Two recent dinners

And the blog is back, by popular demand! Well, one person said he was missing it, so after a hiatus over the summer it feels like time to get back to it.

First up, a Monday evening dinner at the Hawksmoor Air Street with T, D and G. We were led for what felt like several miles through the restaurant and eventually arrived at a booth, which was very nice and made it easier to hear each other. Deafening noise is one of the major reasons why I prefer to dine at home these days, along with escalating wine prices. But corkage at the Hawksmoor is just £5 on a Monday, compared with £25 on all other days, and this price applies to bottles of every size, so it was a great opportunity to drink some magnums.

We started with 2008 Chablis 1er cru Fourchaume-Vaulorent 2008 from Domaine Nathalie & Gilles Fevre, which went down very nicely with some historic scallops. Apologies for lack of detail but I wasn't taking notes.

After that we moved on to steak, accompanied by a magnum of Beaune 1er cru Greves 2005 from Yves Darviot, which I believe belonged to me but had been sitting in G's Rutland cellar for a very long time and I had forgotten all about it. In my opinion, there is still no rush on it - these 2005 reds seem to be built to last. Am now wondering if I have any more stashed away?

With dessert, we drank this 1969 5 puttonyos Tokaji Aszu provided by D, which went particularly well with sticky toffee sauces/puddings. Afterwards we repaired to the bar for a quick post-prandial Calvados kindly supplied by T. Thanks all for a great evening.

Then, last Sunday, D came round to my place for lunch. We kicked off with a bottle of white Corton 2008 from Domaine Parent which recently came out of storage and has been providing much pleasure. It was big and rich with great acidity and a certain honeyed quality. D noted some viscosity, and the finish went on for ages. It has beens even better than the 2007 and went very nicely with our smoked salmon.

Then the main event: two Inglenook 1969s. The one on the left was the main release, whereas the one on the right was from a particular cask. Fortunately I am the proud possessor of multiple Riedel claret glasses so we were able to try them side by side, which proved to be a fascinating comparison.

The estate-bottled wine was very cabernet sauvignon, with mint leaf on the nose, and tasted very pure to me, while the cask wine had greater intensity and an extraordinary finish. At one point I glazed over for a few minutes and was unable to join in the conversation because it needed all my attention.

Both Inglenooks seemed to have a lot of menthol going on and would be great to drink if you had a cold! I was thinking about what made them different from claret and the answer seemed to be that they were lacking the woody, cedar notes that you often find in claret. This train of thought led to a suggestion... get some claret out to compare.

Fortunately I had a bottle of my old favourite, Chateau Montrose 1970, sitting on the wine rack (cue story of the Montrose Moment in Southwold on my 22nd birthday), so this was clearly the bottle to go for.

According to G, the Montrose had some merlot in it. I've just checked, and according to the chateau's website, the 1970 vintage was 65% cab sauv, 25% merlot and 10% cabernet franc. It was certainly much woodier, and held its own against the Inglenooks for the first half hour or so - at that point we thought it ranked in between the two - but then completely fell off a cliff and faded, whereas the Inglenooks kept going and didn't change much over time. It was really interesting to try the three together and thanks to D for the wonderful opportunity to drink old Californian wines which we never see in the UK.

We finished off with a glass of Apostoles, which is a 30 year old palo cortado from Gonzalez Byass, bought from Waitrose during one of their intermittent 25% off deals. This wine also has a spot of Pedro Ximenez in it which makes it slightly sweeter than, say, the Dos Cortados 20 year old palo cortado from Williams & Humbert which is super-dry and definitely an aperitif.

It was a really great lunch, and there were no hangovers the next day, which just goes to show the old stuff is the best!

Birthday dinner, Saturday 11th July

It's always great when your birthday falls on a Saturday. However, mine did not get off to the best start when the party people at McCann Erickson, whose office is just next to my block of flats, suddenly decided to make use of the powerful speakers which had been installed on their balcony for their outdoor cinema season, at 12.20 in the morning. My neighbours and I were treated to 20 minutes of this at top volume, which under different circumstances I might have quite enjoyed.

