Whyne about wine

The best part about a wine tasting is by far the free stuff. And by that I mean the surprise gift from a grower who doesn't want to take that half full bottle home or more recently a copy of the new Ultimate Guide to Italian Wine translated into English for the very first time.

The launch of this fabulous guide was accompanied by what I can only describe as one of the best wine tastings I've been to in a long time. Not only did I get a chance to try a fabulous wine made up of 14 yes you read that right - 14 grapes (I reckon every grape on their farm), I also discovered Italian wines that if it wasn't a conference room in London I could quite easily have been on a beach in the sun, the wine simply transported me there. I also discovered a new favourite easy drinking from a wine estate called #Duepalme, a table at which together with other whyners enjoying the tasting, we polished off their bottles at the end of the evening. Not a drop went to waste.

Naturally no Italian wine tasting would be complete without proper food and that was plentiful in supply... crackers, crosontini, pizza and copious amounts of Parma ham were on offer and I got a taste of a great buffalo cheese flown in that morning - fresh from Italia.

Summer 2017 has ended after a lovely trip to the wine country in South Africa where I had the chance to see the Namaqualand flowers in bloom (although not as widespread as in non-drought years) and rediscovered the old South African staple, a firm favourite - Drostdy Hof. I visited the Oude Drostdy (which for a fun fact, was the former courthouse in Tulbagh) where we went downstairs into the old holding cells for the tasting - very unique and a bit of fun. I also discovered a new favourite red and rosé at Saronsberg. The best part, both estates are in/close to Tulbagh, a delightful little town whose claim to fame is to be the second oldest town in South Africa.My visit to South Africa ended at the oldest wine estate Groot Constantia, a super interesting and amazing wine list visit.

Finishing my holiday in the South African wine country led me sweetly into the first wine tasting of the Autumn organised by Slurp It was a special visit to New Zealand House in London for a whirl around the New Zealand wine regions. And what a whirl it was… The tasting took place on the 18th floor of the embassy. Yes – it’s true, that tiny island nation has a massive embassy!! Who knew? The views of London as the sun set from the terrace was worth the ticket alone and a great opportunity for those rare and unexpected wind swept – ruin your selfie shots.

It’s the first wine tasting I’ve been to that had both Gin and Beer on offer! Yup! Trust the Kiwis to mix things up to expand our taste buds. There was a cracking little rose and a delightful dessert wine called Tohu – which we managed to sneak in 2 rounds… a great way to end off the evening… yum yum… It was a great visit and canter around the islands.

Next stop, an italian tasting, chocolate festival and the big daddy of wine festivals, the Decanter Fine Wine Festival... ca(n)-not wait!

It was with great excitement that I attended Slurp, a wine tasting of a selection of South African wine at South Africa House officially known as the SA High Commission at Trafalgar Square in London last week.

I was promised 3 hours and 60 wines. An incredible personal challenge!

I calculated beforehand that I would need to conquer no less than 20 wines per hour in order to try them all and somehow stay standing. 

Never one to shy away from a good challenge I managed to arrive 30 minutes after the tasting had started figuring I could knock a few back and skip those brands I know well and am unlikely to either like or want to try.

So there I was in iconic surroundings, "menu" in hand to discover the wines were all numbered, so the “wine by numbers” game began. What better place to start than with sparkling number 1 and 2 - a white and rosé brut, also known as “champagne”. Just to be clear they aren’t mixed colours like softserve but 2 separate bottles in case you were wondering (and laughing). This was quickly   followed by the whites . Of course each table had the national delicacy biltong available but being 30 minutes behind meant the offerings had been ravaged at each table I visited by those who had gone before.

There was a fancy shmancy professional sommelier there but I only liked one of the wines she chose - just goes to show, we each have our favourites and very unique taste buds. 

Notching up the wines and comparing notes with other tasters on a similar challenge I even managed to have a had a go at not one but two dessert not desert wines available (numbers 59 and 60 on the wine by numbers list).

My winners for the night were, wine 18 (a white Chardonnay called Ataraxia Chardonnay from Hemel-en-Aarde region), wine 59 (a dessert wine from Klein Constantia called Vin de Constance) and a wine 31 (a pinotage called Spice Route from the Swartland).

So I hear you all mutter who cares what number won, did you or did you not make it through 60 wines and were you still standing!?

Dear readers the answer is this, I conquered 42 wines in three hours... but I did have 3 wines twice just because I could and yes! I was “still standing” (as Elton John would say)

As the days get longer (yes it has finally started to happen - the sky is not midnight black at 5pm anymore). I've just realised that this winter's big red wine drinking nights are numbered and it's time to start getting excited about refreshing white and pink wines, not to mention all the fun wine fairs that seem to pop up.

