White Beaune and 1970 vintage port

New Year's Eve has come upon us but there's time for one more post before Big Ben chimes the year out! This evening I'll be thinking of Paul who so kindly gave us the tour of the clock tower back in October, one of the highlights of 2013. The Torygraph has an interview with him today which is well worth a read.

I'm struggling to think of a theme for this post except that it's the second "white burg and port" report of the year as there was that rather interesting tasting at the Bakers' Hall earlier in the year.

The white burg we drank last night was a Beaune 1er cru Clos des Mouches 2006 from Yves Darviot. This was G's penultimate bottle and we drank it with some wild sea bass which I'd foraged from Selfridges food hall.

I adore white Beaune and this was no exception. It was a pleasing mid-pale gold colour and looked inviting. On the nose I found vanilla while G thought there was something floral going on, possibly heather honey. On the palate, it was dry, rich and full, but not blowsy. It was fully mature and in excellent condition. Possibly inspired by G's reference to honey, I detected a hint of beeswax, both in terms of texture and taste, but it wasn't unpleasant.

On a previous occasion, back in April 2010, we had a horizontal tasting and gave this a 9 while the 2005 received a 10. This time again we felt the 2006 scored 9 points and spent some time debating why this was. The best reason we could come up with was that it was lacking the narrow core of acidity that the best whites have - "the blade of Damascus" G said -  its backbone could have been firmer. Still, it was very pleasing and went down a treat, and it's sad that Yves has retired. I'll certainly be looking out for some white Beaune from Audiffred and Rateau at the Burgundy Portfolio en primeur tasting in January.

The vintage port was an old favourite, Smith Woodhouse 1970. We decanted this for lunch with friends on Sunday, but there was some left over so I had a cheeky glass last night and we'll be polishing it off tonight. It had flavours of prune and liquorice, and G thought there was a car tyre thing going on. This particular bottle was bottled in Oporto, whereas previously I've had it bottled in the UK - the famous bottle with the white splodge on, now a treasured part of my bottle collection.

Somehow this one seemed less developed than those were. If I'd been tasting it blind I doubt whether I'd have guessed it was as old as 1970. It's still a jolly nice drop.

In other news, I acquired a lovely fuzzy red notebook for Christmas, which I've decided to dedicate to wine notes instead of using scrappy little pieces of paper. A resolution for the new year is to make more detailed tasting notes in future rather than the "we drank this, it was great" that has been happening a lot lately.

Thanks for reading and I wish you a very happy 2014!

Dinner at mine, Sat 7th Dec

Last Saturday, ACC, Baron McG and G joined me for dinner. The date had been in the diary for a long time!

We kicked off with a bottle of blanc de noirs Cremant de Bourgogne from old favourite Domaine Felettig, and some Roka cheese crispies. Public transport problems added excitement but fortunately G and I managed to exercise self-restraint and there was still some fizz left for our guests when they arrived. We thought this has really come on since we bought it, and is developing nicely, and G suggested that I should set up a cremant ladder and store it for an additional year or two before drinking. Tempting!

With our starter of wild Irish sea trout, we had this bottle of Chassagne Montrachet 1er cru les Caillerets 2002 from Lequin-Colin. I got two bottles at a recent auction and G and I had drunk the first on an earlier occasion and considered it impeccable. Fortunately the second bottle was too, and it was everything you look for in 1er cru Chassagne, very classy and a great match with the sea trout. Definitely a 10 on the Premier Cru Project scale.

Then it was on to the piece de resistance, this magnum of 1971 Echezeaux from Prosper Maufoux, which was another auction find and quite a steal. The level looked promising, and the label was authentically filthy.

What can I say about this? It was everything I'd hoped for. The nose was very sweet and remarks about "hint of the sugar bag" were made (by me), but ACC thought this was unfair, and that 1971 was just a really great year for red Burgundy. It was absolutely delicious and went really well with the slow-cooked leg of lamb and gratin dauphinoise which I cooked. Baron McG was pleased to see there was some redcurrant jelly to go with it, and the wine and the food did go very well together.

