Cows at Chaintres

On our recent Yapp sortie to see our French vignerons in Burgundy and the Loire, I became very aware of the huge range of weird and wonderful creatures that we encountered along our travels. Normally, of course, vineyard domaines are essentially agricultural places therefore one would expect to see cats and dogs and the occasional chicken wandering freely around. A few of our growers still practice polyculture, so we were fairly certain to come across the local bovine breed of Charolais, and plenty of sheep. Polyculture is historically a simple way of insurance for a small domaine - a way of spreading ones risks as a safety measure just in case any of the harvests fail totally due to adverse weather conditions. Ideally one would have a few hectares of vines, a small cereal crop maybe, some vegetables as well as livestock. It’s the perfect way not to have all your eggs in one basket - although if you had a lot of chickens…

However, there were several other creatures that featured. Firstly, when visiting the tufa chalk cellars of Vouvray and Montlouis; painstakingly hewn out by hand and ideal for keeping an ambient temperature of 12ºC; one had to be very aware of low flying missiles in the shape of swifts and swallows which were constantly arriving and departing to feed their nesting young.  Others were the pigeons that we dissuaded from roosting on our window ledge in Tours, the cockerel at Menetou-Salon that seemed to have mistaken twelve noon for dawn and the wonderfully realistic home-made “birds of prey” that were dotted all around the cereal fields of Oiron (Thouarsais) that acted as very effective scarecrows while fluttering menacingly in the wind.

But now the creatures started to get a little more bizarre. At Chateau de Ligre, (Chinon) during our vineyard tour, where one could clearly see the effect of the soil on different parcels of vines (the sandier soils producing a lighter, earlier drinking style, while those vines grown on the heavier clay-based soils give a much fuller, richer and more tannic style); we were treated to an amazing early evening orchestra of sound by countless numbers of crickets in the nearby long grass. I was immediately reminded of a similar experience in the Dentelles de Montmirail in Gigondas some five years ago, when the Provencale crickets (cicadas) were also fully on song.

Le Crocodile

Still at Chateau de Ligre, after a comprehensive and detailed tasting of their range conducted by Pierre Ferrand in their pristine and stylishly modern on-site shop premises, we walked the short distance back to our vehicle, and we heard the most amazing symphonic clamour emanating from what seemed to be the next field. Pierre said the racket was the croaking made by hundreds of bull frogs in a lake some half a mile away. I couldn’t believe the decibel level of the cacophony of amorous amphibians with their arsenal of mating calls.

Probably the strangest creature was found inside the collegiate church of Saint-Maurice in the picturesque town of Oiron where, as previously mentioned in past Yapp catalogues, we found an eight foot stuffed crocodile mounted on to one of the walls. The explanation for this is that the jaw of the crocodile, a reptile which at that time was deemed to hold mystical powers, was ground up to form a paste (hopefully the croc was dead at this stage) to make a magical potion which would cure the townsfolk of the dreaded plague. Certainly different! As we left the sacred church we noticed, in Latin, an inscription on top of the arched entrance which read, ‘Here is the End’!

A bon taing bon vin

I’m not sure about the biology or psychology of the weird male collecting gene but I definitely possess it and can’t remember a time when I didn’t. Interestingly it has very little to do with material value (although that can creep into it) and more to do with bringing order out of chaos and creating sets of things that belong together. While I’ve always dismissed train spotters as a bunch of sad losers (but somehow not as sad as bus spotters) I do (sort of) understand where they’re coming from. In my youth I collected comics and kept them in plastic bags in issue order and records (limited editions, picture sleeves and coloured vinyl were all sought after - so lots of fun there) and as an adult I’ve progressed on to corkscrews, wine and (inexplicably) the branded stickers from bunches of bananas.

Tu me plais

My friend Roland, who is a respected, soon to turn 50, secondary school history teacher collects bricks (like the banana stickers there’s value there), Coke bottles (from places you didn’t know had heard of Coke) and vintage bicycles, so he’s definitely a fellow sufferer. Although we have no desire whatsoever to pursue each others interests there is a mutual appreciation. If I found a good brick or Coke bottle I’d definitely try and acquire them on Roland’s behalf and he’d certainly reciprocate if a fine corkscrew crossed his path. Both my sons show signs of inheriting the defect as evidenced by an obsessional (and costly) Pokémon card acquisition phase and a casual interest in banana stickers.

