1 February 2012 - Georgian Mildred

Powder snow crunched underfoot. I edged around the corner of the old winery; isolated in the high Caucasus, not far from the Russian border. Clammy sweat traced my spine despite the freezing temperature. I tried to suppress my breath, lest it give me away and spook my quarry. There he was. George. He hadn’t seen me, his eye-line beneath his collar. I took my opportunity, maybe the last I’d get before the Georgians bundled him into the coach and away to safety. My index finger hovered. I took the shot. Calm and clean, but it would be some moments before I could tell if I’d hit the mark.

I had landed in Tbilisi 48 hours earlier, as one of a number of international delegates invited by the Georgian government to discover the country’s wines. Cosseted from the outset, I had dined with dignitaries, met with winemakers and attended a trade tasting; all as part of a push to raise international awareness of where many consider to be the birthplace of wine.
            As to exactly when people first noticed that grape juice fermented into wine will likely remain conjecture. Depending on your sources, dates vary from 6000 to 9000 BC; but it is widely accepted that the people of the High Caucasus, in which Georgia nestles, were the first to cultivate vines and make wine. The country is justly proud of this. Wine is ingrained in folklore, preserved in legend and glorified in architecture to a level not encountered elsewhere. But whilst history intrigues me, what had brought me to Georgia was a desire to find out whether the wines were any good now.
            A look at the statistics tells you they should be. The country has the ideal topography, climate and soils to make wine to rival the world’s best. It also has 500 native grape varieties. (Thankfully for those of us wanting to get acquainted with the wines, only about 40 are used commercially.) But a cursory peek at recent history makes the prospect of quality wine less certain. The twenty years since independence from Soviet rule is not a long time to shake off the communist paradigm of collective winemaking practices that are never conducive to quality. Thus my expectations weren’t high as I attended the trade tasting.

The tasting started well with a few fresh, modern styles, mostly made from the indigenous white Rkatsiteli, Mtsvane and Chinuri, and the characterful red Saperavi amongst others. But things took a turn for the worse in an area signed ‘Natural Wine’.
            ‘Natural’ is the latest buzzword in the wine world, with more column inches than the Acropolis currently devoted to it in the trade press. It’s the phenomenon of growing grapes and making wine with no mechanical manipulation or chemical intervention. In Georgia natural wine is often fermented underground in kvevri (see below), clay vessels that differ little from those used in Neolithic times.
            What I previously encountered had convinced me that the resurgence was faddish: the equivalent of crafting an iPad from wicker. What I tasted now did nothing to sway me. The wines were oxidised (having had prolonged and loosely controlled exposure to air, something most winemakers fervently avoid) and bitter, having been left with the skins for too long in fermentation: in all, simply wrong!
            ‘I can tell you’re not impressed.’ A ruddy-cheeked winemaker eyed me with paternal indulgence as I scribbled my notes. ‘Consider that we intend the wines to taste so.’
            Intrigued by the notion that preconception had clouded my judgment, I tasted all of the wines again, this time allowing for the proposition that they should have an oxidised style and be more bitter than I was used to.

It was a complete revelation. Placing those elements to one side allowed me to view the wines afresh. In some cases I found further faults! Instances of under-ripe grapes, poor wine hygiene and careless handling lowered my initial scores for these wines; but with others I found that setting aside those first prerequisites allowed me to discover pleasing flavours and characters that I’d not been patient enough to find before. There were a handful of truly great wines I’d initially written off and now found myself really enjoying.

That afternoon I was delighted to have found something that had challenged my preconceptions and wrong footed my tastebuds, so I elected to discover as many natural wines as I could on the trip. This I may have indulged in a little too enthusiastically over lunch at the winery in the mountains on the last day. I can find no other explanation for my engaging in an afternoon-long challenge with the other English wine trade delegate to get the best photograph of George − from the seventies sitcom George and Mildred − look-alike. An unusual undertaking I grant you, but refreshingly challenging nonetheless – a bit like Georgian wine… 

22 August - Wine tasting with Hezbollah

The battered Toyota minibus skidded to a halt beside me, dust billowing in the late afternoon heat. Three Hezbollah soldiers spilled from its rear door and ran towards me.

This I found somewhat unnerving, having spent my flight to Lebanon reading about the country’s turbulent political history. I had wondered how being English might affect my standing with the Sunni, Shia, Druze, Alawi and Marionite factions and whether I should ally myself to the Phalangist or Palestinian cause. In the end I had decided to do what came naturally and plead ignorance. Anyhow, I had nothing to worry about, according to a (with hindsight, less than well-informed) representative of the British Embassy in Beirut. ‘Everything is cool in Lebanon, don’t worry.’ It seems I’d sought advice from the wrong source, as had I called any other European embassy I now know that I wouldn’t have been alone in Baalbek (Hezbollah heartland) standing outside a delightfully tourist-free temple dedicated to Bacchus, the Roman god of wine.

Baalbek is at the northern end of Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley, a twenty mile wide plain abutted by two mountain ranges that run down the east and west flanks of Lebanon. Whilst sun-drenched and Mediterranean, the climate here is tempered by the cooling effect of altitude (900m) and mountain breezes. The overlooking peaks are often snow capped (the melt providing year round natural irrigation for the vines) and it has a rich variety of soils that are perfect for vine cultivation. 
         It is one of the world’s natural wine lands and was, via the Phoenicians, the vinous starting point for many of Europe’s wine regions. The conquering Romans thought highly enough of the valley to build the largest temple they ever dedicated to their wine god. Impressive on an Egyptian scale, the Temple of Bacchus remains remarkably well preserved despite nearby temples lying in ruins. Those Lebanese who are partial to a glass of wine put this down to divine intervention, whilst others choose to ignore the coincidence. Unusually for the Middle East there is a balance of both in the country; there being a large wine-drinking Christian minority (40%), and secular elements within the Muslim majority.
        The combination hasn’t always been a harmonious one (try Wikipedia, too much history for here!) and Lebanon’s problems have in the past stymied the development of the wine industry. However, peace since the end of the civil war (1975–1990) has allowed it to flourish, and the last five years alone have seen the number of wineries grow from 15 to 35 in number. Yet their total production is still only six million bottles (less than some supermarket ‘special’ offer bulk buys) which is why few in the UK even know that Lebanon produces wine, let alone will have tried any.

Some may have encountered Château Musar, a truly wonderful wine (age it ten years and you’ll find it even better - an elixir to marvel over) steeped in a history of wine production through adversity, but the story only begins there. The insuppressible optimism of the Lebanese winemaking community seems to know no bounds. There are eco-friendly state-of-the-art wineries being built into the hillsides, where minimum environmental impact is as important as the wines’ quality; the finest sites are being sought in the mountains (cooler and with the best soils) and planted with a view to producing wines to rival the world’s very best, by people with the know-how to do so. There were a couple of wineries I visited whose exquisite output would easily grace the same tables as the stratospherically over-priced first-growths of Bordeaux; indeed I’ll be so bold as to say that in some cases they may even beat them in a professional blind tasting. But these wines are still in barrel and tank, yet to be released, so I’ll say no more for now.