Then it was on to the cheeseboard... these were mainly from Beillevaire on Montpelier St where the delightful shop assistant guided me to something which she called a Chablis (I think this must actually have been an Affidelice au Chablis) and the most amazing 2 year old Comte, as well as a Selles-sur-Cher which was practically climbing up the wall, and the saltier of the two Roqueforts they have. We also had some Stichelton from Selfridges - two blue cheeses because we were drinking port. As it was a special occasion, I'd also made some of my signature exfoliating hardcore oatcakes...

A few weeks ago G had tipped me off that Aldi of all places were selling a 30 year old tawny port. As there are no Aldis round here, I asked my parents to look out for it. Resisting the temptation to launch into a lengthy comparative socio-economic analysis of the north Northamptonshire / south Leicestershire region, it turned out that Kettering Aldi didn't sell it, but Market Harborough Aldi did! Thanks Dad for getting two bottles for me. It came in a hilarious extra-bulky and heavy decanter and wooden box. Given the price, £30, less than most 20 year old tawnies, we thought it was very respectable, and it did indeed come across as more complex than a 20 year old. I shall enjoy drinking the rest of it, and it has the added advantage that it will keep for a while after opening, so doesn't have to be guzzled in a hurry.

Alongside this, we had an unexpected treat from ACC, some 1997 Quinta da Roeda from Croft. He served this to us blind, so we had the usual couple of minutes of inaccurate guesses before its identity was revealed. When we found out what it was, it made sense - it had felt as though it might be 15-20 years old. It was fun to contrast the two styles.

We rounded off with an assiette de chocolat created by G, including some lovely Prestat chocolates supplied by Baron McG. All in all, a really fun evening. I hope 2014 brings more of the same!

Stuff out of storage

One of the drawbacks of living in a postage stamp-sized studio flat boutique penthouse in zone 1 is that there's not much space for one's personal wine cellar. Some get round this by storing their wine at the rural parental residence, but I find it easier to use the storage facility at Locke-King Vaults. My wine lives in a WWII air raid shelter until I decide that the joyous day has come and it can be taken out of storage.

It all runs very smoothly right up to the point where the delivery man encounters the porter of my building who 99.9% of the time makes a giant fuss about doing his job i.e. taking in parcels. Fortunately, last Friday I had a random day off work so when the porter decided to ring me at 7.45 a.m. I was able to don a hasty dressing gown and take delivery of my three boxes.

First up was a case of this Morgon 2009 from Domaine Boulon. 2009 was a very good year for Beaujolais and this certainly hit the spot. Drinking now but with no rush, it was top notch Morgon and went very well with our Breakfast Pig sausages from Turner and George. It will see me comfortably through the winter, and at £90 in bond equates to a fully-paid up bottle price of £11.40 plus storage and delivery costs, making it excellent value. I'm looking forward to trying the very special Cuvee Pauline from the same producer, but based on this, I should probably wait a couple of years.

Then there was a six-pack of this white St-Aubin 1er cru Les Frionnes from Latour-Labille. This cost £120 for six, so worked out at £26.40 a bottle all paid up, not including storage and delivery. It was pale gold in colour and looked very nice in the glass. I got lemon and vanilla on the nose and G found that it reminded him of Leflaive Bourgogne Blanc, praise indeed. On the palate it was precise and classy, with enough grip to work well with G's signature lamb biryani. Again it was drinking now but there's no rush, although I doubt it will hang around. All in all, I was delighted with it and we thought it was probably about as good a St-Aubin as you're likely to find. We gave it a 9 on the Premier Cru Project scale.

The third wine was this Volnay 2005 from Comte Armand which I'd been looking forward to getting my hands on. I believe this came from Berry Bros back in the day. I bought a case, but on the stock sheet it turned out to be two six-packs, so I was able to get one of them out and leave the other in. We decanted it for 2 hours. It certainly looked the part, both the bottle and the wine which was a dark purple colour and very glossy. On the palate, it was very polished and we thought it was competing in the premier cru league. My case cost £180 in bond making it £20.40 a bottle all paid-up (excluding storage and delivery) but this was certainly £30 if not £40 wine.