This blog comes to you at the dawn of a new collection the seed of which germinated overnight. I’ve always been a fan of US State car registration strap-lines as they succinctly proclaim what a whole region is about. New Hampshire’s - ‘Live Free or Die’ is a classic, Florida’s ‘Sunshine State’ is more obvious as is Maine’s ‘Vacationland’. It occurred to me in the still of the night that various French wine appellations have had similar attempts at distilling their raison d’être into a strap-line. There’s Muscadet - tu me plais, as found on my Dad’s fridge, Côte Rôtie’s immodest Légende d’un Terroir and Hermitage’s famous A Bon Taing Bon Vin. Admittedly a measly 3 examples isn’t much of a collection but it’s a start. It is a platform on which to build. By this time next year I might have hundreds! Nurse! Nurse! 

Beaucoup damour

Since writing this article I’ve discovered the following additions:

Gigondas - Un Trait d’Esprit sur Votre Table  

Quincy - Beaucoup d’Amour

Sancerre - donne moi ton secret

I’ve also met a woman who collects banana stickers so maybe it’s not a weird male gene after all….

Château Simone Wooden Box

I don’t know at what age specifically you officially become eligible to appear on “Grumpy Old Men” but I suspect that I’m getting near.. or at least getting nearer than I would like. I have become increasingly irritated by the way that day-to-day products are packaged, not only the wastefulness  but the simple practicalities like having to find scissors to open a new razor, a knife to open a pack of smoked bacon or the way in which a cardboard carton of milk never opens without a bit of a struggle.

I make my daughters packed lunch sandwiches and wrap them in greaseproof paper, as this just works for all concerned and when a product packing “just works” it is a real boon and when the product inside “just works” as well it’s a pleasant exception to the rule..  however in the world of Yapp it gets even better, let me explain..

In my first week at Yapp I saw the wooden cases from a recent shipment of Château Simone - they were suitably classic in style and matched the iconic wine inside (our tasting notes start with “A rare unreconstructed historical gem that belies comparison”) and having grown up in world of Airfix WWII models hearing that this was one of Winston Churchills favourite wines just added to it’s appeal.

The wooden cases are indeed iconic but apart from keeping it’s valuable cargo safe in transit across the English Channel it’s solved many a problem at Yapp HQ. I’ve seen the wooden boxes used for filing tasting notes, storing glasses and on the odd occasion various collections of staff lunches on Yapp Sale Days. Our shop in Mere uses them to present wines but they can double as furniture too - when staff need a quick adhoc discussion gathering round a PC the boxes have been used as chairs - and still survive to support the next meetings.

So, I’m not suggesting that you buy 4 cases of Château Simone to replace your dining chairs at home but if ever you get chance to either taste (or taste again) this iconic wine or utilise the classic wooden cases that look after them both have their uses and are definitely worth exploring!

A temporary release (good behaviour, I think) from my normal Saturday shop duties at Yapp Brothers, enabled me to add a couple of extra days holiday, thus making a nice long weekend. During that time, I sampled drinks at two very different venues, so culturally different infact that I decided to write about it.

London Coliseum

Both involved a visit to nearby Salisbury; but the first experience meant taking a train to London Waterloo so that I could attend my first opera at the stunning location of the London Coliseum in St Martins Lane near Leicester Square. After taking in an initial culture fix at the nearby National Gallery and National Portrait Gallery, the time was nigh to enter the Coliseum. No gladiators or lions in sight, so I made for the Dress Circle bar, (no, no you don’t have to wear a dress! then again, if it had been the weekend…..anyway I digress) where I enquired what white wines were available. The response was a Pinot Grigio, South African Sauvignon and an Australian Chardonnay - I went for the Sauvignon, purchased a quarter amphorae and passed over my denarii. No change forthcoming - which was good really as many places don’t accept them.

The Opera was the opening night of Satyagraha by Phillip Glass, performed by the English National Opera. It’s quite “modern” by most standards, and maybe not to many traditional opera-followers’ tastes, but I have loved Glass’ compositions for many years, and this was my first chance to see “live action”. His music is very minimalist and constantly repetitive but at the same time haunting, and full of passion and feeling. The Opera is the composer’s view of the life of Ghandi and the development of non-violent protest. The lead role is brilliantly portrayed by Alan Oke, with Elena Xanthoudakis giving a fantastic performance as Miss Schlessen. Even though the performance was over 3 hours long and meant that I didn’t reach home until 2am - it was well worth the late night and I shall certainly return for more.

Salisbury Football Stadium

The second part of my release took me to Salisbury again, but this time to the Raymond McEnhill stadium - the home of Salisbury Football Club. The visitors were Wrexham F.C - a team that I have followed throughout my childhood in North Wales. In their halcyon days they have beaten such sides as FC Porto, Arsenal, Birmingham, Newcastle and Middlesborough in various cup competitions, and have even reached the quarter finals of the European Cup Winners Cup, where they narrowly lost to eventual winners Anderlecht in 1976 (honestly - you can check it out!). Now however, those days seem long gone and they are languishing in mid-table mediocrity in The Blue Square Premier (non-league!) division. Mind you, given the situation a few years ago when the then Chairman was attempting to sell the stadium for housing development - we are grateful that the club still exists.

