Hurrah of the week for this Thirsty Dragon: I came runner-up, along with Mike of Wine Philosophy, at the Young Wine Writer Award 2013, sponsored by Pavilion Books and in association with the Circle of Wine Writers and Wine Australia.
Congrats to Mike, and of course the winner Hugh, who won a two-week wine tasting trip “of a lifetime” to Australia with his piece on busking to save up for a very expensive bottle of wine.
You can read Mike’s piece here and Hugh’s piece here. And, should you want to read mine, I’ve supressed the urge to edit it further and pasted it below. Happy wine week, all! Continue reading Young Wine Writer Award 2013 »
Wish this was my mantlepiece at home.
Wine education is a lot like high school education. The only way to teach complicated things is to re-express them as simple things which are, you later find out, actually wrong. Quite a bit wrong.
But it’s still worth wrapping your head around these untruths, just so that the slightly-more-true untruths that you learn the next year will make bit more sense. (At least, that’s what my friends who made it through to A-level sciences tell me.)
So, at wine school, you learn the untruth that Chablis is unoaked Chardonnay. The truth: “Many Grand Cru and Premier Cru [Chablis] wines receive some maturation in oak barrels, but typically the time in barrel and the proportion of new barrels is much smaller than for white wines of Côte de Beaune.” (Source: Wikipedia, citing Jancis Robinson.)
You learn that Rioja’s vanilla notes come courtesy of American oak. The truth: “In recent times, more bodegas have begun using French oak and many will age wines in both American and French oak for blending purposes.” (Source: Wikipedia, citing Jancis Robinson. Again.)
And recently, I had the chance to overturn another untruth: that the Champagne region makes their high-acidity cool-climate grapes into sparkling wines because they taste rather awful as still wines.
Truth: after tasting the various base wines that go into making the Moët & Chandon Rosé Impérial NV, I had to concede that they were actually rather scrumptious. The acidity was high, for sure, but there was ample fruit in the young base wines, and gentle complexity in the older vin de réserve.
Three of the several base wines and the final (still) assemblage blend
Unfortunately, due to a French air strike — aside: I thought someone was bombing France when I heard this, until it turned out to be a typically French case of la grève – the white base wines didn’t make it to London for the tasting, but the pinot meunier (which makes up around 10% of the final blend as a red wine) and pinot noir (again making up 10% of the final blend as a red wine) were definitely pleasing and rather intriguing.
The other untruth combatted by Benoît Gouez, Chef de Cave at Moët since 2005, was the relative lack of regard we (or I?) generally have for non-vintage Champagne. We’re told: they blend over the years to ensure ‘consistency’ — a word we associate with mass production, conveyor belts and the decidely non-artisan.
Yet, come to think of it, a mark of a great restaurant is the ability to perform consistency at the very peak of culinary effort. Perhaps we should extend the same acknowledgement to NV Champagne. The ability to produce a consistent blend, three times a year (at Moët), through the up-and-down years of frankly nail-biting weather in northern France, is no mean feat.
Hats off to them, then.
We also had the chance to taste the Grand Vintage Rosé 2004 and the non-available (I think) Moët Grand Vintage Collection Rosé 1990 in magnum.
Which backed up one of the few truths we did learn in wine school. That vintage champagne, rosé or not, is really rather special.
It probably says something about my over-developped cynicism gland that, having been invited to one of the Innocent Inspires talks — runby those funky smoothie-sloshing folks at Innocent Drinks — on the subject of ‘Good Taste’, I expected to have a good time, be fed, but I didn’t really expected to be inspired.
As much as I admire chefs (Florence Knight and Ollie Dabbous, though sadly the latter did not feed us), supper clubs (the irreverant MsMarmiteLover), jellymongering (Sam Bompas of Bompas & Parr) and whatever ‘food design’ is (half-French half-American Emilie Baltz, who fed us ripe figs and made us sniff vanilla with ear plugs in), none of these are key inspirations in my life.