However, if I'm honest, I found it a little on the "international" side rather than reflecting Burgundian terroir. Perhaps I've been spoiled by drinking far more expressive Volnays from Vincent Perrin. I found this wine quite hard-going, one of those wines where one glass would be enough. Still, we heroically persisted, and as we approached the end of the bottle it seemed to improve, and developed notes of black cherry. Perhaps it just went better with cheese. I think I'll tuck it away for a while and give it 3 hours in the decanter in future. At least the other six pack is still in storage and it can stay there for a few more years!

A quartet of old clarets

Over the past few weeks G and I have been drinking the occasional bottle of claret to make a change.

Of the four, this Chateau Talbot 1978 was my least favourite. I found it quite hard work. On the nose, I got soil, while it had a very bitter finish. "Interesting" say my notes, euphemistically. There was some fruit underneath the soil and before the bitterness, and it was better with food, but I wouldn't be unduly bothered if I never got to drink it again.

This Chateau de Malescot St-Exupery 1978 was more like it. It didn't look old, but glossy, and had clearly been very well kept as it wasn't remotely over the hill. It had big, manly flavours including coffee, cocoa, charcoal, tobacco, earth and black cherry. It improved after an hour in the decanter, and was definitely not a "lunchtime claret". We thought it would probably have been undrinkable when it was young, but it was definitely drinkable now.

This 1978 Chateau Gruaud Larose was fabulous. We gave it 15 minutes in the decanter before we started drinking it. It was very cabernet sauvignon, with enticing blackcurrant and mint on the nose, and was very correct, smooth and poised on the palate. I wrote that it was still going strong after 90 minutes and showing no sign of age; shortly after I'd written that, inevitably, it faded.

Finally, there was this 1967 Chateau Montrose, my favourite of the four.

I suspect everyone who is into wine can remember the first, special wine that introduced them to this world where the angel choirs sing etc.etc. In 1995, G and I stayed for a weekend at the Crown in Southwold, and one evening at dinner he spotted a 1970 Montrose on their bin-end list for £40. That was a lot of money for us poor students back in those days but was nevertheless a steal. We ordered it and after one sniff, my eyes lit up, and the rest is history. It was the day I turned 22, and I've had a sentimental attachment to Montrose ever since.

From all accounts the 1967 shouldn't have been any good so I didn't have particularly high expectations. In fact it didn't seem old or in any way over the hill. It was glossy and dark in colour, and on the nose G got mint and pencilbox while I found baked fruit. The texture was lovely and silky-smooth, medium weight, and the finish was great. All in all, it was excellent old claret.

Most wine writers appear to have written off these old clarets, but our experience has been that they do have remarkable longevity and if they have been kept well, can still give great pleasure. That's a big if, though. Buying at auction is risky but G is very careful to look out for bottles with good levels, as that seems to be the best indicator that the wine is still ok. Thanks G for sharing these with me!

The Shiori, 1st November

Three or four years ago, I was invited to lunch by a recruitment consultant whose services we had used a lot in the past at work. I didn't want to have lunch with her and spend an hour making small-talk and asking her about her holidays, but am hopelessly unassertive and couldn't think of a polite way to get out of it. To make matters worse, it was left up to me to decide where we should go, but I had no idea what would be reasonable, so decided that the Drummond Street enclave of vegetarian Indian restaurants would probably have something that would do and we ended up walking along Drummond Street looking for somewhere. Drummond Street is quite grotty, and that end of it wasn't familiar to me - I know the Euston end better - so I was very surprised to see a tiny restaurant with the most beautiful-looking sushi visible from the entrance. I pointed it out to the recruitment consultant but she wasn't interested in sushi so we went to one of the Indian places instead.

The sushi place I saw that day was called Sushi of Shiori and I didn't forget about it - soon afterwards, I went there with a colleague for lunch and although I know nothing about sushi, I could tell this was amazing, and beautifully presented. I found out that the chef, Takashi Takagi, had previously worked at Umu, which is a highly regarded Japanese restaurant in Mayfair. The only worry was that, although they only had 8 covers, they didn't seem to have any other customers and I was worried that it wouldn't last long.

