literary tastings

Betimes I led my thirsty servant ‘Friday’ MacWilliam along to The Daniel Defoe where the innkeeper has made some capital additions to his list, including some Frankish wines – among them a Chateauneuf -du-Pape and a Sancerre – which are seldom encountered in houses of public resort. Better still, all (except the fizzers) is made available by the glass – a brave and a bold move, as some of the better wines may prove slow in commerce, but it ill behoves us one and all to let them slip by us for want of the odd ten-shillings.

Of the whites, the Sancerre (£4.05 – all prices for 175ml), from Remy Pannier, is a bit more rounded than most of the New World examples of Sauvignon Blanc that we’re used to, but still with a fresh, grassy nose and plenty of mouth-filling, zingy gooseberry fruit. It’s good to see a Gewurztraminer (Jean Geiler, 2000: £3.80) on the list as well, and this golden, fullbodied example is nicely perfumed and full of the typical lychee flavours with a bit of tarry discipline to keep them from getting silly. My typically garbled tasting note says that it’s an ArsËne Wenger amongst wines – I wonder if my, by now rather addled, man ‘Friday’ (unused to the effects of alcohol as he is) was behind this baseless averral?

Kim Crawford Marlborough New Zealand Dry Riesling 2002 – another inexplicably neglected grape in terms of pub offerings – is £3.95-worth of green-gold, floral-scented loveliness. Quite Germanic in style (in a good way) it has crisp acidity to match the lush tropical fruits – pineapple and mangoes were agreed upon by the assembled company after some lively debate: ‘That’s never fuckin’ guavas mate, you’re avin’ a fuckin ’larf, intcha’. Zinfandel sometimes seems to me to be an Eliza Dolittle sort of a grape on which, as with Chardonnay, the literary winemaker can impose his manly will, as it were, and make of it what he wishes. In this case, Pepperwood Grove in California (£3.50) have turned it into a huge mouthful of ripe blackcurranty fruit with hints of fruit-cakey spice and a hefty 13.5% of alcohol. The Chateauneuf, Reserve Benoit XII from Auguste Bessac, is thoroughly creditable, given the money (which is £4.25) and its relative youth (being from the 2001 vintage). Quite light in colour and body, it nonetheless has good ‘attack’ and plenty of peppery, brambly, spicy fruit which lingers for a goodly time.

‘Double, double,
toil and trouble,
Fire burn and cauldron bubble,
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog’’
(Macbeth: Act IV, Scene 1.)

It sounds as though these may have been some of the ingredients in the wines they used to dish out at the Shakespeare which is located, with great precision, on Shakespeare Walk. ‘When I came here a couple years ago they were terrible – I wouldn’t cook with them, let alone drink them’ says mine host Ken. Now even the cheap stuff is good, the Piemonte Barbera Araldica 2001 (£2.60 – all prices for 175ml) being a softly spoken, pink little thing but with plenty of those cherries and even some of the almonds without which no self respecting Italian red could show its face in public. The Mill Shiraz 2001 from Windowrie Estate in Cowra, Australia (£3.60) is a bit of a bruiser. It has some liquorice swirling among the big syrupy, black cherry flavours and is mercifully free of those medicinal notes (is it wintergreen?) that put me off a lot of Aussie Shiraz.

Having blathered on earlier about the irritating lack of words like Sancerre in the average publican’s vocabulary, I was cheered to find another one here, in the form of Domaine de Sarry 2001 (£3.80). It s difficult to avoid saying gooseberries, apples, nettles, grass and smoke when talking about Sauvignon Blanc, but at least this one has a bit of all of them, rounded off by a judicious jigger of cat’s pee, and is all the better for it. Santa Isabel Chardonnay/Viognier from Argentina (£3.50) is free from all forthcomings of the feline fundament, and none the worse for it. A little like nuzzling one’s nose between the cheaply-perfumed bosoms of a superannuated, but still sexy, Tiller Girl – ‘Come to granny’, she’d say – it’s pinkily peachy, and with long apricotty flavours to boot.

I must sign off now as there are two men in white coats approaching the front door – out the bathroom window, methinks.

Alan, the tenant of The Daniel Defoe, is considering hosting a wine-tasting evening on 9 October. Please contact us on info@n16mag.com or phone 020 7502 2532 if you are interested in attending. Or speak to Alan direct.