So
we went away to Lombardy and the South of France, and, yes, it was as
nice as it sounds, and yes, it is hell to be back. And one reason why
it was indeed so very nice, was because holiday drinking rules
applied, and we all know what that means, the gallimaufry of
unfamiliar taste sensations plus overwhelming sentimental
light-headedness as the sun sets over the lake, conspiring to fuddle
the senses benignly and persistently, causing one to leap to certain
new and suddenly unshakeable conclusions, among them
-
The only wines worth drinking are Italian. This is on the basis of a
bottle of something called, seriously, Crapulone, a red from
Lombardy; a rosé called Roselario, also from Lombardy; and a
supermarket Chianti from the Como branch of Carrefour which cost only
€4 and was nonetheless approximately twice as good as a ￡4
bottle of British Chianti would have been. The first two were a bit
more upscale - that holiday effect - and, as PK would put it,
elegant,
supple
and full of finesse
in a way I just don't associate with other wines, wherever they're
from. I mean, they weren't especially long on narrative
but then narrative
is over-rated anyway, just another excuse for excessive buttonholing
and finger-wagging and gusts of alcohol and tannins, so, yes, Italy
brings delight, brings leggerezza
although, meanwhile
-
In the Carpentras region of Southern France, staying subsequently
with our grand friends who have a house over there, we knocked off
(one evening) a couple of bottles of red made by some of their
neighbours, and this stuff was spicy, black as ink, extremely tasty,
14.5%, and gave us immense hangovers the next morning. 'I haven't
felt like this since I was sixteen,' we all said, shielding our eyes
with our hands. A safer wine turned out to be a fantastic Côtes du
Rhône Villages, like the Chianti a mere €4, this time from the
local SuperU, but tasting, to my way of thinking, well up there with
￡15+
bottles such as chumps like us are forced to buy in this country
-
But either way, great joy of supermarket buying: in Italy, scores
(just enough, not too many) of very moderately-priced Italian wines
and
nothing but Italian wines;
in France, scores (just enough) of very moderately-priced French
wines and
nothing but French wines,
all lined up in uniform ranks like the Armée de Terre, the sheer
pleasure of having pointless excessive choice taken out of your
hands, leaving you free to gawp in a relaxed manner while swarthy men
push their trolleys past and women with violent rust-coloured hair
con the household cleaners
-
And yet, even with all that going on, what was the single most
memorable drink of the trip? I don't want to get too Bruce Chatwin
about it, but strictly speaking, it was a glass of cold fizzy Badoit
with a slice of lemon in it, which I drank after we'd been walking
around the Dentelles
de Montmirail (blazing
sunshine, honey aroma of flowering broom, shedload of vineyards
dazzling in their June foliage, not that I want to get all Chatwin,
obviously) before finding a tiny café in the shade. The Badoit was
about the sweetest thing I can remember drinking, generating small
but audible gasps of satisfaction as it went down. There you go.
Which means what? That cold and fizzy beats room temperature and
still? That water trumps wine? Actually, it means the bloke running
the tiny café really knew how to stiff any passing tourists: my
small Badoit bottle ended up costing me €2.50. There, indeed, you
go
CJ
It seems it is the same in South Africa - that is, a wine shop or bottle store will usually have aisle upon aisle of South African wine and not much else, except perhaps the obligatory (and usually dusty) bottle of Moet or Veuve at a ridiculously high price. (The wine is also almost always 14% ABV as a minimum, sometimes as high as 15 or 15.5, and SA wine law allows up to a 1% difference in alcohol content between to what's listen on the label and what's in the bottle, so some could even be up near 16% in reality.)
ReplyDeleteIn the UK, as a consumer you are used to having a grand selection from all over the world, even in a supermarket. It's true that you pay a large premium for wine here, but you do have tremendous choice!