I embarked on a campaign to go there at every opportunity and on one memorable occasion went with M, who speaks Japanese, and we ordered a whole load of wonderful sushi, ate it all, and ordered the same again. "You do realise that will be quite expensive?" asked the woman. Damn right and we didn't care! Then there was the first time I went there with G, and we sat at the counter watching the chef doing his thing. G's head was making small movements like a cat watching you open the tin of cat food. After a favourable review by Jay Rayner, I no longer had to worry about it being empty, but had the opposite problem, trouble getting in. Then it closed down completely!

But all is well. Sushi of Shiori has moved to Bayswater where it has reopened as The Shiori. It has doubled in size and they offer just two set menus, with or without sake tasting. G and I decided to treat ourselves and went there on Friday for the works. It wasn't cheap, but it was one of the best meals either of us has ever had.

When we arrived, it was gratifying to be greeted by Hitomi, the chef's wife, who remembered me from the Drummond Street days. I don't think I ever really spoke to her that much back there, as I mainly went for lunch and it wasn't an occasion for chit-chat, but here at the Shiori there was far more interaction, as she explained each course and each sake to us, and by the end of the evening it was just us and one other couple still there, and conversation was very lively. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We went for the 12 course menu with sake tasting. This is what we got.

En aperitif, this was a slightly fizzy sake with wild strawberries floating in it. Hitomi seemed rather shocked when I started using my chopsticks to fish them out at the end, but there was no way I was letting them go to waste!

A slice of tofu floating in some soy sauce. I gather they make their own soy sauce. G observed that the tofu had the consistency of a panna cotta - wobbly.

Another sake. I didn't make notes on these, but gather that some are "high grade" i.e. the rice has been polished very finely (if I've understood correctly) and some are not. This was low-grade but rustic enough to go with the food. Apparently matching sake with food isn't something that happens much, the Japanese just drink it.

This was sock-eye salmon with little pearls of roe. Eating the roe with chopsticks was practically impossible and would make a good party game. I ended up using my slice of lime as an additional piece of cutlery.

Sweet shrimp in a sauce made out of sea urchin. Absolutely delicious. Here we really needed spoons to finish off the sauce. I may have to smuggle some in next time.

This was a sort of savoury custard, with delicious things suspended in it - a gingko nut, some mushrooms, some fishy things. Lovely.

A plate of sashimi, complete with edible flowers. We particularly enjoyed the squid which was in the little pot, in a sauce made from bonito guts. (I didn't hear the "guts" bit when she was explaining this to us, but I trust G not to wind me up.) The mackerel was from Cornwall and arrives the same day, which is one day earlier than the fish they used to get when they were at Drummond Street. The flowers were very tasty too. How very Cereal magazine.

More sake. I'm not sure I'd ever really drunk sake before - several of these reminded us of fino sherry, and some of them had a faint smell of apples on the nose. They were mainly very clean-tasting and did seem to go really well with the food.

Out of so many delicious items, it's hard to pick one and say it was the best, but for me this was it: red mullet rolled up with plum sauce, covered in a sort of crispy rice, and deep-fried. It was like the best fish and chips ever, but without the chips. I could quite easily have scoffed another five portions of this.

This was a snow-crab cake. After the heights of the red mullet, we thought it was good but not a highlight.

Wild sea bass with ponzu sauce.

Sake served in a cedar box. Hitomi deliberately over-filled G's glass so that some of it went in the box - apparently that's how they used to drink it back in the days before glasses.

Pickled ginger, wasabi and soy sauce to accompany...

... the first round of sushi! Complete with little brush to apply soy sauce, since we cack-handed Western types can't dunk the sushi without it disintegrating and making a dreadful mess (in my case, at any rate).

I got so carried away eating the second round of sushi that I'd got half way through before I realised I hadn't taken a photo. The one I'd already eaten was scallop.

Enticing-looking bowl of miso soup ("good for your tummy" said Hitomi)...

... with a fuck-off great big piece of lobster floating in it!

Sake being warmed in a little pot.

Yuzu sorbet. We shared our puddings; G went for this and I went for chestnut ice cream. The best thing about the puddings in my opinion was the candied yuzu peel. That would make a wicked marmalade.

All gone!

Last sake of the evening.

And we finished off with a nice cup of tea.