It will take time and continued political stability for the wines of Lebanon to become more prominent in the UK, since they are at present being snapped up as quickly as they are produced; but should you chance upon them, do give them a try. There are of course some to avoid, as in any country, but if you’re feeling like experimenting with something new, try: Massaya (Berry Brothers), Château Musar(Majestic), Domaine des Tourelles Syrah du Liban (Lebanese Fine Wines), Kefraya(Great Western Wines) and you’ll get great value from Château Ksara(HallgartenDruitt).

The purpose of my visit I chose to keep secret from my decidedly tee-total Hezbollah inquisitors as they asked about the nature of my travel in Lebanon. I actually don’t think I’d have offended otherwise, as they were perfectly civil, only wanting to see if I wished to buy a rather natty tee-shirt loudly embroidered with a missile launcher motif. They encouraged me to take care as there’d been a kidnapping by another militant group in the area only a few months ago, something they were surprised hadn’t been mentioned by my embassy.
        My travel advice if you do go wine tasting in Lebanon? Don’t stray beyond where the (French) embassy suggests; or if you do, make sure you buy the tee-shirt.

August 16 2011 - The Wine Navigator - Now free and online!

We’ve done it! After two years compiling content and Andy coding until his fingers bled, we can now pull the switch and release The Wine Navigator from our imaginations and into the lives of anyone who has ever wanted to be a little more adventurous with their wine.

But now comes the hard part: getting people to know about it. That’s where we hope you might help us. If you like it, tell a friend or two, if not, tell me how we can improve it to work for you. 

www.wine-navigator.com

Any comments will be very warmly welcomed: francis@francisgimblett.com

I’ll even send all comments a pack of Wine Trumps - see http://www.thewineadventurer.com/wine-trumps.php

Cheers!

Francis

21 May - General Blogging - ‘Why is the wine trade so up its own…?’

This was a question asked of me at a wine tasting last night (thankfully before I took to the stage). There was a time, early in my career, when I would have taken offence at such an insult and offered a rebuke. Then came a period where veiled irritation was the order of the day, followed by one of paternal indulgence – I, the vinous vicar, piteous of an unbeliever. But now, when asked such a question, I too simply wonder why the wine trade is so up its own backside.

It’s not that it’s just dawned on me, as it is something that has troubled the Gimblett consciousness every time I have been among the gaggle of glugging glitterati at trade and wine institution tastings over the years. It’s just that I always felt I ought to defend my chosen profession.

So, for the first time, I have decided to put some thoughts down as to why the wine trade could be considered to have its head lodged somewhere that doesn’t allow it effective communication with its public.

I’m getting gooseberries, guava, and right on your nerves!
It’ll probably come as no revelation to learn that there is a huge amount of rubbish talked in the wine game. On hearing experts spout florid descriptions, most people have one of two reactions: one is that of suspicion, and the other is a belief that there’s some mystic art at play that is far too esoteric for mere mortals to comprehend.
        ‘I can’t taste that’ is most people’s reaction. If a wine guru tells you what aromas or flavours you absolutely should taste, they are a fraud and don’t understand their subject. Taste is particular to us all. When a wine expert writes a tasting note, it is written from their own point of reference and should be done to remind the writer of how the wine tasted to them and what that taste says about the wine. (Agreements can be found on more objective palate sensations such as acidity, sweetness etc.) Anyone can taste wine - we all have the tools to do so if we wish to apply them, it’s just a question of getting to know what the different aromas are telling you - how you choose to describe those aromas to others is, however quite subjective; there are no absolutes.

Wine institutionalised
As a child I spent much time in Hellingly Hospital, Britain’s last big lunatic asylum, surrounded by 3000 of the country’s mentally and criminally insane. This will not come as a surprise to anyone who knows me, but as a boy waiting outside his mother’s office (she was a nurse), it gave me a fascinating insight into the way the thought processes of those within institutions become collectivised and distanced from outsiders, no matter how pleasant the members of that institution may be (though, frankly, many patients made more sense to me then than some wine pundits do now). I wonder if this could be a reason for the distance felt between most punters and members of The Institute of Masters of Wine.

Education, education, education!
The devotees in wine circles seem hell-bent on earnestly ‘educating’ everybody about their favourite subject in the same way that a rain-soaked train spotter might want to engage you in theirs. The reality is that most people understandably don’t care to be educated about wine to a high level. It may be a subject that many have a passing interest in, but too many in the wine trade mistake the polite phrase: ‘I’ve always wanted to know a bit more about wine…’ as licence to put dinner guests to a slow death by detailing the peculiarities of soil types. I only hold a passing interest in classical music and so any expert professing a wish to educate me I would think arrogant at best and a bore at worst – a key complaint levelled at many a wine expert.
      Wine is not about education, it is an entertaining indulgence. Even for those within the loftiest heights of the wine world who, sour-faced and cobweb-nosed, creak between bottles of pre-war Château Lafite in an effort to discern whether a new tractor at the château in 1925 affected quality, it is entertainment. It is not humanitarian aid work or palliative care. It is not a matter of life or death, nor even an essential. It is something we indulge in to entertain us, whether as a relaxant, a sensual experience, or as a vehicle of information for those who crave it. (The aromatic compounds in wine are particular to grapes, places and moments, and each sniff and sip has the potential to take you somewhere new – the reason I have a train spotters zeal for wine.) Why then are aid workers and nurses on the whole not snobs or prone to self-aggrandisement in a way wine experts often are? Could it be that the former are secure in their worthy and essential public purpose, whereas the latter endure an insecurity born of the realisation that people could live perfectly well without what we in the wine trade do?

Whatever it may be, to me wine’s a passion, one that I find enriching and which has led me to places I’d never otherwise have encountered and people I’d never have met. Maybe it’s that personal experience where the passion resides rather than the subject matter itself. Who knows, perhaps if I’d once had a brief encounter with the Orient Express in my formative years, I might now be found reverently noting down train numbers at the end of a wet platform in Reading.

5 May - Slurp, Treasure, Avoid! - Good Day for PR!

Nothing to do with whether today will herald a change in our voting system, but instead for the Champagne chosen to celebrate the marriage of William and Catherine last Friday. As well as opening a bottle or two of Ridgeview and Denbies, we (somewhat reluctantly you understand) released the cork on a bottle of the white labelled interloper. (Well I suppose we should be grateful that they didn’t go for a German Sekt!)

NV Pol Roger. Extra Cuvée de Réserve
Treasure: Mature, elegant and flavoursome - a classic ‘British style’ Champagne.*
Good value at £35.00, better than a lot of ‘bling’ Champagnes at twice the price.
To experience: Take a large baking tin, line it with sweet pastry, add generous handfuls of peach, lemon peel, macadamia nuts, sultana and toffee chunks and fill with cake mixture. Bake and remove from the oven and once cool you’re ready to gorge yourself on Humble Pie.**

*Aged for longer before release. It even says British style on the back label - maybe that’s where the confusion lay?
**The Denbies and Ridgeview were every bit as good however and deserve to be on the same tables.

27 April - Slurp, Treasure, Avoid! - Sip back and think of England!

More sparkling alternatives for the royal couple.

Pol Roger can offer sale or return! This was confirmed by a quick call to their London offices, so it’s not too late for William and Catherine (Nee Kate) to see the light and drink for England on Friday.
Waitrose now have stock of Nyetimber and Ridgeview, so I took the opportunity to do a little more research for the couple this Easter break.