Fortunately the day improved and in the evening G came round for dinner at mine. After a bracing pre-prandial negroni, we cracked on with my birthday present from him: this bottle of Chateau Montrose 1990.

There is a story here, which I've told before, but will tell again as the context is important. When we were staying at the Crown in Southwold on my 22nd birthday, G spotted the 1970 Montrose on the bin end list and it went down in history as the "Montrose Moment" i.e. the moment I really began to understand what fine wine is all about. On discovering that a friend had some stocks of the 1990 vintage, G thought he'd attempt to recreate the experience 20 years on. The only difference being that 1990 is renowned as a great vintage and this was a very expensive bottle of wine, even at a prix d'ami.

Promising level...

Glossy!

We decanted it just before we drank it, and all was well. It was a wonderful, glossy dark colour. I don't drink much claret, and when I do it's usually Latour, cue sound of tumbrils rolling up outside the door but this was very different. It was very smooth, succulent and had a richness to it that came as a welcome surprise. We found ourselves using words such as "voluptuous" and "hedonistic", and noted that it didn't seem very blackcurranty, but the fruit was more like mirabelle plums. It was drinking perfectly at the age of 25 and went down very easily - once I'd made my notes, we didn't feel the need to sit there thinking about it too hard, it was sensual rather than intellectual, and therefore in some ways rather like a Burgundy! G will report back to his friend that it's good to go, no point in hanging around.

Massive piece of rosbif

We had it alongside a mighty fine piece of roasted sirloin on the bone which I'd got from the Ginger Pig earlier in the day, and some roast potatoes, naturally.

Ultimate cheeseboard

And to finish, we had some cheese. For once, I braved La Fromagerie with its notorious Door of Shoulder-Dislocation, as I hadn't been there in ages. I have to admit I was impressed with the range on offer. The Ami du Chambertin was particularly excellent and lasted us till Thursday, and I'm very likely to be going back for more soon.

We polished off the vieux marc from Lyon, and that was that. Another year down. Enormous thanks to G for such a generous and thoughtful birthday present. Now, about 2035...

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!

Burgundy trip, New Year 2013 part two

On the Sunday, after some wonderful croissants for breakfast, we investigated the gîte's tape collection and discovered some funk music which set a cheery mood for the morning's activities, until something went wrong with the tape and it started making a sad droning noise and had to be turned off.

It was a beautiful sunny morning. I made some gougeres which we had warm from the oven, sitting outside on the terrace with a bottle of Bzikot's Bourgogne Blanc 2007 brought from home. ACC had suggested that we all pack some booze with us, as it was unclear what shopping opportunities there would be, and this turned out to be an excellent plan.

Before

Lunch involved this fantastic cheeseboard featuring a declassified Epoisses, a fruity Comté, a Brillat Savarin with a line of truffle down the middle, another cheese with a coating of the kind of grapes and stems they use to make marc, and some quince paste. The board didn't look like this for long!

After

To drink, we had some Dame de Montrose 2008 provided by Baron McG, and a bottle of Giboulot Beaune 2008 from me. A great contrast between Burgundy and claret. The Jacoulot on the left was the traditional "bottle of marc for the house".

After a leisurely afternoon reading the New Yorker, watching an episode of Alan Bennett's "Talking Heads" on ACC's laptop, and having a little snooze, we took a taxi back into Beaune to dine at la Ciboulette, one of the few restaurants in Beaune that's open on a Sunday evening. We received a warm welcome (ACC is a regular) and had the simplest set menu which was 19.5 euros a head for three courses. The cooking here isn't pretentious and there were none of the flourishes and extras that we'd had the previous evening, but for the price this was a total bargain.

To drink, we had a bottle of rose Cremant de Bourgogne, and then a 1er cru red Ladoix which we gave an 8. It didn't wow us, confirming that this village isn't really in the top echelons of Burgundy. The total bill for four of us was about 150 euros, once again exceptional value.

After dinner, we strolled into the town centre which was lit with tasteful Christmas lights but spookily deserted. Beaune is certainly not the place to go if you're looking for some wild nightlife.