Happy New Year (and all about my love for Pol Roger)

It's the time to make some resolutions for 2018, and I'm going to keep mine realistic (and champagne based). This year will end and the next one begin with Pol Roger's vintage rose, which sits high on my list of favourite champagnes (because it's absolutely gorgeous).

I've specifically chosen it for tonight because the last few months have been punctuated by Pol Roger. I got to revisit the peerless Cuvée Winston Churchill at a tasting late in October (it's the champagne I celebrated moving into my flat with, and would choose for any occasion where price wasn't an object - it has incredible finesse and richness, and is the match of any other premier Cuvée I've yet tried).

We had the splendid non vintage for a family gathering at the end of November, their vintage (2006) for a Christmas Eve tradition (I meant to drink it for my birthday, but fell asleep before we got to it), and Pol Roger Pure on Christmas Day. This extra brut has no sweetening sugar added as dosage (because of geography champagnes grapes are naturally very high in acidity, sometimes so high that a little sugar is required to even them out, or to make a sweeter style - dosage) so it's a 'pure' expression of the grapes.

Despite the lack of sugar it's a surprisingly rich (and again, bloody gorgeous) champagne. This seems to have been achieved by very careful grape selection from chosen vineyards (the blend is a 3 way split between the 3 permitted grape varieties) and longer aging time which gives the acidity time to soften. Mine had been sitting quietly in a cupboard for a year or two as well, which hadn't hurt.

So my resolution for 2018 - finally try their blanc de blanc (100% Chardonnay) which I have inexplicably failed to do yet; Pol Roger tends to be a trade favourite, something we seek out in all it's forms - and share stories of when we're alone together (that last bit is sadly true), and their Demi sec (off dry). I feel these are realistic goals.

Meanwhile, the dog, who I am staying with for New Year, looks like she's resolving to spend more of 2018 on the sofa (where she isn't currently really allowed) her plans also appear to be getting off to a flying start.

Happy New Year!

Christmas Round Up

As ever, after the long months of build up to Christmas at work, the hectic and exhausting sprint through the last couple of weeks as we sell, sell, sell, and the all to brief few days off, it's hard to believe it's all over. About now I'm normally focused on a trip back to Scotland for New Year, a bit of family time, and general unwinding. Unfortunately we're no longer allowed to take holiday in the first week of January, I'm not happy about this for a few reasons (it makes it very difficult to get any time off with my partner for a start), but mostly it's the general unwinding.

I say this every year, but retail really sucks the joy out of Christmas. People can be horribly rude, but what really bothers me is the over consumption - we sold about 30 tons of booze in the week before Christmas, it's a lot of bottles and a lot of money. The chances are it's also a lot of over extending or outright debt - and for what (apart from keeping people like me in work)? I keep deleting the things I'm thinking here on the grounds that nobody wants an anti capitalism rant from someone who may well just have flogged them a bottle of very expensive champagne - but my current mood is exactly why I need some time off to regain a sense of perspective.

Meanwhile I was lucky enough to be given some generous and lovely gifts, including some excellent books, I have Christmas cake to look forward to every night I get home (it may well see me through to lent), the tree is still up and looking suitably jolly, and there's a lot to be grateful for.

I've mostly been rereading books that were childhood favourites (The Scarlet Pimpernel, and The Dark is Rising particularly) and enjoying them, and am making tentative reading plans for next year. My old years resolution should probably be to finish a couple of half read books before midnight on Sunday (I'm especially looking at you Zola...) There are also knitting plans, and other things to look forward to as life slips back into a less festive routine.

Traditional Fair Isle Knitting with Vintage Pol Roger

There's a quote from Lily Bollinger, that obvious marketing potential aside, sums up how I feel about champagne: “I drink Champagne when I'm happy and when I'm sad. Sometimes I drink it when I'm alone. When I have company I consider it obligatory. I trifle with it if I'm not hungry and drink it when I am. Otherwise, I never touch it -- unless I'm thirsty.”

Not that I drink quite that much Champagne (or anything like it) but it's always seemed a shame to keep it for special occasions. The better the bottle the bigger the shame - it deserves to be appreciated. My mother and I have a Christmas Eve tradition, when everything is done we open the best bottle I have, drink it, relax and talk - including about all the things we're planning.

It's a nice moment - everything is prepared for Christmas, the stress is more or less over for the year, and it's time to look forward. It's Pol Roger for us tonight, and a good hunt through Sheila McGregor's 'Traditional Fair Isle Knitting' to start working out a pattern for some boot toppers I'm meant to be knitting mum. Champagne is the perfect accompaniment for making plans of all sorts- big or small.