2008 Bloomsbury. Ridgeview. (Waitrose)
Treasure: A massage for the tongue. Voluptuous, fruit packed, supple and surprisingly mature for its age.
A revelation and cracking value at £16.99
To experience: Ask Zara Phillips to conduct aromatherapy with apple purée, lemon curd and marmalade in a cake shop.

2006 Nyetimber Classic. (Waitrose)
Slurp: Bold but elegant and packed with character.
Very good value at £23.99
To experience: I was told what I’d originally written here could be taken as treason. So I’ll just say the wine was more mature, though of similar breed to the Ridgeview. It had a nose of baked bread hints over sweet lemon and blossom; was backed by a palate with a mousse to put many a great Champagne to shame and had characters of lime, Cox apple and pear that lingered long after the glass was drained.
I preferred the original tasting note.

We also had a bottle of Roederer Champagne, which was an inferior drink to both of the above (rose-tinted spectacles aside). Majestic I am told are also stocking Chapel Down for the wedding. 

20 April - Slurp, Treasure, Avoid! – English sparklers for the royal couple.

In an attempt to encourage William and Kate to cancel their order for Pol Roger (see below), last night I undertook a bit of selfless research on their behalf: selfless as would a guard take a bullet for Her Majesty, as I wouldn’t wish either of them to feel the way I do this morning.  (Apparently I was impressed enough to leave little unguzzled! But I’m told it’s poor etiquette to waste any.)

Waitrose were out of Ridgeview and Nyetimber, so I bought their two other English offerings:

NV Vintage Reserve. Chapel Down Brut. (Waitrose)
The bottle has no vintage year. Perhaps they ‘Reserve’ the right not to state one?
Slurp: Fresh, grassy and herbal. 
On the money at £16.50.
To experience: Hide in a spring hedgerow waiting for the royal procession to pass.

2002 Denbies Greenfield Cuvée. (Waitrose)
Treasure: Rich, fruit-packed and benefiting from a little age.
Worth every penny of the £22.00 asked. 
To experience: Fling yourself along a street party trestle table piled high with macaroons, lemon cake and honey-coated walnuts.

15 April - Exclusive! British Royals to toast wedlock with French sparkler

A royal revelation

Being a patriotic sort I thought I’d recommend a few English sparkling wines to toast the happy couple on 29th April. After all, in the last few years we have become world-beaters in the world of fine bubbles. Our producers are rivalling and even beating big name Champagnes at prestigious competitions (more below); the best examples regularly fool my tasting audiences into thinking they are drinking fine Champagne; and, most importantly, it was an Englishman, and not (as widely thought) Dom Pérignon, that first put the sparkle in wine.

The best place to start, I thought, would be the most popular supermarkets, but they failed to sparkle at all. I had hoped at least one of them would have had the imagination to do a bit of a promo, since they’re flogging Will and Kate themed crisps, barbeques and nasal tweezers (well, the last one needs checking). Yet there was barely a drop of English fizz to be found.

Tesco, Asda, Sainsbury’s, Morrisons and the Co-op had nothing English at all; only Waitrose were making an effort with a commendable four on offer. Other than that we would have to nip down to Fortnum’s to toast the royal couple in a manner befitting a loyal subject of the realm, and I’m a bit too scruffy for that establishment.

Then things took a turn for the worse! As I prepared to put my findings to the blog, I learnt that the couple themselves would be drinking something French on the day! (It’s apparently a secret, but a source close to the bidding process has informed me it is going to be Pol Roger.) Sacré bleu! Is there no loyalty? Were those gathered to celebrate the union of Nicolas Sarkozy and Carla Bruni at the Élysée Palace in 2008 drinking Nyetimber, the jewel of the South Downs? No, strangely enough, it was Champagne. On the basis of rumours about the French first couple’s faltering relationship, is it wise for our royal pair to be toasting their own wedlock with a potion associated with marital disharmony? No! I urge them to reconsider for the good of their relationship, their patriotism and our country’s honour! There’s a Waitrose just off Belgrave Square, I’m sure they can get one of the guards to nip out and buy a few bottles in the nick of time.

And so should you. Any of these will do:

Waitrose: Chapel Down - £16.99 / Nyetimber - £23.99 / Ridgeview - £21.99 / Sandyford - £15.99

I’ll be doing the same and will report for Slurp, Treasure, Avoid shortly!

More info:

The inventor of sparkling wine(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christopher_Merret).
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dom_P%C3%A9rignon_(wine) )

Bollinger bidding for Royal Wedding Champagne
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFKIXNXIj9k

They apparently pulled out of the tender. (Maybe they didn’t do sale or return.)

More on English Sparkling Wine vs Top Champagnes 

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/7094055/English-sparkling-wine-beats-French-champagne-to-top-title.html

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/food/article-1246769/Sparkling-performance-British-fizzy-wine-beats-worlds-champagne-makers-named-best-bubbly-planet.html

http://www.thewinedoctor.com/tastingsformal/englishsparklingwine.shtml

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/foodanddrink/wine/7325638/English-sparkling-wine-A-local-to-rival-Champagnes-best-Bet-your-bottom-dollar.html

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/foodanddrink/wine/7864267/English-wine-beats-champagne-in-IWC-trophy.html

14 April - Recipe for Entertainment #8 – Goat’s Cheese Challenge

In a bid to convert our children to the delights of goat’s cheese on a picnic this weekend, I prepared a little challenge for them. I knew it would be a hard sell, but was sure that one of the three cheeses I’d selected would hit the mark as each was aged for a different length of time before release, therefore giving them different strengths of flavour.

Have a go yourself, and don’t worry about it being a child’s game – I entertained a room full of solicitors with this one in March. (Their legal clout precludes me from saying whether it was they or the children who performed better!)

You’ll need:

• 125g of cheap fresh goats cheese (the moist rind-less type)
• 125g of mid-quality goats cheese with rind (the type that comes in a log, wrapped)
• 125g of Crottins de Chavignol (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crottin_de_Chavignol) or any high quality aged goat’s cheese. You may need to visit a deli counter for this one.

Method
Label the cheeses 1 to 3 in any order you wish (but remember which is which!). Ask your guests to take a little of each cheese and match them to one of your descriptions (below). As with my other challenges, feel free to tweak the descriptions to suit your cheeses – there are no absolutes here, it’s your taste – though be as objective as you can!

My number 1 was the fresh goat cheese. Answer = B
My number 2 was the Crottin de Chavignol. Answer = C
My number 3 was mid-quality goat cheese with rind. Answer = A

A
Nose     – MEDIUM INTENSITY, FRESH MUSHROOM
Palate   – RICH, CLOYING, MEDIUM STRENGTH
               TANGY, MUSHROOM SAUCE, ALMOND

B
Nose     – LOW INTENSITY, CREAM
Palate   – SMOOTH, LIGHT STRENGH
               NATURAL YOGHURT, FAINT NUT

C
Nose     – HIGH INTENSITY, WILD MUSHROOM
Palate   – RICH, CRUMBLY, HIGH STRENGTH
               EARTHY, DRIED HAY, DRIED WALNUT

(It didn’t work, they hated all of them, but we had some fun!)