Yup! Time to glug down that oak tree with pepper corns and clear out the cupboard in anticipation of the pink and white stock pile and of course not to forget everyone's favourite: bubbles!

So this week I decided to make a proper effort to chip into my winter collection after all a wooden shelf can only cope with so much weight before putting the whole collection in jeopardy. So I started the cull with a smashing Malbec. A well chosen and much appreciated birthday present directly from the sunny hills of Argentina. The reddy pink label and warming taste has made the past few winter evenings a little warmer. After all, who needs central heating when you can wrap yourself in a red wine blanket.

So the end/beginning (depending of how you look at it) of the week has arrived and with it that age old English tradition of the Sunday lunch. You know the one, a delicious roast cooked to perfection combined with the crispy roast potatoes and perfectly cooked vegetables (I like carrots personally). And as I prepare to dive into just one such lunch I considered the age old conundrum what to drink?

Wine of course! But which colour to make one of my five a day? We've all heard the rule red wine with red meat, white wine with white meat but today I am shaking it up and am going to have a red wine with a roast chicken!

"Rebellion!" "Mon dieu!" I hear the cries of horror. But wait my friends this will not ruin my lunch provided the wine is "soft". Like a fluffy pillow. You know the kind that instead of being whacked with a log at the back of the head I'm going to have to hunt the smell in a pinot noir and the subtle flavour which I can never ever quite put my finger on will warm me up just a little and make my roast chicken lunch just a fraction tastier.

As the nights draw in and dawn needs more encouragement than usual making early rises a challenge I cast my mind back to September and the Mercado Chileno wine festival held on what was the “hottest September day on record”. It was a scorcher with the festival in a new location close to Brick Lane. I remember the saunter to get there with a fellow winer basking in the sun.

Thanks to the late summer sun, we decided early on that refreshing white wine was the way to go. It meant we could drink sparkling wine, chardonnay, sauvignon blancs amongst others. We even had a cracking Riesling (who would have guessed). Of course, being a Chilean wine festival meant we could not leave without having at least one pisco punch and a pisco straight up… a unique way and very tasty way to really get an evening started.

As the pisco broke the whites and sent us to the red wines of which we tried many some amazing, some mediocre but all interesting and fun. Now as the evening turns dark and cloudy and the temperatures are dropping driving us towards that long cold winter, I am savouring a Cabernet Sauvignon & Carmenere blend that I discovered at the festival courtesy of Casa Silva. Sipping this red reminds me what an amazing time was had on summer’s last gasp and makes me think that this may be the perfect start to my winter wine escapades.

And since I’m constantly being told how red wine and chocolate are supposed to be good for the heart I will be putting that theory to the test.

As I pondered what wineful delights to share with you after the big "should we stay or should we go", I turn my attention to a few headlines designed to strike fear into the heart of any whyner. You know them. They go along the lines of “when UK leaves the EU we will have to pay more for French wine”. Those headlines do make me laugh, after all, as we whyners know some of the best wine is *shock horror* not French. And for those who can’t live without the French juice, provided they’ll still have you, you could always nip across the Channel, stock up a car load of the stuff and pay for it Euro (which used to be a sure-fire way of getting loads of good wine cheaply). Of course, with the pound now playing “how low can you go” this masterplan does face a teeny challenge.

This week in anticipation of the warm weather (which will hopefully come and stay soon) and the long weekend, I decided it was time to indulge in the white and pink portions of my five a day. So I headed to the supermarkets (yes more than one and they are all equally challenging to navigate) when it struck me, besides the different and often intriguing shapes that wine bottles come in the labels plastered onto these bottles are equally as fascinating.

Of course, the label on a wine bottle is vitally important. Besides its tremendously high powered and pressurised marketing job i.e. to catch your eye it must of course also provide you with some useful information about what this one of your five a day contains. So let’s talk about the label.

Other than pimping the wine, the label’s most important job is to tell you what wine you are buying. So if there is no grape variety on the label describing what makes up the luscious contents of this bottle, run while you can. Somewhere (even on the cheapo house stuff) you should see the name of the grape variety i.e. Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, Pinot Noir, Shiraz etc.

The label (except for the house stuff) should give you other vital bits of information the most obvious being the name of the Estate the wine is from and often the country of origin and/or region. Although this can often be guessed. After all, if you can’t understand the label and it’s a Pinot Grigio it’s probably (but not always) going to be Italian but feel free to turn the bottle over and read the back label with the pretty story about the wine and what it should taste like according to some guru who spat it out – something to bear in mind. Finally, it should tell you the vintage (year) which is important if you know the difference between a good year and a bad one, but trust me you still get manky wines in a “good year”.  