We'd been there for four hours - the pacing of the meal was relatively slow in such a way that encouraged you to savour everything. The couple at the other table were talking to Hitomi at this point and she said that some customers hate the place - and possibly hate her informal style of service - and never come back, but fortunately quite a few people do love it and are repeat customers. I can see that if you're not up for weird raw fishy things, it wouldn't be your place. As for Michelin stars, the food definitely deserves them (at least two, we thought) but the decor isn't starchy - it reminded us of being in a spa! - and Hitomi and her colleague's service is friendly and charming rather than stuffy.

We asked for the bill and when it was given to G, he told Hitomi that I was paying. I said we'd agreed he would pay next time and, quick as a flash, she said "Oh, we must make sure we put up the price in that case." Ha ha! They seem to change the menu quite often, possibly every month, as the seasonal aspect is quite important. I think next time we'll skip the sake tasting which, while very interesting and enjoyable, was something you probably only need to do once. Already looking forward to it!

SPNS dinner, 14th October

If it's a Monday night, it's £5 corkage at the Hawksmoor. This is such a tempting deal that G suggested the SPNS have an away match and instead of meeting at our normal venue, the Savile, we went to the Air Street branch of the Hawksmoor which is the newest of the four. I hadn't been to this one before and was pleasantly surprised when, instead of descending into a subterranean world, we actually had to walk up some stairs to find the bar and restaurant, which overlook Regent Street. There's also more variety on the menu - it does fish and seafood alongside enormous slabs of beef.

G and I arrived to find ACC and D already seated and getting their wines sorted out. G had relaxed the rule-book on this occasion so we were encouraged to bring treasures from our cellars rather than having to apply a price limit.

We kicked off with a Chablis 1er cru Sechet 2008 from Dauvissat-Camus, provided by ACC. This was very well-received - it was scintillating, well-balanced, pure and had great minerality. It was drinking perfectly now. Textbook Chablis.

Next we had my last bottle of white Corton 2005 from Domaine Parent. We discovered that this came into its own in the colder weather - having had it back in July, it worked much better on this October evening. It had it all going on and was big, full, earthy and serious with a hint of what I think of as cabbage on the nose (but in a good way) while D detected mushrooms. Not a wine for glugging. P had joined us by this point and the food was on its way.

This was my starter - "Queenies" which seem to be mini scallops (can this possibly be right?) deep-fried and served with tartare sauce. My only criticism was that there weren't enough of them but that was probably just as well considering the generous portions of steak to follow.

We moved on to the reds. D and G had brought out the big guns i.e. a pair of magnums, as the £5 corkage applies whatever the size of bottle. First up was D's 1973 Spring Mountain cabernet sauvignon, from the Napa Valley. This wowed everyone. It had wonderful cabernet characteristics - G got blackcurrant, eucalyptus and mint while D found berries, cherries, and chocolate. We all agreed it was amazingly youthful and vibrant for a 40 year old wine, and it was a real privilege to drink.

There was quite a contrast with the next wine, a 1985 Pommard provided by G. This was a Hospices de Beaune wine bottled by Laboure-Roi. It was fully mature burgundy and very old school i.e. hint of the sugar bag, tinned strawberries and a whiff of the farmyard. It was certainly very sensual. P commented "who would have thought that a wine with liquorice and poo on the nose would be quite this sublime on the palate" and in the absence of T (who was sadly missed), wins this month's pungent comment competition.

A random photo of a red wine which I took just because it looked so wonderful and glossy in the glass. I'm pretty sure this was the Spring Mountain. We had steak and chips to go with the reds but so much was going on by this stage that I failed to take photos. As usual, the food was spot on.

Finally, it was time for dessert and P provided this German eiswein to go with it. I could type the label out again or you could just read it from the photo... I found the nose very exciting and have written "hint of cyanide?" which was intended as a compliment. P found raspberries and toffee on the palate, which was very well-balanced and poised. "Complex, long, refreshing" said D, while G and ACC both liked it very much too.

A photo of it in the glass, what a fabulous colour!

All in all, another great SPNS evening, and thanks to the staff at the Hawksmoor who handled our requests for decanting and multiple glasses very smoothly. I'll definitely be back.