14 April - Slurp, Treasure, Avoid! - Wines to match your Goat's Cheese Challenge

“What better than a crisp fresh white to match with cheese?” probably isn’t what you might at first think when trying to pair a wine with your challenge. However, one of the best matches with Crottins de Chavignol is the crisp white sauvignon, Sancerre. (Chavignol is a town within the Sancerre district, and in France, as elsewhere, local food often matches local wines.) Instead of going for the obvious though, for Slurp, Treasure, Avoid, I picked up a few offers for other styles that I’ve suggested as matches for goat’s cheese on the app.

2010 Rabbit Row Sauvignon, Marlborough, New Zealand. (Waitrose)
Slurp: Innocuous and harmless, but better experiences to be had elsewhere.
Only acceptable at the discounted £5.50, but poor value at the original £8.50.
To experience: Trip in a rabbit hole and land face first on a grassy knoll next to a gooseberry bush.

2010 Vavasour Sauvignon Blanc, Marlborough, New Zealand. (Majestic)
Treasure: Bold, fresh and jammed with exotic white fruit. A serious alternative to Sancerre.
Great value at the reduced £6.99 (when buying two) and worth every penny of the original £9.99.
To experience: Delve into your rucksack and discover you’ve crushed the ripe melon, grapefruit and quince you’d brought for your picnic

2009 Beaujolais-Villages, Louis Jadot. (Tesco)
Slurp: Fair, but a bit thin from a big name producer. (Comes into its own with the cheese however.)
Not too exciting for the discounted £7.50 and a bit rich at the original £9.99.
To experience: Throw the rucksack down and fall asleep only to awake and discover someone’s stuffed crushed elderberries and cranberry into your nostrils.

2003 Bourgueil, Pierre Jacques Druet. (Majestic)
Slurp: Mature, dry and savoury with an earthy edge.
Good value £8.99, down from £9.99.
To experience: On your way home pass through a warm cherry orchard and sniff the fallen fruit nestling amongst wild mushrooms and herbs.

28 March - Recipe for Entertainment #7 - The Stilton Stand Off

I spent the weekend in the garden building a treehouse, so this one’s less a recipe, more a bit of fun with three different qualities of Stilton to serve after a meal, as we did on Sunday.

Buy: 150g of pre-packed ‘value’ level Stilton, 150g of good pre-packed Stilton from a named dairy, and 150g Stilton fresh cut from the round (you may may need a deli for this one). Make sure all are cut to about the same dimensions. Serve them and ask if people can place them in quality order. 

To add a twist to the challenge give your guests a description to match with each Stilton - see mine below. Taste them yourself and alter as necessary. No right or wrongs here, just a bit of fun. Label the cheeses 1 to 3 and see if guests can link each to one of your descriptions A, B or C.

My number 1 was the good shrink wrapped piece (middle quality). Answer = C
My number 2 was the cheapest piece (lower quality). Answer = A
My number 3 was a Colston Bassett (top quality). Answer = B

A
Nose   - LOW INTENSITY AROMA, CREAM, LIGHT AMMONIA
Palate - CRUMBLY, WATERY, SHARP
            CREAMY, A LITTLE MUSK

B
Nose   - HIGH INTENSITY, WILD MUSHROOM 
Palate - CREAMY, SMOOTH
            PECAN, GAME, TRUFFLE

C
Nose   - MEDIUM INTENSITY, FRESH MUSHROOM
Palate - MEDIUM CREAMINESS, SOFT
            LIGHT GAME, GENTLE MUSK

28 March - Slurp, Treasure, Avoid! - Wines to match your 'Stilton Stand Off'

At the food and wine matching tastings I run, Port is almost invariably people’s favourite for Stilton*. Whilst it’s a great combination, if you don’t fancy Port, why not try some of the drier examples of the region’s output. You could have any of the following (on offer at Majestic - all 20% off) with a main course and your Stilton challenge too (leave pud. ‘till after).

2006 Cedro do Noval. Vinho Regional Duriense.
Slurp: Burly but supple with a smoky streak from a Port superstar.
A big hitting country wine from the Douro worth the £13.49 charged. 
To experience: Sit a mile upwind from a fire at a blueberry farm. 

2009 Altano Duoro. Symington Family Estates
Slurp: Bold, fruit packed and herby. Aromatically diverse.
Still not a cheapie (few are from this great region), but real value at £8.49.
To experience: Allow the flames to die down a little yet also catch an adjacent thyme plantation.

2008 Duoro. Churchill Estates
Treasure: Sturdy, tannic and smoky with an elegant mosaic of rich fruit aromas.
The closest to a great Port (but dry) of the three. £9.49
To experience: Wait until the nearby cherry orchard, strawberry field and a roadside spice stall have gone up too.

*Lots of other matches on the App.

14 March - Recipe for Entertainment #6 – What’s the beef?

As a starter for my mother-in-law’s birthday get-together last Friday I thought I’d examine whether there was any point in spending more money on beef if you’re going to make it into meatballs or hamburgers. I’ve long thought that unless you’re buying meat for the texture and want that knife-through-butter experience, then there’s not much in it in terms of flavour if it’s from a similar source and age. This one’s nice and simple: the less interference, the clearer the challenge.

Recipe for Entertainment #6 – What’s the beef?

Serves 6

• 300g braising steak
• 300g rump steak
• 300g fillet steak
• 2 eggs
• 20g breadcrumbs
• salt and pepper

Beat the eggs with a pinch of salt and ground pepper. Dice each meat and mince separately in a blender with 1/3 of the egg and breadcrumb. Form each mix into 12 small meatballs and cook on separate dishes at 190° for 10 minutes (longer if you like it more well-done). Alternatively form each mix into 6 mini burgers and pan fry if you prefer. (Remember to note which meat is on which tray so you know what’s what when they’re served!) Label them A,B,C or 1,2,3 so your guests get to taste them ‘blind’. Serve alone or with a chilli dipping sauce or mustard for when you’re done with the challenge element.

The fillet was four times the cost of the braising steak, with the rump somewhere in between – see if it’s worth giving your guests the best stuff!

14 March - Slurp, Treasure, Avoid! - Wines for 'What's the beef?'

I thought an Aussie Cabernet Sauvignon blend should do the trick, and that the two below would make an intriguing comparison. Both from Morrisons, they purported to be about the same value, but one of them had been discounted to half price! How would they fare in a head-to-head battle over the mother-in-law’s meatballs?

2008 Vasse Felix Cabernet Merlot. Margaret River, Western Australia.
Slurp: Warm, generously uncomplicated and overtly fruity.
Could get better value for £10.99, but not bad at all.
To experience: Barbeque some cherries, blackcurrants and herbs over smouldering oak chip.

2009 Hardy’s Crest Cabernet Shiraz Merlot. South Eastern Australia
Avoid: Hot, sugary and clumsy.
Not even worth the £4.99 (half price) charged. Not in the same league.
To experience: As the barbeque dies, sprinkle some Demerara across the grill, throw on a glass of cheap brandy and get as close to the flames as you dare.

8 March - Recipe for Entertainment #5 – The Stilton Mash

‘Should I get out and push, Dad?’
            This, said through my 10 year old daughter’s quivering lips, was a suggestion whose thoughtfulness was only matched by its futility as our spinning wheels ground ever deeper into the Nottinghamshire clay. Salvation in the form of asphalt lay only metres from the car, but the gateway I had chosen to reverse into had been a trap, a final twist to cap a day of frustration.     