While the information on the label useful for those who really understand the different grapes, regions and years I’m going to put it out there that that we all buy wine using the following tried and tested technique while trying really really hard not to look like a spaced out idiot, staring at all bottles in the isle. For the uninitiated buying wine this week went along the lines of:  

“I feel like a white today…” [stare at shelf] “yes white ….” [move along the line of bottles] [see the rosés] “hmmmm or should I rather get a rosé?” “nah I think I want ….” “Oooo look at the pretty bottle…” “Wow! Wicked label …” “pretty label = tasty contents” or even better “unusual name = great wine.”

And there we have it, with random thoughts firing through the brain 3 different bottle each with its own “pretty” labels are duly selected and paid for, with the guarantee that at least one will be a surprise to the palate and either have the honour of having its label photographed to remember for next time or placed on the “never ever again” pile.

So will I buy wine with pimped up labels in the future? Hell yeah! After all half the fun is working out if it’s hiding something delicious and there really is no other way (except maybe bottle shape) to choose when there’s so much wine and so little time.

I love spring. I love the blossoms, the longer evenings and the fact that at last I can get rid of my winter jackets and wear something lighter. This of course means only one thing and after a promising start I decided to celebrate the arrival of spring by opening my first white wine of the season. Once chilled, my joy and excitement of the new season came to an abrupt end with the arrival of what I can only describe as mid-winter Arctic blast. Good old mother nature provided the gift of mid-winter winds (the snap your brolly kind), rain and my personal favourite sleet and snow. Now let’s be clear snow is not exactly how I pictured kicking off my Spring celebrations, nor is it the weather I was expecting to be drinking my first bottle of white in for the season.

But it that is now over and Spring has finally sprung which of course means my Spring and all things summery celebration can recommence (although in fairness it never really stopped!).

So here is how my celebration has unfolded over the past few weeks. It all kicked off with a brilliant white called l’Oratory by Domaine Saint Gayan from France (obviously, with a name like that). I vaporised this bottle purely because it tasted so good and good wine does not last long in my house. Hot on its heels was a delightful bottle of Reserve Chenin Blanc from Kumala in South Africa. This wine was chosen for two reasons:

1. It was Freedom Day in South Africa in April (sort of the SA version of 4 July) so why not celebrate with a South African wine and of course it must be white to celebrate spring.

2. (slightly more importantly) Kumala have a lizard as their logo and lizards are cool! Seriously, go and look at a bottle and I defy you not to love it because of the label (and the fabulous contents).  

The most exciting part of the celebrations was on the weekend when Summer (yes you read that right!) made an attempt to peek out gifting us with temperatures of over 20ºC (yeah!). I was so excited that I decided that on its own called for Champagne. I scratched around and decided that the honour belonged to the bottle of Louis by Henry de Vaugency (which I visited with a black eye – a story for another day). This bottle is going down a treat. Of course, a weekend of Ssummer would not be complete without a birthday celebration and a couple of pinks putting in an appearance. Two that were lovingly consumed were Tavel with the third (not from Tavel) having pretty little pink flowers on the label appropriately called Fleur (Flower) – definitely a summer win(e)ner.

You’d have to be a little blind not to have noticed that wine bottles come in different shapes and sizes, even the mini ones intended for one (glass/person – you decide). Part of the fun of wine (besides vaporising the contents faster than steam in a bathroom) is deciding not only on the bottle that has the most entertaining shape (who doesn’t love a well-rounded bottle shape such as those offered by Champagne) but also trying to work out which bottle is least likely to become a stubborn, take up an entire shelf, teeter on the brink enemy of storage. This is especially true of whites and rose bottles that need to be put into the fridge at some point.

Now even though I love wine, drinking an entire bottle in an evening is not always possible. This means the bottle will need to be stored in anticipation of the next drinking event (usually in 24hrs). This results in the commencement of the fridge dance and a small victory whoop when the bottle goes into its allocated space in the door straight up first time. However, this generally does not happen.

You know what I mean. That moment when after a few you happily pop the bottle into its allocated space only to have the neck and cork stick out alongside the shelf at the top because the bottle is longer than its allocated space – the distance between the two door shelves. If you are graced with a large human sized fridge this may not be as big an issue as it is for us who are gifted with a microscopic fridge by our landlords in London.