Quality matters with fizz, which isn't to say you need to spend a fortune on it, it's just not worth being mean about. The same goes for prosecco, cava, and so on (which are made with different grapes and are for another occasion). English sparkling wine goes from strength to strength - Ridgeview is my favourite widely available brand (I think it has the edge on Nyetimber, and it's often on offer for £20 or less) and it's a match for plenty of champagnes at twice the price. Lindauer special reserve from New Zealand is excellent, and relatively overlooked these days - it's hard to go wrong with New Zealand generally. Sparkling Burgandy is an excellent bet too.

Veuve Clicquot, Moët, Mumm, and Lanson are all fine, but better kept for a while after buying. In the old days wine merchants would keep champagne for at least 6 months before putting it on sale, they don't do that now so the chances are that it will taste quite 'green' and acidic if you open it directly after buying. Taittinger, Laurent Perrier, Perrier Jouet, and Louis Roederer are all widely available and excellent. Pol Roger is the best big brand for my money, Billecart Salmon when I can find it.

Non vintage champagne is blended to be consistent from year to year, and will happily keep somewhere cool, dark, and with an even temperature, for 3 - 5 years. Not the fridge though, keep fizz in the fridge to long and it loses its sparkle. It is arguably a better bet than vintage champagne.

Vintage Champagne reflects a specific year, with vintages only being declared after particularly good harvests. You can expect a richer, more characterful champagne and it's nice if the year has specific meaning for you. However the price tag is often almost double so if you're not particularly curious to see what the vintage is like, it's not neccesarilly worth spending the extra on it.

It's the same for things like Dom Perignon, Krug, and so on. They're amazing champagnes but they're only worth the money if you have it spare (though if anyone else is offering to buy than the answer is an unequivocal yes). Still, there's something very satisfying at the end of the busiest week of the work year to sit down with something that feels really decadent and just enjoy it.

Happy Christmas!

Ambrose Heath's Good Drinks with Burnt Coffee

I noticed the recipe for Burnt Coffee in 'Good Drinks' when I was looking for one for Lambswool the other day and thought it might be the perfect way to celebrate finishing work for Christmas. You have to set it alight which seemed a suitably cathartic action to match my end of the day mood. It was.

Burnt Coffee:
"Make some good strong coffee (obviously not instant, filter or cafetière would be most authentic for the 1939 date of the book), sweeten it rather more than usual (soft brown sugar for preference, and I'm assuming it's neccesary to help float the brandy), and pour into small cups. Pour a little brandy into each over a spoon, set light to it, and when the brandy is partly consumed, blow out the flame and drink the coffee at once.

I don't know if it was because I didn't add enough brandy, or possibly enough sugar, but the flame I got was a quick blue flicker across the top of the Coffee that was gone almost in an instant. It was both pretty and dramatic, without looking like it was going to burn out of control. The combination of strong slightly bitter Coffee, the fudgey nutty flavour of the sugar, and the decent Armagnac I used was perfect. Think of a slightly refined Irish coffee without the cream, not quite as sweet, and with brandy perfume rather than whiskey fire. I like Irish coffee when it's made well (with a bit of love, and good ingredients), I like this far more.

It's less fuss (floating the cream takes a bit of practice and technique), more elegant - it would make a good end to a dinner where you want something a little bit sweet and decadent but not an actual pudding - and that dancing blue flame provides a bit of theatre. It would be an excellent drink to go and watch stars with, or to come back in from the cold to, and it's obviously excellent with a book.

The question of who in literature would drink this is intriguing - I'm thinking of Elizabeth Von Arnim in her German Garden when she sets off in a sleigh for a moonlight picnic (I think I have the right book, it might be the sequel) or maybe someone in Somerset Maugham. But then I read the Foreword to 'Good Drinks':

"This collection of divers drinks is offered for all those occasions when drinking is desirable: on a winter's evening by the fire, on the shady verge of the tennis-court, at a party, in a pub, with friends, or acquaintances and those even dearer, wherever they may happen to be together: to the advancement of the brewer and the wine merchant, and the confusion of all dull dogs."

Heath is a delight; I've enjoyed all of his books that I've managed to find, but 'Good Drinks' most of all. I've spent quite a bit of time with it this year researching vintage cocktails, and of all the old drinks books I have it's my favourite. It's partly Heath's humour that I love so much about it, but more importantly it's that he includes a lot of soft drinks, and that this more than any of the others is designed for home use. It's a treasure trove of ideas which every kitchen should have.