The drink of choice this time was a flagon of the excellent, locally brewed ale Summer Lightning - a straw-coloured, fresh, hoppy bitter at 5%abv. (Sorry, didn’t really look at the wine offerings - not appropriate somehow). A crowd of 948 attended, on what turned out to be the first warm and pleasant day of Spring, and they witnessed a dominant Wrexham snatch a draw from the jaws of victory, as Salisbury’s 10 men scored a disputed last minute penalty, much to the displeasure of the 100 or so travelling fans.

I’m pleased to say that I was very much at home at both (very different) venues. One of the reasons why someone follows their team or interest with such dedication, is that they hope to be present on a memorable or unforgettable occasion - an occasion when they can say “I was there”! Whether that is watching Wrexham FC trail Luton Town 3-0 with 20 minutes to go and ending up winning 4-3, or being on the edge of ones seat listening to a powerful, enthralling and meaningful aria from an opera.

Follow you passion and you will surely be rewarded. (although this might take rather a long time in Wrexham’s case!)

Bellamy’s enjoys an enviably secluded West End location on Bruton Place, isolated from the bustle of 21^st Century traffic. There is an aura of calm in the oblong dining room, tastefully decorated with vintage Parisian posters and it looks and feels more like a private members club than a public eating house. This is unsurprising as the fastidious and charming patron, Gavin Rankin, cut his teeth working for the late ‘King of Clubs’ Mark Birley. Few people in the capital can know more (or divulge less) about the social lives of the great and the good.

Bellamy’s core clientele are the well-bred, well-heeled denizens of Mayfair who like to be well-fed and well-oiled. Saville Row suits and uncultured pearls are de rigueur here but I like to drop by periodically to lower the tone. If anyone objects they’re far too polite to let on.

Bellamy’s menu is short, covering one side of A4 card with a similarly minimalist wine list on the reverse. Both are crafted with unerring good taste and disappointments here are exceedingly rare. This is not an address that likes to take itself or its customers outside of their comfort zones. Comfort is a word that could be applied to the cuisine at Bellamy’s in that it provides simple food that you want to eat. It was an obvious choice for a Friday lunch with a discerning oenophile friend.  

The waiting staff at Bellamy’s are courteous and attentive having been schooled by the boss who doesn’t miss much. Crisp white linen and excellent brown bread set a reassuring tone at the table. Through a mutual reluctance to commit to any single dish we asked to split two starters, a request that was obliged without hesitation. We therefore kicked-off with a superb (half slice each) of foie gras terrine and apricot compote with a glass each of Vouvray Sec 2007 from Domaine Aubert. [I should declare an interest in the wines we sampled - I'm a firm believer in combining business with pleasure.] The apple-scented Chenin Blanc married beautifully well with the rich pâté and my hard to please guest seemed contented. To follow we had whitebait served with muslin-wrapped lemon halves and a terrific coarse tartare sauce.  We accompanied this with a glass of Cassis: Clos Sainte Magdeleine 2007. The oily aromatic wine and crisp, flavoursome fish were another great partnership that vindicated our decision to share. To be fair all the starters here are good. The scrambled eggs with black truffle shavings is a personal favourite and the gravlax is legendary.

For my main course I opted for a veal burger which I requested with (exemplary) French fries rather than the suggested mashed potato, which struck a rare off note. A further surprise was that the burger lacked any kind of bun that I would argue was a trade description violation if I wasn’t aware of the patron’s superior menu knowledge. This is a minor gripe. The two pucks of tender meat were delicious as was an unexpected accompanying gravy and side dish of spinach. My sometimes uber critical companion opted for the Coq au Vin which looked, and was declared, to be a pleasingly faithful rendition of a much-abused classic. His only concern was the deployment of polenta pancakes as an unusual carbohydrate component for this French staple. Happily they were deemed delightful and soon disappeared. A bottle of Côte Rôtie 2004 from Champet was, we agreed, an underrated vintage from an underrated producer. Its refreshingly oak-free black fruit flavours and fine-grained tannins complimented our meaty main courses to perfection.

Feeling wonderfully sated we declined desserts but rounded off a very fine lunch with a large expresso and Minstrels® chocolates - the latter being a curious Birley signature to which one soon becomes accustomed.

Bellamy’s of Bruton Place   t 020 7491 2727
e info@bellamysrestaurant.co.uk

Cotes du Thongue Tradition 2009

Before my time in the wine trade and before my time with small children in the house a favourite cousin (Simon) and me would spend a fair few weekends over the summer camping and surfing on the northern shores of Devon and Cornwall.