My other personal favourite is the bottle that just blank point refuses to go into its allocated storage space. It is as if it grows an extension of legs and arms to expand its size so as to make its allocated space and the shelf in its entirety too narrow. Of course a good quality wine bottle will never do this when there is plenty of space in the door to be able to manage a 45º bottle suicide angle or more logical to place it sideways on a spare spot on a shelf. Hell no… this stubbornness only takes place when the fridge is packed to capacity generally following a weekly grocery shop, as a form of mocking and torture. The end result being an entire (oh that’s where the lettuce is) fridge reorganisation which, after a lot of muttering results in the bottle either taking up an entire length of a most treasured shelf or balancing at a 45º suicide angle in the door held up by a sturdy brick of cheddar cheese (classy).

Once the bottle has been secured the finely tuned art of gently closing the door is invoked so as not to encourage the bottle to jump out of position and smash on the floor which you know it is desperate to do; and believe me when they jump it is not pretty especially during the 7am rush. Of course if you can keep your bottle from jumping, there is a full day of hope and anticipation that when you jerk the door open in the evening that the cheese holds its position and the bottle decides to stay in its position – the moment a small victory dance is due before starting the whole process all over again. I have found Champagne and Gewürztraminer bottles in particular seem to like this game, but they are not the only ones (you know who you are!).

I’m you will agree there is nothing more satisfying than the pop of a cork coming out of a wine bottle. It’s the sign of the delight to come. But … we have all also had moments when removing the cork goes spectacularly wrong thanks to a corkscrew that doesn’t pull the cork out properly breaking it on its way out, or that drills into the cork at a 45º angle or more thereby ensuring you can’t reuse the cork (if you had needed to) or even better as happened with me recently leaving the cork behind altogether and gracing me with the gift of a clean removal of the corkscrew (the entire twirly) and a few tiny pieces of cork that flaked out as a giant F U. Forget 45º this corkscrew decided it would like to go waaay off centre down the side of the cork even though it started with the point bang in the middle of the cork. All this did was leave me feeling hugely frustrated and using rather expressive “garage language” and wishing I’d rather bought a bottle with a screw top instead of enjoying the calming and satisfying pop I know and love.

So I hear you wonder how did you get into the wine and more importantly was it corked?

My current rather delicious red wine (the name of which I apologise I have forgotten having had to discard the bottle) had a stubborn hanger inner cork which my corkscrew decided it did not like and would war against it. How exactly did it do this? Well the corkscrew refused to go in straight, would come out clean when I pushed the little arms down flaking only tiny bits of the cork in the process. Arghh… How to bring peace to the land? I had to go back to the way things were done in my early student days and I defy you my reader to state hand on heart you have never resorted to one of these guaranteed to work methods:

1. Push the cork into the bottle using back of a teaspoon, knife, fork or other implement (today someone told me they used a screwdriver), all of which requires strength and a lot bad language.  

2. Creative martial arts methods to skilfully break the neck of the bottle at a “special angle” on a pavement or edge of a kitchen counter which will keep the wine in the bottle giving you a clean break (yeah that method never worked for me either).

Now the mind is a funny thing, as I had forgotten why I own a corkscrew or two in the first place as after using the teaspoon, a lot of bad language and strength I didn’t know I had to push the cork into the bottle I was rewarded with a faceful of red wine which also sprayed all over my kitchen cupboards. Now I remember why that move was always done outdoors.

I had also forgotten that once the cork is in the bottle it bobs around the neck area and acts as a very effective stopper blocking the wine from coming out of the bottle when it is tipped over … So two plastic cutlery handles down the bottle later, I was finally able to get into the wine and immediately decanted it into another bottle – there’s no way my patience could handle doing that again.

This experience though reminded me of the fun we used to have in those early days at uni when no-one had a corkscrew and wine didn’t come with a screw cap. Invention and necessity being the name of the game. But as a slightly older and not always wiser person the experience also reminded me that that I really need to invest in a new corkscrew that isn’t wiggly with a mind of its own. After all a good quality corkscrew is worth its weight in gold.

Everyone loves a good moan after a crappy day at work and most people I know love to do that over a glass of decent wine or a beer. So I decided that I am going to blog about my adventures with wine, having a moan where it goes badly and celebrating where it goes well. All while sharing my enthusiasm for a good glass of wine.

I wish to caveat this blog right now. I am not a wine professional. I do not have a clue what a gooseberry smells like (and for that sake looks like), so please do not ask and if you expect that kind of detail about the wine I drink then this is not the blog for you. I do swirl and sniff but I do not spit :-0 (unless it is pretty grim and there have been a few of those). But mostly I want to share my passion for 3 of my 5 a day (red, white and rosé) and hopefully provide some entertainment for those of you who take the time to read my posts along the way.

After all, life is too short to drink bad wine.