It seemed fitting to raise my Burnt Coffee to Heath, who is an entirely desirable drinking companion, and friend - even if it is only in book form.

The Moonstone with a 15 year old Malmsey

For the first time in 8 years, and only the second time in the last 20 years, I won't be working in Christmas Eve. I can't tell you how excited I am by this. Today has been quite hard going at work (there doesn't seem to be a part of me that doesn't ache or have a bruise on it) tomorrow will be even more full on, knowing that I can stop at the end of it for 3 days will certainly help me keep it together.   The idea of a Christmas Day when I'm not overtired, and therefore over emotional and grumpy, is an almost dizzying prospect filled with potential. I'm even beginning to feel a little bit festive.

Following that festive feeling I tried mixing something called a Golden Hamper that Fortnum and Mason were advertising. It was a mix of Madeira, English Cassis, a whole egg, saffron, pepper, and nutmeg. It had a flavour that might well remind you of the interior of an old hamper, I couldn't recommend it.

Madeira on it's own is a much better idea. It's something I get even more excited about than not working on Christmas Eve. I read early in my wine career that Madeira under 15 years old isn't worth bothering with. On the whole it's a good rule of thumb, though it's sensible to keep a bottle of something more basic for cooking with.

The thing that makes Madeira so unique is the way it's made. Its heated (something you would never normally do to wine) to replicate what used to happen whilst it crossed the Atlantic to America. The result is a wine that doesn't change much after a bottle has been opened - which is also unusual, but makes it worth investing in the best quality bottles you can because they make the perfect occasional treat that can be hoarded for special occasions.

The older the Madeira the more complex it becomes. One of the biggest treats I've ever had was the chance to try some really old Madeiras at a D'Oliveiras tasting. Wines from 1905, 1922, and 1936 featured. They were incredible, I wish I'd had the money to buy them at the time. (Wines like this are not cheap, coming in at a few hundred pounds, but they're unique, wonderful, fascinating, and worth it).

The rather more modest bottle of Blandy's 15 year old Malmsey I have in front of me is still delicious. The best way I can describe it is as tasting like brown sugar, coffee, and nuts. It's beautifully balanced, soft, and lovely. It is the perfect wine to sip with a good book, it's also going to go very well with Christmas pudding, Madeira cake, or a nice bit of cheese.

The oxidised and cooked quality of Madeira gives it both an old fashioned and quite sophisticated flavour (like smelling Shalimar or Mitsouko) which make me feel it's best enjoyed with an equally classic book. I find the same freshness and complexity in Wilkie Collins, and am thinking of reading The Moonstone this weekend, so that's my choice for it. An eighteenth century book would be more authentic, because they were drinking far more of it then (there were diseases in the 19th century that interrupted production) but the complexity and opulence of this particular wine feels particularly right for Collins with all his sensationalist twists.

The Once and Future King with 'Lambswool'

I'm beginning to feel like I'm in a one woman mission to mull things this year (it's not something I'd thought of as habit forming before now, but so it is). Back in August I tried making a Dog's Nose (a mix of stout and gin) which I had assumed would be disgusting. It was not, and since then I've been more open minded about the idea of hot beer based drinks.

Yesterday's Wassail bowl shouldn't really be scaled down, the whole idea of it is that it's for sharing - and if I'm honest I'm still not convinced by the toast element, it sounds messy. Whilst I was reading about Wassail though, I saw a few references to Lambswool, and I have various recipes for that too. It's a mix of ale and apples, which sounded about as appealing as the Dog's Nose - but I was wrong about that so...

Lambswool seems to be another version of Wassail bowl, and was traditionally drunk on 12th night, Regula Ysewijn has written an excellent piece about it Here. My guess is that it's origins are very old indeed, and I particularly like the mix of everyday ingredients (ale, and the last of the autumns apples) with the more luxurious sugar, ground ginger, and nutmeg.

All those ingredients are common place today, but the need to bake the apples first and the time that takes, still makes this a relative luxury in a busy life. My recipe is adapted from the one in Ambrose Heath's (increasingly indispensable) 'Good Drinks' and has been shrunk to make just enough for 2.

Core 3 apples, (we used 3 Braeburn sized eating apples that weren't to sweet, left over from a bag a friend gave me in the autumn, they were going a bit soft and on the verge of being thrown out - but that fits with the idea of using up the last of the fruit before it goes off that Ysewijn talks about), slit round the middle and bake in an oven until good and soft. Scrape the apple out of its skins and purée it, stick it into a pan. Add a bottle of ale (I don't think you need to be too specific about sort) and season with grated nutmeg, and ground ginger. Sweeten with sugar to taste and gently warm it, giving it a good stir for the flavours to blend. Check to see if you need more sugar or spice, and then serve. It's excellent. The trouble is minimal, but waiting for the apples means you can't knock it up in 5 minutes, unless you happen to have some apple sauce lying around.

