In a mid budget hotel in central Manchester, the CEO of a small software company took the stage to address his staff. It was the day after his 50th birthday, business was going well, but a plot had been hatched. There were no traitors at the gate on this occasion. We are not Nabisco. Merely the pleasant surprise of a presentation of a birthday gift, a certain, and very generous, bottle of wine.
Is 2004 Bordeaux ready to drink yet? In 2010, Max Wine Gallery right in the centre of the home of wine, was serving 2004 first growths to those (including me) prepared to pay €15 for a tiny 25ml taster sample. Even back then it tasted just great.
2004 was not the most notable of years, hijacked as it was after the millennial 2000 and just before the vintage of a lifetime, 2005. At least that kept the critics quiet until the vintage of an aeon, 2009, ripped up the price books and had mouths foaming like Englishmen (and possibly Chinamen) out in the midday sun.
At two separate Wine Society events recently, one wine has stood head and shoulders above the rest for me, and I have been looking for an opportunity to shout it out.
However, it raises a wider issue about wine branding. When it comes to certain wines (mostly French if I am honest) I like to think that I should be able to choose the original wine over one badged by a retailer. So am I being immodest to think that I can do better than an institution that has been around since 1874? Am I <gasps> a “wine snob”?  And worse, an ill-informed one to boot?
After a visit to the Wine Gallery in Bordeaux where I tasted some of the best (or in any case, most expensive) wines in the world, La Brasserie Bordelaise was the destination for a bloody, but fatty, grisly and tough, entrecôte steak. What could match the power of Château Latour or Cheval Blanc to accompany such a dish?
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.
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.
Back to reality, with tonight’s University Challenge yielding less than 5 points to the Wino intellect (or lack of). And this despite a dumbing down of questions this series, to include word games, “modern” music and, of all things, 20th century architecture.
My lack of success at quiz events is partly due to lack of knowledge, and partly due to lack of due care and attention. I think they named a driving offence after me. But there must be some random knowledge stored up there in the old grey matter. For example, I am sure I heard that the wines of Margaux are feminine and gently perfumed.
Château Durfort-Vivens Margaux 2003, a deuxième cru from Lucien Lurton who also owns another 2nd growth Margaux property, Château Brane-Cantenac, 82.3784% Cabernet Sauvignon with 9.632% Cabernet Franc and the remainder Merlot. 20 months in oak.
If you want to read stuff like this go somewhere serious like www.decanter.com. If facts bore you and you prefer the experience of wine, then why not join me having fun as I learn.
Multi-talented Morgan Meunier arrived at our table after the meal, presumably looking for a round of applause for his culinary artistry. “Was everything OK?” he wondered. Super. “Was there anything specific we particularly liked?”. The seabass with crayfish and tarragon ravioli and lobster velouté was my favourite, but why were all his dishes so bloody complicated?
When one reaches one’s forties, birthdays are quickly forgotten. They are not anticipated with the same excitement of youth, rather the disdain and fear of middle age. Nonetheless, they are still a cause for celebration and an opportunity to go and splash a few quid on some top nosh and wine. This year we went to Linen in the lofty (metaphorically and physically) surroundings of Manchester 235 Casino.
My camera was not welcome for obvious reasons. The discretion of the clients (and I will indiscreetly mention that most of the Man United team were in that evening) is clearly important. I am also sick of getting papped by photographers from the Daily Mail who have clearly mistaken me for a footballer or some TV star (yeah right…).
Stumble It!