And yet. Bit by bit, the speakers opened up to the crowd and, lo and behold, inspiration reaches its wafting tendrils into the night. Here’s some nuggets from the evening:
1. Have Fun
It was highly obviously listening to MsMarmiteLover that she has bags and bags of fun. Oodles of fun. Whether foraging (“I’ve actually got food out of bins” – this story wasn’t, I think, related to her supperclubs), dissing Italy (“A sea of good taste beige”) or increasing her guests’ waistlines (“I’m a feeder”), she’s having a good time. And doing things a bit differently while she’s at it. Which makes things even more fun.
2. Go Ahead and Bite Off More Than You Can Chew
Bompas & Parr (jellymongers extraordinaire) wouldn’t be where they are today without buckets of ingenuity, a ridiculously zany sense of fun, and the audacity to wing it whenever the situation calls for it. From saying yes to catering a twelve-person Victorian breakfast (with no catering experience), offering to make ‘anything’-shaped jellies (without knowing anything really about jelly) and almost accidentally selling 2000 tickets to a jelly exhibition, these boys have gotten themselves into situations that would shoot a normal person’s stress levels sky-high and gotten out the other end covered in praise and glory (and jelly).
As that sports brand says: Just Do It.
3. Believe in Yourself, and Others Will Too. (And, When Called For, Tell Very Big White Lies.)
Ollie Dabbous, as he tells it, had no backers, no restaurant site, and nothing to show for his 10 year ‘working like a dog’ climbing the cheffing ladder. Humble wasn’t working, his business plan wasn’t getting him anywhere. Then one day, he finds a great restaurant site. He puts in an offer, without a single backer (Lie No. 1). He does the rounds of the most slightly-interested potential backers, claiming to have most of the money in the bank, he just needs their input too (Lie No. 2). A few days to go, he raises over half a million quid, and gets his site. The rest is history (with a very long waiting list).
He wasn’t afraid to fail. “If you look at what your competitors are doing, you’ll only ever be a little bit better.” Get outside that box and think.
As Thomas Edison said: “Genius is one percent inspiration, ninety-nine percent perspiration.” But we all still need that one percent in our lives.
So what are you waiting for?
It took me a long time to put two and two together and realise that the restaurant ‘Barbooloo‘ that everyone kept going on about and Daniel Boulud could possibly be linked. I’d read his short book Letters to a Young Chef while at cook school and was suitably in awe of this veteran Frenchman-made-good-in-NYC.
Bar Boulud, the London outpost of his NYC bistro of the same name, is famous in foodie circles for one thing: the BB burger. Here’s how the website describes it:
beef patty, foie gras
red wine braised short ribs
truffle, frisée, horseradish mayonnaise
confit tomato, black onion seed bun
‘Nuff said, really.
Continue reading TigerBites: Bar Boulud, Knightsbridge »
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. In the case of some food blogs, this equation is a bit of a moot point, when the pictures are so blurry / orange / flash-exposed that you feel sorry for the chef, and the words are a listing of What-I-Ate peppered with adjectives in the vein of ‘delicious’, ‘tasty’, ‘yum’ and ‘nom-ilicious’.
Previously tiny sushi bar Sushi of Shiori has re-opened in a new incarnation, The Shiori, with at least double the seats and a rather elegant minimalist interior. The menu has been completely reworked, with just two evening kaiseki menus (for £65 or £105), and a choice of three lunch menus. We opted for the Mini Kaiseki Set (£50) for lunch.
Suffice to say, it looked absolutely beautiful and tasted just as good.
Highlights: soy sauce made by the chef himself, winter soup with monkfish in a delicate broth, lightly grilled oyster with red miso dengaku, top-notch sushi including melt-in-the-mouth scallops and home-made smoked tea (hojicha) ice-cream.
Give yourself plenty of time to linger over the meal’s delights – we were there for 2.5 hours – and don’t eat too big a breakfast.
The prices are definitely in the special-occasion bracket (for us outside the gilded 1%), but nicely exceed expectations. Can’t wait to return.
