative of its terroir as made from the very scorched earth the vines are grown in.  From the vintage that deep fried numerous Gauls, this is a red-blooded hot spicy mama.

Gunpowder and plot (maybe without the treason, but you never know in France).  Truly delicious and at £7.95, a bargain.