As I sat next to her, trying not to use the sort of words that I felt would most fittingly describe the architects of our predicament, I laid the blame squarely at the feet of the cheese makers of the Vale of Belvoir. Whilst it wasn’t they who had not checked the gateway for signs of the swamp beyond, had they any marketing or sales nouse whatsoever we wouldn’t be in this sorry fix.
We had spent the entire afternoon thus far trying unsuccessfully to find Stilton in Stilton country. In Cropwell Bishop, the town most famous for the blue-veined delicacy, we found the dairy responsible closed on weekends and holidays. So we tried the local stores, but, apart from: Kraft Singles, Baby Bel and a poor excuse for cheddar in the Co-op, (why on earth do they stock stuff from Canada purporting to be from the West Country, but no cheese from the adjoining dairy?) there was not a morsel to be found. Incredulous, we found a similar story in Long Clawson, one of the other five great Stilton names.
The smaller, but highly revered Colston Basset was to be next; the church spire of which glowed orange in the low winter sun setting across the lush pastures its cows call home. But, as this idyllic scene  was now framed by the rear view mirror of my slewing Land Rover, I feared this was as close as we’d get that day.

A beaming face then peered over the hedge. ‘That’s our soil for you - it loves people so much it doesn’t want to let them go!’ he laughed, somewhat inappropriately I felt. I thought better of sharing quite how little love I was capable of showing at that moment, and was soon glad I had: we were on his land, from which he then pulled us out. He also asked us to tea back at the farm where he explained that his herd contributed to the cheese which had evaded us all afternoon, some of which was in his pantry, for which he wouldn’t accept payment.

‘Does this mean we’ll be getting stuck more often?’ my daughter asked as he waved us off. 

The next day we were able to find two cheaper examples of Stilton from a big supermarket to have a little fun with over dinner, and see whether our quest for the good stuff had been worthwhile.

Recipe for Entertainment #5 – The Stilton Mash

Serves 6

• 50g cheapest Stilton you can find. Pre-packed value type
• 50g good shrink wrapped Stilton piece. Supermarket premium type 
• 50g named Stilton cut freshly from a ‘stilton’ (you’ll probably need a deli for this one)
• 1¼ kg peeled potatoes cut into 2 inch chunks
• ¼ pint double cream
• 100g unsalted butter
• Salt and black pepper to taste
• ground nutmeg
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 large onion cut into ¾-inch pieces
• 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

Boil the potatoes for 10mins or until you can pierce them with a fork, then drain. At the same time heat the olive oil over a medium heat in a frying pan and cook the onions, stirring until browned; then stir in the vinegar and leave to cool.

Warm the cream separately over a low heat. Mash the potatoes until smooth, then add the butter and cream and stir until blended. Season with salt, pepper and nutmeg. Spoon the mash into three equal dishes and top with caramelised onion. Then crumble a different Stilton onto each, indicating which is which on the dish (I cut a 1, 2 and 3 into the mash). Finish off under the grill and serve as an accompaniment to whatever your heart desires. Ask your guests if they can place the Stiltons in order of quality.

8 March - Slurp Treasure, Avoid – Wine to match with your Stilton Mash

We had the dishes at my sister-in-law’s house in Cropwell Bishop, paired with a delicious white Rioja and a South African Pinotage, both provided a great match but as they are only available from her shoe cupboard, there’s no point in saying more!

28 February - Recipe for Entertainment #4 - Cheddar Challenge

A long weekend celebrating a friend’s birthday in the West Country provided me with this week’s recipe and Slurp, Treasure Avoid!

I said I’d come up with an interactive dish for the Saturday evening, but had left it until we arrived that morning to be inspired. At first I found the remote and recently flood-ravaged town of Lostwithiel not an obvious place for gastronomic creativity, but then I spied a sign saying ‘great Cheddar only comes from Cheddar’. I thought I’d see if indeed it does, or at least if anyone would notice the difference when pitched against some more basic and less regionally accurate examples.

The following is for three light pastry-encased cheddar soufflés (if anybody calls them quiches I’ll go all Ramsay on them!).

Serves 4

• 200g cheapest ‘cheddar’ you can find
• 200g Intermediate quality branded cheddar (Cathedral City is a good one – apparently the nation’s favourite cheese. I’ll track down whether this is a volume based thing or some indication of quality. It’s actually quite nice, but the former yardstick McDonald’s could be heralded as  the nation’s favourite restaurant.)
• 200g Aged Cheddar from truckle (cylinder). (You may need to make a trip to a local deli to get something good. Have a taste yourself. If it has bags of flavour compared to the others, go for it.)
• 9 eggs
• 1 red pepper
• 1 orange pepper
• 1 yellow pepper
• 2 bunches of spring onions
• 500g short crust pastry (either bought or home made. I cheated - Jus Roll does fine!)
• ¾ Pint of milk
• seasoning

Finely slice your peppers and spring onions and flash fry them with a little olive oil until nearly soft. Leave to cool.

Cut your pastry into three equal amounts, roll out and line three flan cases (approx 15cm diameter, 4cm deep - or equivalent). Blind bake your pastry (seehttp://bit.ly/giaUG1 for guidance if required) at 170° for approx. 30 minutes. Allow to cool.

Take three mixing bowls and break three eggs into each. Season with salt and a pinch of ground black pepper. Whisk in ¼ pint of milk to each. Add one third of the pepper/onion mixture to each. Grate the cheddars separately and add each to a mixture. Make a note of which is which - label them 1/2/3. Then pour the mixtures into separate flan dishes and mark these 1/2/3 too.

Bake at 200° for approx 25 minutes (keeping an eye on them to avoid burning), before grating the remainder of each cheddar on top of its corresponding dish. Finish off under the grill.

Serve your cheesy challenges hot. Cut into quarters and serve one of each onto plates in marked order (with salad on the side if you wish). ½ lb of the best Cheddar to the winner – ask guests to guess its age if you need a tie breaker.

28 February - Slurp, Treasure, Avoid! - Wine match with your Cheddar Challenge

What better than bubbles for a celebration? They also make an often-overlooked but delicious match with pastry-encased cheddar soufflés (and quiche too!). I picked these two up en route.

NV Janisson & Fils, Carte Blanche. Champagne (Co op)
Slurp: Honest, quaffable effervescence from a proper Champagne house*.
Good value on special offer at £12.00 - even OK at £19.00 otherwise.
To experience: Grab a bough of apple blossom and wave it about in your local bakers.

*Many special offer own-brand Champagnes’ names are dreamt up at supermarket head offices.

NV Lindauer, Special Reserve. New Zealand (Majestic)
Slurp: Easy going medal winner, soft and voluptuous for its price.
Great value special offer at £7.99 - down from £11.99.
To experience: Jump onto a duvet laden with ripe plums, red berries and fruitcake.

2 February - Recipes for entertainment #1 & 2 The Ham Challenge & Three Game Birds in a Bed

In a dalliance from the usual Slurp Treasure Avoid entry, I thought I’d try out a new section: Recipes for Entertainment – things for you to try at home to add an element of interactivity and fun to your dinners or parties. After all it’s what we’ve been doing at Taste of the Vine for nearly fifteen years – maybe it’s time we shared a little of the fun.

This weekend we had the Taste of the Vine Christmas party (we were all busy in December) and, as is customary, I like to add a bit of a challenge.

Entertaining Recipe #1 – The British Ham Challenge

See if your guests can tell the difference between three qualities of ham.