45 Moscow Road
London W2 4AH
020 7221 9790
I do like a good offer. And what could be better than a wine club, voted National Wine Merchant of the Year (2012 & 2011), which I’ve been meaning to join for ages, offering half-price lifetime membership if you join before 31st December 2012?
I hastened over to www.thewinesociety.com to buy my ‘share’ in this co-operative company whose aim is ‘to buy wines direct from growers to ensure their authenticity and quality and to offer them to members at fair prices’.
I joined up, and waited a few days for my welcome pack and £20 to be credited to my shiny new account.
The small print that’s not (as far as I could see) on the site:
- You have to use up your £20 in the first three months. No biggie.
- A nice surprise: you also get free delivery orders of 6 bottles or more for the first six months. (Usual free delivery conditions are 12 or more bottles or an order of £75+.)
I had to pick up my pack from the Post Office, as it was slightly too large to fit through my under-sized mail slot.
Given the 6 bottles delivery offer, I decided to delve into the cheaper (okay, near cheapest) end of the Society’s offerings, on the look-out for some solid ‘every day’-type wines — you know, the type you pop open with a bowl of pasta, or for a large group of self-professed non-wine-lovers (“I really can’t tell the difference, apart from red and white”) when you know you’ll still have to drink the stuff you brought along.
Here’s what I ended up with:
- The Society’s White Burgundy (£7.50) — I picked four wines from the Society’s ‘own’ range, which are chosen to be a ‘pleasure to drink, classic in style, reliable and, above all, good value for money’
- The Society’s Rioja Crianza (£6.95)
- The Society’s Vin D’Alsace (£7.95)
- The Society’s Ruppertsberg (£6.25) — 55% silvaner and 45% riesling.
- Bordeaux Rouge, Special Wine Society Bottling, 2010 (£7.25) — a 50/50 merlot/cabernet sauvignon blend, from the blockbuster 2010 vintage.
- Etna Rosso Fondo Filara 2009 Nicosia (£10.95) — the only sub-£15 bottle from the Trophy and Gold-medal winning wines from the recent Decanter World Wine Awards. Skates on next year, people.
That’s Christmas sorted.
Any recommendations from other members and/or thoughts on the Society’s Exhibition range?
Queue at 7.30pm
The one good thing about London restaurateurs’ current obsession with not taking reservations is that 5.30pm is now a perfectly acceptable time to meet for dinner. Whether your boss will think so or not, as you scoot out the revolving door at 5pm, is another matter entirely.
Thankfully, both my dining companion and I are our own respective bosses (at least on a Friday), so we dutifully turfed up outside Bone Daddies at 5.45pm, and prayed for our early-bird keeness to be rewarded. As we left, almost two hours later, our prayers were answered with a queue that snaked round the inside and out the door.
So is it worth the queue?
Continue reading TigerBites: Bone Daddies Ramen Bar, Soho »
The invitation plopped through the letter box in a shiny silver envelope.
An Evening of Luxury Shopping and Fine Wine Tasting
By invitation only
Meet some of the world’s most prestigious wine and Champagne makers hosted by the exclusive brands of Bond Street
In partnership with Decanter magazine
I thanked my lucky stars I’d just taken out a subscription and promptly dispatched a message to my wine-loving friend, K.
The day of the event, the list of winery participants was perused (and googled). I hadn’t heard of the majority, but the names I did know (Gaja, Nyetimber, Louis Roederer) were definite cause for excitement.
Come the evening, the Christmas lights on Bond Street were all a-glitter, and we gaily traipsed into our first stop, Prada, who were the Gaja host for the evening. The doorman checked our invite, a ridiculously handsome man proffered chocolates on a tray and we made a beeline for the second stunning man who held a tray of wine glasses. So what were we drinking tonight?
“A chardonnay and, um, a merlot, I think,” he replied.
Continue reading DragonDrinks: Vendanges on Bond 2012 »