Such an old drink feels like it wants something that nods to its history. I looked at The Mabinogion and  Le Morte Darthur  (The Dark is Rising' has left me wanting to read something Celtic or Arthurian or I might have followed a different route, it's also a drink that speaks of the countryside, apple orchards, and the changing seasons). I thought about Beowulf (wrong mood altogether) and remembered that I still haven't got a copy of 'Sir Gawain and the Green Knight' (either the Simon Armitage, or Bernard O'Donoghue, versions - a terrible oversight). None felt quite right, and then I remembered T. H. White's 'The Once and Future King' which did. It also feels like a good choice to be reading on midwinters day - so that's what I'm off to do.

The Dark is Rising with a Wassail bowl

An omnibus edition of 'The Dark is Rising Sequence' was my Christmas present in 1984 (when I had just turned 11, the same age as Will Stanton in the book). I was just growing out of Enid Blyton books and beginning to discover what my wider reading tastes might be, I clearly recall not being very impressed with the look of this book, starting it as a duty rather than with any real enthusiasm, and then loving it, almost, but not quite, to bits.

I still have that very battered copy, and have just re read 'The Dark is Rising' (the second book in the sequence) as part of the #thedarkisreading read along on Twitter (more Here). The book starts on Mid Winters eve (tonight) and finishes on 12th night. It's been a while since I'd read it, so I was a little bit nervous about the book I'd find - would it still have enough magic to raise the same enthusiasm my much younger self felt.

More or less, yes it does. 'The Dark is Rising' was first published in 1973, so apart from the specific geography the everyday world it describes was still familiar in 1984. 30+ years down the line the past is just beginning to slip into another country. What I really noticed though is how much time Susan Cooper spends talking about ritual and tradition, and how important it is to the way that Christmas is kept.

There is something about the way that the Stanton family Christmas is framed by these traditions - Christmas tree on Christmas Eve, a Yule log, Carol singing finishing with punch at the village manor, stockings (in actual old socks, and full of nuts, possibly a tangerine in the toe, and small things - just as I remember them) and the excitement of waking up to feel the weight of them at the end of the bed, church, and all the other things that fall into a familiar pattern. They ground the fantasy elements of the book both in an everyday reality, but also the lingering sense of magic the season brings (even to cynical adults).

All of those traditions are designed to keep the literal midwinter dark at bay. Near the start of the book there's a blizzard raging outside, buffeting the Stanton's house, and feeding a growing sense of unease in Will. It vividly recalls the vicious winter storms in Shetland, where even the most solid houses would feel like they were shaking, and there would be moments of disquiet - would the storm get in? It must be a fear as old as humanity, and the way that Cooper uses it is what makes this book so special to me.

The internet tells me that Wassailing and wassail bowls are becoming a thing again (at least in Bristol and Hackney), there seem to be two slightly different traditions, one specific to apple trees, where the drink is to encourage a good harvest the following year, and offerings are made to them. The other sounds like a cross between Carol singing and trick or treating - and a little bit like the Shetland tradition of guising.

I've never tried wassail, much less tried making it (it's the toast that puts me off), a bit of research suggests that it's evolved a lot and that there would have been considerable variation dependant on area, and resources, this recipe is from Ambrose Heath's good drinks so is twentieth century. My guess is that Will's parents must have been born in the late 1920's/early 1930's, so this is the wassail they would know. It might also be close to the sort of punch served at the manor when the Stanton children go Carol singing.

Wassail Bowl
To a quart of hot Ale add a quarter of an ounce each of grated nutmeg, powdered ginger, and cinnamon, half a bottle of Sherry, two slices of toast, the juice and peel of a lemon, and two baked apples. Sweeten to taste.

If you plan on serenading an apple tree, use cider.

Rough Spirits and High Society with Warner Edwards Honey Gin

I had meant to write properly about Ruth Ball's 'Rough Spirits and High Society: The Culture of Drink' weeks ago, but things have a habit of getting in the way of good intentions, there will be more about this book in due course.