Serves 4

• One Ciabatta
• 250ml whipping cream
• Grain Dijon mustard
• 2 slices pre-packed, watery, cheap ham
• 2 slices good processed ham
• 2 slices organic, on the bone, outdoor reared ham

If you’re at the deli counter, ask them to use the slicer to cut the last one about as thick as the others.

Whip the cream and add two tablespoons of the mustard. Cut the ciabatta crossways into approx. half inch thick strips (you’ll need 12 strips). Cut the ham into strips to match – you’ll need a strip or two of each ham per person. Spread a thin layer of the mustard cream onto the ciabatta pieces and lay the ham.

Separate them into dishes marked A , B, C and allow guests see if they can tell which is which.

Entertainment Recipe #2 – Three Game Birds in a Bed

(I know, just ignore me and go with it!) Not a fan of turkey at Christmas – after all it only became the traditional Xmas dish in the 1920s to benefit the exponents of intensive farming – I thought I’d set a little challenge to see if guests could spot which game bird they were eating.

Serves 4

• Two partridge breasts
• Two pheasant breasts
• Two duck breasts
• 500g puff pastry
• 4 large mushrooms
• One egg and cream (a splash of) mixture

Slice each breast into two and flatten to ½ inch thick with the back of a broad knife. Flash fry each piece in a hot pan, just enough to seal the meat as it needs to remain pink. Then fry your mushroom until browned. Roll out your pastry to approx 1ft wide by 1ft long and cut into four, then each piece into two. Lay the three different breast pieces next to each other on a piece of pastry (making sure you line them up in the same order each time, and, crucially, remembering what that order is!) and brush the egg mixture around the edges of the pastry to provide the seal. Then place the mushroom on top, season to taste and overlay another piece of pastry and press the edges down with a fork to form a sealed parcel. (You’ll need to mark the top with an arrow or marker at one end or similar to indicate which way round it should sit on each plate so as to present the meats in the same order when served.) Brush the top with the egg mixture and bake for 25 minutes at 190° or until golden brown (I wonder if that’s how Jamie might put it?).

Prepare an answer sheet for each guest to fill in.

A recipe to enjoy with good friends, or to liven up any dinner party.  (And don’t forget a prize for the winning palate!)

24 January - Trawling the hills for offers

Lord Tennyson used to walk past my house on his way to the pub. There he drank only beer so I’d like to think he knew as little about wine as I do about his poetry. Today I sought to address this and walked past his old house on the southern slope of Blackdown in the Surrey Hills listening to The Lotus Eaters, a story of a group of mariners getting high on flowers, thus leaving reality and their worldly cares behind. This put me in the mood to detour for a voyage of my own to see what special offers the various supermarkets were offering the denizens of Haslemere to help them to do the same.

Tesco: An easily accessible shore which at first sight appears to offer plenty, much allegedly half price, which in my opinion would only be genuine value if it came with a butler to take home and serve the wine to you, wash up and entertain the kids in the morning so you can have a lie in. I was tempted to try eating their flowers instead. Sadly, Lotus was out of stock.

Waitrose: A normally bountiful haven, but today only if you’re in need of mulled wine for next Christmas - it’s still on offer, along with one or two others that make you think Waitrose are trying to emulate Tesco, only less brazenly: supposedly one third off in most cases.

Majestic: The boat has sailed with most of the January offers, but good Bordeaux ones if you’re prepared to spend a bit more.

Co op: Treasure Island. Some genuinely cheap wines: Champagne at £9.00, Prosecco at £4.00, Chilean red and white at £3.00, but, as I was walking and could only buy one, the most tempting was an Aussie Riesling:

2009 St Hallet Riesling. Barossa, Australia
Slurp: Toothsome, fragrant and inspiring
Fantastic value at £4.00. 
To experience: Wander through a lime grove slapping a poet over the head with honeysuckle.

15 January - Rolling, rolling, rolling

It takes a strong man with my level of vinous obsession to eschew wine for an entire month; but it takes one stronger to consider his position from the wagon (legs swinging over the side, exchanging pleasantries whilst thigh-to-thigh with other tee-totallers) and decide to fling himself off with no regrets or concern for loss of face. Thus it was this evening when I spied a pair of special offer wines close to my heart (having worked at the winery in the early ‘90s) whilst passing Majestic.

2008 White Classic. Houghton. Western Australia
Slurp: (And I did) Daring, lively and full of fun
Great value at £3.99. Special offer worth at least seven quid.
To experience: Jump from a vehicle leading you nowhere into a stall piled high with honeysuckle, sweet lime and nectarine.

2008 Cabernet Shiraz Merlot. Houghton. Western Australia
Avoid: Dismal, painful, close to self harm
Cheap, but with reason. Save yourself £4.99 and a bottleful of disappointment.
To experience: Miss the stall, hit the cobbles face first and examine the state of your teeth while plucking blueberries out of your hair.

Shame, wouldn’t have happened in my day! The experience prompted me to run after the wagon and climb back on, at least until this time next week.

8 January - Wine in a Dry State

At my tasting events I’m often asked whether one should spit or swallow – usually followed by a titter (wine is rife with double entendre: good body, long legs, firm grip, supple finish – which may be why I crave a cigarette after tasting). My answer is always to spit if the occasion is business and to swallow if for pleasure (and so it continues). If you taste more than four or five wines at a session you can’t do it objectively if imbibing, which is why my self imposed state of wine abstinence for January is no obstacle to Slurp, Treasure, Avoid. However, the desire to drink was greater after I had dropped in to Majestic to taste what they had on offer. 

2010 Adelaide Hills Sauvignon Blanc. Nepenthe. Australia
Slurp: Fruity and playful yet elegant
Good value at £6.99, worth the original £8.74
To experience: Ask Felicity Kendal to mix you a grapefruit and gooseberry smoothie

2010 Rayvela Chardonnay. Viu Manent. Chile
Slurp: Initially restrained, sensual, hiding inner depths
Great value at £5.99, down from £7.49
To experience: Core a pineapple, stuff with apple and nectarine. Share with Penelope Keith

2009 Woodbridge Merlot. Robert Mondavi. California
Slurp: Uncomplicated, easy and warm
Great value at £3.99. Not an offer but around £6.50 elsewhere
To experience: Spend an afternoon picking blueberries and herbs with Richard Briers

2001 Chateau La Griviere. Cru Bourgeois. Medoc, Bordeaux, France  
Treasure: Mature and well rounded with some depth
Excellent value at £7.99, down from £11.99, but you might easily pay £15 for such quality
To experience: Smoke a cigar with Paul Eddington over a bowl of cherries and plums

I never tire of The Good Life Christmas special.

21 December - Christmas food and wine matching

The inevitable question asked of wine geeks during the festive season – apart from ‘will you please shut up about wine, at least for the holiday’ (that could just be me) – is what wine to pair with your traditional Christmas lunch. This gets me pondering about what traditional means and why in the UK we eat so much of a meat that no one really likes and only pleases the descendants of Bernard Matthews.

So to broaden the scope I’ve listed alternative Christmas foods treasured by other countries that you might like to consider, and suggested commonly found wines to go with them. (below)
    However, remember foremost to have a wine you like with a food you like: which is why this year I’ve decided to ditch the turkey and take Christmas lunch back to its origins.