Simon is a few years younger than me but is still of the age where he was exposed to the music of the 1980s first hand. So, we both spent the decade sorting the wheat from the chaff finding out the obscure gems of the time (Hüsker Dü any one?)

Simon did and still does for that matter live in Potters Bar in Hertfordshire, where oddly rhyming slang remains as popular as it once did in the real East End of London. Or maybe that’s just Simon, I’ve never been that sure as a lot of it I suspect has been created by him personally. On the summer weekends away I’d spend time simply deciphering – “Holly Ghost” <toast> and  “Adam Ants” <pants> still spring to mind..but as always, I digress.

Now, as far as obscure gems go, putting Hüsker Dü to one side for a moment there’s a wine that has been flying out of the doors from Yapp HQ for literally months now. The Côtes De Thongue Tradition 2008 from the Languedoc (I quote “A mid-weight, forward-drinking, crowd-pleasing southern red with a palate of juicy garrigue fruit over subtle tannins”) was literally huge all last year with both our customers and the press relishing the wine.

Last night I tried the new vintage of “the Thongue” – the 2009 that was certainly as good as, if not better then the 2008 – and at £7.95 a bottle I suspect we’ll ship lots more in 2010. So with all my cousins word play still in the back of my mind I was hoping to avoid thinking “the 2009 vintage – it’s all gone Côtes De Thongue” but thankfully this couldn’t be further from the truth!

The Museum Inn, Farnham, Dorset

It felt like we were in the land of the lost as we weaved our way up Zig Zag Hill in thick fog last Friday evening. Our goal; The Museum Inn, Dorset, the reason; The legendary Yapp Christmas party, our immediate aim; to get there in one piece and ahead of Charlie, our fear; he would empty their barrels of 6X before we got there. Thankfully, thanks to my Stig-like driving prowess and Paul’s Ordnance Survey standard navigation (the Sat Nav’s nagging drone had long been confined to the boot), we arrived intact, in deepest, darkest Dorset (Farnham to be precise) and Charlie had barely managed to get to grips with his first pint.

The Museum Inn is a free house with fine dining and Bed & Breakfast, the perfect venue for a Yapp night out. It may seem strange having a Christmas bash in January, but this is the nature of the beast for all of us who serve in the wine trade. December is not a time for relaxation and frivolity; we leave that to you dear customers. Our blood, sweat and tears shed in that festive month are dedicated to ensuring that you all have a wonderful time. Our loved ones are now used to our haggard looks, twitchy behaviour and gentle rocking on Christmas Day a culmination of two months worth of frantic business (for which we are truly grateful). Now it is January, now it is our time…

Two bottles of house Chablis and several rounds of 6X helped freshen the palate and relax the muscles ahead of our meal. The bar was packed, which I took as a good indication for the quality of the menu ahead. We were then seated in our own room, under the watchful eyes of a wall of hunting trophies. I am still not sure whether our hosts had given us our own space for our benefit or the other patrons. Nevertheless, there was no time to consider this as the food started to arrive.

To start, I had opted for pan-fried, diver-caught Lyme Bay scallops and I was delighted with this selection. The scallops were delicious, so tender as to melt in the mouth. With my taste buds well and truly activated, I had to force myself to slowly chew my roast loin of local estate venison with a braised venison pie so to appreciate all the rich flavours.  Again, the cooking skills were self evident with the perfectly cooked meat and the miniature pie was a great addition. I can also venture to comment that the slow-roasted Gloucester Old Spot pork belly was another excellent main course (thanks to Bianca’s kind donation of left overs). The succulent pork was accompanied by some braised red cabbage, which was as good as I have tasted anywhere (sorry Mum)! To finish I had opted for an Assiette of Rhubarb: Rhubarb Crumble, Stem ginger ice cream and Rhubarb Shot, the perfect finish to a fantastic meal.

As we always appreciate, Tom and Jason had once again done us proud with a raid on the Yapp cellars and we were well fuelled with a Magnum tour of the Rhône - J.L Chave Hermitage Rouge 1993, Provence - Domaine de Trévallon Rouge 2005 and Australia - Jasper Hill Georgia’s Paddock Shiraz 2003. All of which were perfect partners to the Museum Inn’s superb cuisine.

Our stay at this most hospitable of venues was all too soon drawing to a close as our carriages arrived to collect us. The friendliness of the staff, the quality of the food and a not inconsiderable bar bill (as it spilled from Tom’s shaking hands and down to the floor one could not help but a liken it to an Andrex ad.) had all contributed to a great evening. It certainly helped to make the stresses and strains of Christmas trading well worth it.

This is where my reportage ends, with us all departing into the darkness with two reliable and brave cabbies. However, in that darkness glowed the neon lights of Legends night club, shining across the counties, like a beacon to weary travellers. However, that, dear readers, is another story……