Confessions of a Wino

I’ve held my tongue with remarkable virtue on the subject of Man City this season.  Although I never favoured Mark Hughes’ appointment, neither do I support chopping and changing every five minutes.  So I have been inclined to give him more time.  After tonight’s abject 3-0 defeat at Spurs, I admit my patience is being stretched like a City banker’s tax return.

More time is something I ought to devote to US wines, largely ignored on this site – only 14 of Big Sam’s offerings ever receiving the courtesy of a mention.  So here is a little redress.

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Looking for alcohol to numb the pain of having to watch Strictly Come Dancing, I tangoed across to my wine rack to find something easy drinking, fruity and cheap, like Craig Breville-Toaster

I found this Côtes de Thongue from the Wine Society at a mere £4.95.  Made in the increasingly popular South of France, a region that most wine merchants are pushing as recession friendly gluggers, this stands out as something more sincere.  Cheaper than a budgie’s twitter, but tastier than a topless bird on a St Tropez beach, this smells and tastes of two childhood sweets:  Pear drops and pineapple cubes.  Don’t expect fine wine at this price but I’ve tasted many uglier wines at double the Roubles.  And as for Strictly – is it still on?????

At some point in your life, birthdays stop being beacons shining light on a promising future and instead become lamp posts illuminating yesterday’s gloomy streets.  A time to look back longingly at your youth and wonder what might have happened if you hadn’t bought that Ford Escort with the faulty brakes, or kissed that fat bird with dentures behind the bike sheds at school.

But the lacerations eventually healed and I was able once again to enjoy eating the sweets of my generation without the nightmare of that mousetrap snog to haunt my tongue.

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As I sit here contemplating a meaningless friendly against France (meaningless since Signor McClaren failed to qualify England for the 2008 European Championships) I thought I would tip a nod to our new head coach by sampling a bottle of Carpallo.  Now Sr Capello is Italian, whereas this wine is Spanish.  Sr. Capello is a heavyweight, and this wine is a lightweight.  Sr. Capello is serious, whereas my comparison to a wine named Carpallo is inane and trite.  Then again, Sr. Capello has picked David Beckham in the squad which is a bit of a laugh and not exactly building for the future is it?  My final comparison is that Condes Carpallo is dirt cheap, whereas Sr. Capello is very very expensive indeed.  Which one delivers the best value?

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Raymond Burr was considered by some to be a TV genius.  Robert T. Ironside was super-attorney, Perry Mason’s succesor (in his acting career).  Personally I much preferred cigar slugging Columbo.

Talking of American trash, I’ve had to add a new category for this post which shows how much wine I drink from the world’s only remaining super-power.  I have had bad experiences of US wine in the past, perhaps based on the cheap end of the Gallo range, so I didn’t have high hopes from this one:

Ironstone Vineyards 2004 Chardonnay/Viognier  from California retails at about £7 a bottle. Surely £6 of that must be shipping costs and £1 duty (or is that vice versa) so exactly how much is spent on the wine?

I was astounded by the quality.  Uncle Sam, I apologise, even if you are bald (and especially if you are listening in via spyware or remote listening device).  A gorgeous smell of gooseberries led to flavours of pear slices in yoghurt.  Fresh fruit salad and natural yoghurt is such a great breakfast starter (as long as it’s followed by bacon and poached eggs).  Much superior to taking a cyanide pill.