I’m going for roast camel in a myrrh jus and to accompany I’ve selected a cheeky Israeli Cabernet Sauvignon, though to preserve impartiality a red from The Palestinian Territories would prove a suitable match, if you can get hold of it.

See below for the list…

19 December - Ice cold in Haslemere

The mobile rang. It was my friend Julia.

            ‘Help, I’m stuck and I’m at Tesco.’

Ever since releasing the app I’ve had similar phone calls from others regarding food and wine matching. ‘What are you eating?’ I enquired. The response was hesitant.

            ‘Well, a packet of tea cakes.’

I was about to suggest sticking to tea when she explained she’d been snowed in at Tesco and it was automotive assistance she required, rather than help with wine.

This was a job for smug-landrover-man! The six inches of snow this morning had once again left Haslemere strewn with stranded, hitherto-superior, hybrid Toyota drivers, whom I could offer assistance to safe in the knowledge they’d be too proud to accept – a delicious irony.

I arrived and whilst at Tesco bought a couple of special offer wines to recommend with Christmas Turkey. I plumped for a New Zealand Pinot Noir (Tesco Finest Marlborough Pinot Noir. 2009. £8.00) and a Vermentino from Sicily (Tesco Finest Vermentino Sicilia. 2009. £6.99) – knowing both styles ought to prove a good match. I’ll not bother telling you anything more about them apart from that the ‘Finest’ indication on the label is ‘every little helps’, minus the first ‘e’ and the ‘s’. Whilst the pinot did have enough alcohol to melt the snow in front of Julia’s wheels, 75cl was insufficient to get the car much further and I had to give her a lift home. On the way I dropped into the Co-op; where I picked up a half price Côtes du Rhone for a fiver. I was surprised to see it was from the Perrin family, the producers of Château de Beaucastel, one of the best Châteauneuf-du-Papes.

l’Oustalet Reserve. Cotes du Rhone. 2009. Co-op.1/2 Price
Slurp: Smooth, but with pleasant grip. Good value at £4.99, down from a tenner.

To experience: Slip into a hot-tub in the snow, add blackberry cordial, ground pepper and cloves.

Not a great match with Turkey, so sneak a cold lamb cutlet under the table.

16 December - I get my kicks!

Two days of alcohol abuse (that’s the aforementioned Champagnes abusing me, the consumption was minimal), had left me with a desire for a couple of lagers and a curry, so I popped into the Co-op. They say you often find what you’ve been looking for when you stop looking, and so it was…

Charles de Cazanove.  Champagne NV. 1/2 Price
Treasure: Soft, fruity, yeasty. Cracking value at £14.99, maybe not quite value at the full £30.
To experience: Eat panettone nestled in a 15 tog eiderdown

Great with curry too!

14 December - I get no kicks...

The Slurp, Treasure, Avoid project – to seek out what wines offer true value in the heavily discounted sections of the UK supermarkets – is testing my detection abilities to the max.

I initially bought and tasted as much as I could from the special offers but, unearthing few surprises amongst the wines I suspected would offer poor value, decided to focus only on those I thought had potential. Sadly, I am still not finding enough to be positive about.

This isn’t me being a wine snob, as there’s plenty of good stuff selling for less on the main shelves. I now suspect (I have to say ‘suspect’ to cover myself legally – though I fear adding this qualification compromises that somewhat!) that the discounted wines may actually generate as much profit for the supermarkets as the full price wines. This suspicion was driven home to me this weekend.

Now that many supermarkets have their offers set until Christmas I thought I’d taste the ‘heavily discounted’ Champagnes each supermarket has stacked at the front of their stores. I thought I’d start with Tesco’s ‘better than half price’ André Carpentier Champagne, sold on their website at £23.74 per bottle if you buy a dozen, normally around £25.00 each in store. Currently reduced to £10.00 per bottle it seemed a bargain, but it was insipid, acidic and without any champagne character at all. Not really surprising for Champagne at £10.00, but daylight robbery for anyone being charged £23.74. I can’t imaging much is sold at full price.
It wasn’t much better at Sainsburys (their Etienne Dumont Champagne was only OK at the discounted £13, very poor if £26) or Waitrose (Champagne Bredon was similarly just drinkable at the discounted £14, but very poor value if £28).

The only recommendation I could offer had you bought a bottle of Tesco’s André Carpentier Champagne would be to save it should your Christmas tree catch fire and then use it to put out the blaze in the manner of a Formula One driver, thus preserving the contents of your fire extinguisher as a more promising aperitif before Christmas dinner.

So, I have decided that the review will have to broaden its scope to the main shelves and I’ll dig out some festive wines later this week.

16 November - Running Waitrose's red light district

I couldn’t avoid them, lined up as they were. Big, showy and vibrantly clad, all begged for my attention. They promised they’d be cheap, assuring me that they were usually worth much more. I could have been drawn in, but I wasn’t fooled; they were just after my cash, and were so full of alcohol they’d be too much for me to handle.

Then I bumped into an old friend; shy and delicate, not encountered in years, the slender neck and green pastel shades offset a tiny gold medal. This one had understated class and didn’t need to be discounted at all.

Fief Guerin Single Vineyard Muscadet Sur Lie 2009 
Slurp: Cracking value at an undiscounted £6.99, worth £9.
To experience: Pack your pockets with white currants and roll in a spring meadow.

I walked on by: Turning Leaf Chardonnay / Fish Hoek Sauvignon / Lindemans Bin 50 Shiraz / Lindemans Bin 65 Chardonnay / Canaletto Pinto Grigio

I’m sure they’re nice and clean and won’t do you any harm, but looked as if they lacked any interest or passion.

10 November - On the rack at M&S

As I made a beeline for the special offer claret at M&S I thought I might be closer to experiencing S&M when I opened the bottle: good Bordeaux for under seven quid? Not since the eighties!

Château Gillet 2009. £6.25. Bordeaux. France
Slurp: Almost illicitly sensual. Great value. They’ll think you’ve spent a tenner at least.
To experience: Nibble spiced berries from a wooden spoon. You’ll need a blindfold.

4 November - Caught in the act at Co-op

I felt it was unfair of her to ask me to leave the store. Admittedly, I have recently developed a fixation, but they were tantalisingly on display and promised to be a pair to get excited about if I could only get my hands on them. I suppose it was a step too far to pull out my camera and start taking photos, but I tried to do it discreetly whilst she wasn’t looking. What I had failed to notice, however, was the security monitor behind her counter, which is why I failed to get my hands on them at all and had to get someone else to grab them later.

They did, I’m delighted to report, live up to expectation once unleashed. (I could go on, but it only gets worse…)

1 - Sauvignon Semillon – Smokebush Hill. Margaret River, Australia. 2009
Slurp: Elegant but giving. Fair value at £5.99, a little too much to pay if £8.99
To experience: Blend one part Kylie with a bowl of limes

2 - Shiraz – Smokebush Hill. Margaret River, Australia. 2009
Slurp: Bold and smoky. Good value at £5.99, just about on the money at £8.99
To experience: Smother fire damaged jam on your partner

26 October - To review!

Morning and the light of day only sheds more light on the enormity of the task facing me. Either I have to accept that the slew of bland over-priced special offer wines are the norm and I’m just a wine ponce, or there really is a conspiracy amongst mainstream wine retailers to promote the highest volume, lowest common denominators at an ‘alleged’ discount.

