C is for Christmas (and more Champagne)
If you’ve ever wondered why people wish one another a “merry” Christmas or say this is the season to be jolly, you need look no further than the nearest empty bottle or wine glass. For the last few years in London, I have rarely been known to be sober between my birthday and Christmas. This year, I had hoped that things would be different and to a large extent, they have been.
Climate, the need to drive, the absence of the usual drinking partners and simply circumstances have cut deep into my drinking time but what I have given up in quantity I seem to have made up for in quality and variety. Having had a total of two beers and a vodka from Monday to Thursday, Christmas Eve dawned with the promise of a day of inebriation. And what a day it turned out to be.
For elevenses in the office, we started with a couple of bottles of Piper Heidseck Rose NV which were distinguished by their darker colour than you would expect in most Roses. Usually, this is a tell tale sign that a slug of Pinot has been added rather than a case of leaving the skins in. In this case (and if this was the case), the addition of whatever it was brought along a wealth of fruit flavours - predominantly raspberries - which would otherwise not have been there. Unexpected but not unwelcome.
We rounded off the traditional office drinks with a bottle of Laurent Perrier NV which was a little more biscuity and less floral than expected. The words “heat damage” spring to mind. Perhaps had something to do with the storage in the shop. Then it was off to a client’s Christmas party at a new boutique hotel in Chinatown (well, the fringes of Chinatown anyway).
I walked in an hour late and was handed flute of something - a sip and I take back all the recent good things I’ve said in a previous blog. It is the Moet, is it not? I said. It is, the waiter smiled. Take it away, I said. Certainly, sir - the waiter grimaced.
A trusty colleague came to my rescue with the first of many glasses of Chateau Palmer 1988. It was good but no cigar. The Palmer and a solitary double Corona (Dom Rep from Cuban seed) was my lunch although I managed a glass of Jean Leon of indeterminate vintage (but very good nonetheless) when the Palmer ran out. One for the road, so to speak.
Home and a snooze plus a snack later - I was off down the road armed with a bottle of Gallo Barelli Creek 1996 Cabernet Sauvignon for an all Californian tasting. I have always had my doubts about Gallo but to be fair this prejudice stems from my student days when all I could afford was their cheap and awful stuff. This was much better - blackcurrent, light oak, a touch of tar and tabacco but best of all, a hint of vanilla. Well worth rescuing the last couple of bottles from a bin end sale at Selfridges and at £9, only twice as expensive as the cheapest and most awful stuff Gallo could throw at you. We also had a Freemark Abbey 1997 Cabernet Sauvignon the same evening and this was a denser, more concentrated wine with a bit more sun, possibly better structure and a slightly longer finish which could do with a little more cellaring.
Nothing helps you sleep better than a glass of red wine (or eight) so I woke up refreshed on Christmas Day with nothing as much as a hint of a hangover. Three glasses from three different bottles of Laurent Perrier 1995 from the same case and shipment as my birthday bubbly (previously described and somewhat derided in an earlier blog) in the early afternoon - all were good if slightly less sweet than I know they can be but most refreshing. The same could not be said of the bottle of Hugel 2000 Alsace Riesling we opened towards the end of the party (for the road, you understand). Flat, sour and possessing few redeeming qualities - feed it to the Alsatians, I say.
Having promised to ferry my aged parents and relatives around yesterday evening, I was much more circumspect at Christmas dinner, limiting myself to two tiny tasting portions of dessert wine - an Australian Semillion and a ice Riesling from New Zealand. There was no way I was going to put myself through the possible trauma of being stopped at a road block and being breathalysed in front of my relatives. And failing.
Climate, the need to drive, the absence of the usual drinking partners and simply circumstances have cut deep into my drinking time but what I have given up in quantity I seem to have made up for in quality and variety. Having had a total of two beers and a vodka from Monday to Thursday, Christmas Eve dawned with the promise of a day of inebriation. And what a day it turned out to be.
For elevenses in the office, we started with a couple of bottles of Piper Heidseck Rose NV which were distinguished by their darker colour than you would expect in most Roses. Usually, this is a tell tale sign that a slug of Pinot has been added rather than a case of leaving the skins in. In this case (and if this was the case), the addition of whatever it was brought along a wealth of fruit flavours - predominantly raspberries - which would otherwise not have been there. Unexpected but not unwelcome.
We rounded off the traditional office drinks with a bottle of Laurent Perrier NV which was a little more biscuity and less floral than expected. The words “heat damage” spring to mind. Perhaps had something to do with the storage in the shop. Then it was off to a client’s Christmas party at a new boutique hotel in Chinatown (well, the fringes of Chinatown anyway).
I walked in an hour late and was handed flute of something - a sip and I take back all the recent good things I’ve said in a previous blog. It is the Moet, is it not? I said. It is, the waiter smiled. Take it away, I said. Certainly, sir - the waiter grimaced.
A trusty colleague came to my rescue with the first of many glasses of Chateau Palmer 1988. It was good but no cigar. The Palmer and a solitary double Corona (Dom Rep from Cuban seed) was my lunch although I managed a glass of Jean Leon of indeterminate vintage (but very good nonetheless) when the Palmer ran out. One for the road, so to speak.
Home and a snooze plus a snack later - I was off down the road armed with a bottle of Gallo Barelli Creek 1996 Cabernet Sauvignon for an all Californian tasting. I have always had my doubts about Gallo but to be fair this prejudice stems from my student days when all I could afford was their cheap and awful stuff. This was much better - blackcurrent, light oak, a touch of tar and tabacco but best of all, a hint of vanilla. Well worth rescuing the last couple of bottles from a bin end sale at Selfridges and at £9, only twice as expensive as the cheapest and most awful stuff Gallo could throw at you. We also had a Freemark Abbey 1997 Cabernet Sauvignon the same evening and this was a denser, more concentrated wine with a bit more sun, possibly better structure and a slightly longer finish which could do with a little more cellaring.
Nothing helps you sleep better than a glass of red wine (or eight) so I woke up refreshed on Christmas Day with nothing as much as a hint of a hangover. Three glasses from three different bottles of Laurent Perrier 1995 from the same case and shipment as my birthday bubbly (previously described and somewhat derided in an earlier blog) in the early afternoon - all were good if slightly less sweet than I know they can be but most refreshing. The same could not be said of the bottle of Hugel 2000 Alsace Riesling we opened towards the end of the party (for the road, you understand). Flat, sour and possessing few redeeming qualities - feed it to the Alsatians, I say.
Having promised to ferry my aged parents and relatives around yesterday evening, I was much more circumspect at Christmas dinner, limiting myself to two tiny tasting portions of dessert wine - an Australian Semillion and a ice Riesling from New Zealand. There was no way I was going to put myself through the possible trauma of being stopped at a road block and being breathalysed in front of my relatives. And failing.
posted by porcorosso at 10:17 PM
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