Confessions of a Wino

And so Eurovision has come and gone and, for once, the UK didn’t come last.  In fact we made a creditable 5th place, although we had to recruit the noble Lord Webber of Musicals to write us a tune and, predictably, the singer had to come from a reality TV show.

Some have criticised Eurovision in recent years alleging tactical voting as being the cause of the UK’s fall from grace.  I say our entries were just pap and wouldn’t have troubled the scorer in a hitting a barn door with a banjo competition.

Highly variable results is something you get used to when you drink Burgundy.  Was Jean Grivot Nuits-St-Georges Les Lavières 2004 a “Waterloo” or did it score null points?

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I’m not having much luck with my latest Burgundies from the Wine Society.  This one would have cost £24.25 if it had not been included in a cheapo Burgundy bin end case.  The 2004 is available at £28.50 – maybe that is a better bet now?

The 2001 I opened the other evening was slightly oxidised but there was clear evidence of a super wine under the dull acidity.

Apple and blackberry, raspberry and ginger.  It tipped a good nod to Pinot Noir with the smell you get when you chuck damp leaves on a fire.  It wasn’t so badly oxidised as to make it undrinkable but a £25 Nuit St-Georges like this should have had me in ecstasy rather than objectivity.  Shame.

It seems that people haven’t stopped spending after all.  January 2009 retail sales in the UK were actually 0.7% higher than last month and a whopping 3.6% higher than Jan 08.  Analysts (who are these anonymous experts?  It’s like reading about comments from “community leaders” after a local riot) suggest that deep discounting in the January sales was the cause.  Whatever.  It shows that if you can get your value proposition right, people will still buy.

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Confessions of a Wino is sad to announce the passing of the last bottle of Château Gris in my combine harvester.  Specifically it was passed about two hours after I drank it.

This 1999 Pinot Noir was part of the first case of wine I ever bought en primeur.  A 1er cru Nuit St Georges I think it cost about £25 per bottle, which is at the top end of my range and reflective of the sometimes cheeky prices the Bourgogne domaines think they can get away with, for often variable wines.

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A letter arrived.  Not an email.  Not a text message.  Not even a telegram or a greeting card.  A letter, hand written, addressed to me, and delivered to the office.

Of course, I remember the days before this eloquent and pulchritudinous form of communication was rudely re-branded snail mail. Nowadays, I have to admit that I cannot recollect the last time I received a hand written letter.  This particular letter resulted in an uncommon sequence of events that lead me to Tingewick, a pretty country village in Buckinghamshire.

Tingewick, close to the intersection of the three counties of Bucks, Northants, and Oxon, is an architectural melting pot.  16th century thatched cottages huddle awkwardly next to 1940’s council houses like new kids meeting at school.  Grand mansions look down on their tiny peers who appear to doff their tiled roofs in deference.  Residents include a well known rock guitarist, a lottery winner, and my estranged Godmother.

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I did once manage to get some sort of degree from Leeds University Business School which is not exactly the Ivy League.  Still it stood me in good stead for being comprehensible – occasionally.  Sadly this was not true when I visited The Ivy with the wife.

Being in the West End we opened with a quick glass at the Cork & Bottle on Cranbourn Street and swiftly moved on to the surprisingly quiet location next to the St Martin’s Theatre where The Mousetrap has been playing since 1436:

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