I started with Waitrose because I felt that this would be happier hunting ground, but I’m quickly disappointed. I feel that only one of the special offers comes anywhere close to being worth the original price claimed, and that most should probably be discounted a further 20% below their ‘special offer’ price before approaching any real value for money. There are plenty of other non-promoted wines elsewhere on their shelves offering better value. It seems to me that it’s these ‘special offers’ that are the ones likely to give the store their best profit margins.

So how do I go about reviewing these special offer wines? It’s not very edifying having to listen to some wine anorak bang on about how he doesn’t like something, so in future I’m going to simply list what I’d avoid on the shelves (and not bother wasting your time with), what I’d slurp (of the special offers) and what I’d treasure (something of better value from the main selection, that would probably result in less profit for the retailer).

So from the current Waitrose offers I’ve so far reviewed:

Whites:
Orca Bay Sauvignon - £5.99, down from £7.99 
Avoid. Is Orca Bay an ingredient? Sharper and less pleasant than drinking seawater

La Baume Grande Olivette. Chardonnay Viognier £5.99, down from £7.99
Slurp. On the money at £5.99. Pleasant but not all that ‘Grande’

Yellow Tail - Pinot Grigio. £4.83 down from £6.49
Avoid. Sharp. Take another two quid off and we’re nearly there
Kangaroo on the label – bad form to show your source. More pee than not!

Nederburg Chardonnay Viognier £4.39
Slurp. Not bad at the discounted price, almost worth the original £5.49

Côtes du Rhône Parallèle 45. Jaboulet. £7.49 down from £9.99
Slurp. The bottle I finished after the tasting. Good and on the money at £7.49, better value if cheaper, but overpriced at £10. Paying over the odds for a big name producer’s volume line.

Reds
La Baume Syrah Cabernet Sauvignon £5.99 down from £8
Avoid. Pleasant and honest country red, but at a possibly less than honest £8 originally. Really? Did they sell much of it at the higher price, I wonder?

Yellow Tail Cabernet Sauvignon
Slurp. On the money at £4.83
Says approachable on the label, which is reassuring, and they’re right, it’s very drinkable.

25 October - To review or not to review..?

It’s midnight and my investigation is complete, but my findings disturb me. I sit, head in hands, admittedly a little worse for wear, only partly due to the rather nice bottle of special offer white Rhone from Jaboulet which has provided succour during what proved to be a gruelling ordeal. Am I to encounter what seems to me a flagrant abuse of shoppers’ trust each time I conduct a wine review? Can I bear the heartache and endure such apparent wrongdoing?

Having once fancied tackling corrupt dictatorships, I had considered getting a job with Amnesty International, but doubted I could tolerate being exposed to the misery of those wronged. Here I was again, but this time it seemed the victims were closer to home – my own countrymen. Was I up to the task of lifting the lid on the whole rotten barrel of apples, or vat of grapes, or any other tortured analogy I could think of? Or was I just being a wine snob, the like of whom I profess to detest, just another babbling fool too caught up in the esoteric to realise that it’s only a drink?

To review or not to review…

25 October - Trust me, I'm a wine expert

A shopper, fresh herbs draped neatly across the focaccia in her basket, quizzes a deli assistant about the provenance of some fresh oysters. Another tests the ripeness of an unpasteurised brie before heading off in search of quince jelly while their labradors sit outside, patiently waiting for their Barbour-clad owners to return.

It was like any other day in the Haslemere Waitrose, and I had been in the wine section for only a few moments when I heard a clarion call too distressing to ignore. ‘I never know which to choose!’ A young lady at the wine special offer shelf, her infirm mother at her side, was in a quandary; she wanted a rosé, but the last had been ‘too sugary and alcoholic’ for her. Mentally pulling on my underpants over my trousers, I leapt to her aid.

‘Maybe try one of these instead.’ I guided her to a Tavel rosé, away from the nuclear-salmon coloured Aussie she’d been eyeing. Crisis averted, I came back to the special offer rack that had drawn her in. As much a crime scene as a vinous minefield, this demanded scrutiny. Ushering others away, I pulled out my camera to preserve the display for reference and then began gathering evidence. The zeal with which I applied myself attracted attention from the wine aisle manager, but as I piled bottles into my basket, he relaxed and let me get on, even offering to help. This was gall - a ‘perp’ seemingly convinced of his innocence. Now back at home I scan the labels in readiness for tasting, but first a window needs fixing, diverting me briefly from my investigation. To be continued…

24 October – Slurp, treasure, avoid?

There’s now more to report on, so the blog’s going live again, as is Twitter, Facebook and anywhere else I can mention the fact that the Wine Navigator App® is about to be released, as is WineTrumps®, a new card game.
If it all seems a cynically tactical and commercial approach to the whole social networking genre I make no apology. If Tesco can tweet, then so can I. (I haven’t looked at their feeds. I wonder what they are about: ‘@tesco: making tea now, just been to the loo, waiting for “Strictly” to come on, then me and Sainsbury’s are going down the estate to force the independent wine merchant out of business” - and leave him destitute, smashing his unsold bottles of fine Burgundy in the street like a prohibition officer from twenties America! The horror! Which brings me neatly to an idea I’ve had for a wine review.

The supermarkets sell over 80% of the wine consumed across the country. Over 75% of that is special offer wine. Over 60% is cynically produced for the special offer only and has no real value above the price it is being sold for. Over 73% of wine writers never stoop to pen a review of these wines, leaving the public at the mercy of the supermarkets. (And over 27% of my facts are supposition and would not hold up in court!) Nevertheless, I think it’s time for Slurp, Treasure, Avoid, a wry look at special offer wines to see if there are any real bargains to be had out there. So, the Gimblett palate’s off to Waitrose tomorrow – a soft entry maybe, but no stone will be left unturned, no treasure unearthed, no con unexposed and no liver unsaturated in my quest to come to the public’s aid in their olfactory hour of need.

Never, will so much have been drunk, by so few, for so many.

23 October - Back to the surface.

Insomnia, vitamin D deficiency and irritable dad syndrome are just some of the side effects of spending time in a cramped space knowing that it will be months before you’re released.
Now maybe you imagine I’m going to make some inappropriate comment likening my last few months writing a book in our box room to the ordeal faced by the Chilean miners trapped a mile underground, but no - that would be crass.
The lucky buggers didn’t have to face grinding self doubt and the knowledge that words were being added to their manuscript at a pace that makes tectonic plate movent seem dizzying.

The good news is, the book’s nearly there, but other things are happening now which warrant my attention…

20 July - Going underground...

The first episode of Wine Adventurer TV is edited and ready, but instead of going live on the site and YouTube, I’ve been encouraged to submit it as a pilot programme for TV. A new App for iphone is ready for launch in the autumn, and the other project, about which I must remain tight lipped (according to my business advisor), will only come to fruition in the new year too.

So in the meantime…
‘This morning I woke, showered then wrote. Breakfasted (banana, satsuma and a cup of tea). Wrote. Another cup of tea. Waved to the postman. Lunch (cheese sandwich, pickle).’

‘This afternoon Wrote. Went to the loo (not for the first time, but wanted to save noting it, to add variety here). Short walk. Wrote. Supper. Bed.’

Not the sort of thing I fel a good blog should be made of, so whilst I finish the next book (a wine based historical thriller), things will be a little quieter on this page until later in the year.