I loved Ruth Ball's first book 'Rebellious Spirits' for its mix of enthusiasm and erudition (reading it was the initial inspiration for posting book and drinks matches) so a second book from her about drinking history was always going to be something to get excited about. This one is published by the British Library and has an absolute treasure trove of pictures to illustrate our historical relationship with drinking - this includes the impact that coffee houses, and tea, along with the public spaces in which they're consumed in have had on our culture too. It's a brilliant book which would make a great present for anyone with a passing interest in food, drink, or history.

I'm matching it with Warner Edwards Honey gin because the history of gin consumption in Britain is interesting (there's an excellent short history in the book). In the eighteenth century it was a craze that threatened public order, the Victorian gin palace changed our expectations of what a pub looked like, and it's place in cocktail history. There is also the current gin craze, which shows no signs of diminishing just yet, and which continues to challenge old ideas of what gin is and how it might be drunk.

That's where Warner Edwards come in. They're one of the new wave of small distilleries, and I think they're one of the more interesting. Based on Falls farm in Harrington (just over the border into Northamptonshire) their usp is all about the provenance of the product. All of their gins, and there are 6 of them now, are excellent starting with the Harrington dry and going through Sloe, elderflower, rhubarb, Mellisa, and now Honey gin.

There might be better gins out there (it's a big and ever growing field) but not that many. The current packaging is extremely handsome (a detail, but if you're paying more than £30 a bottle you want the product to look damn good), but it's the flavours that make these gins really interesting. The honey gin has a gentle sweetness to it, which is in no way overpowering. It makes a great gin and tonic, and a very good martini. I haven't yet made a Bees Knees with it, but I will. There are more suggestions Here. It's the perfect gin to go with if you want something unusual and distinctive, but not too outlandish. It's also a great example of the next chapter in the story of both gin, and our relationship with spirits generally, which is why I think it's the perfect thing to crack open with book.

A Hero of Our Time with 'Orange Wine'

This is the book that single handedly changed all my prejudices about classic Russian literature. Before I read this (because it was short and I thought I'd have one last crack at trying to appreciate something Russian) everything I'd ever looked at seemed both impossibly long and desperately depressing.

Mikhail Lermontov's masterpiece is not to long, and whilst it's not notably cheerful, there are flashes of humour in it which balance the inevitably gloomy outcome. There's also a few mentions of food - which I particularly noticed because I was reading it at the same time as Caroline Eden and Eleanor Ford's 'Samarkand' came out. The first section of 'A Hero of Our Time' is also set in the Caucasus so there was a sense of serendipity as the two came together.

Georgian wine is both legendary, and yet something of a well kept secret in the U.K (it is probably less of a secret in London). It's one of the oldest wine producing regions in the world, and what wines they are. Waitrose lists one red online which is excellent (I mean seriously excellent and well worth the price tag), Marks and Spencer's sells at least one Orange wine (Tbilvino Qvevris) which can be found in larger branches,p. For more choice this is the information that Georgian Wine U.K Has.

I've chosen the Tbilvino both because it's the easiest to get hold of (at least I can buy it locally, although judging by the dust on the bottles I picked up in M&S not many others are) and because of it's now almost unique method of production. This is an amphora wine. The grapes, skins and all, are fermented in large clay amphora which are buried in the ground. This is what gives them their unique orange colour, and style.

This one has notes of quince and Apple, is a richly impressive wine, and very good with tagine - I think it would also stand up to Maxim Maximych's pheasant recipe too.

Finding wines like this are what makes my job exciting. It's the variety of wine, and the never ending chances to learn something new, which make it such a fascinating rabbit hole to tumble into. It's much easier to write about spirits where there is less temptation to give over completely to hyperbole,  or to come up with something which reads like very bad teenage poetry. Maybe it's because spirits, once bottled, are static things, whereas wine continues to develop in the bottle - it's a living thing, and when the opportunity comes along to combine wine, food, and beloved books (favourite things right there)... Well it is exciting, because each element brings a bit more context to the others, and each becomes more memorable.

After Supper Ghost Stories with Hot Cider Punch

My flat is currently in a state of pre Christmas chaos (so much as it always is, but with cards hiding books, a fine layer of glitter over everything making me worry about micro plastics and, fairy lights). I have hunted high and low for Jerome K. Jerome's ''After Supper Ghost Stories', which I know I saw recently, but cannot currently put my hand to.

It's annoying me because I know everyone gets roaring drunk in the main story, but I can't remember what they were drinking (I think there's a list) and I'd like to know. I'd also quite like to read it again generally. I was a little bit disappointed by this book first time around because it wasn't all ghost stories, after dinner or otherwise. That wouldn't really matter, but that the 'ghost story' bit is so very good that I wanted more of the same rather than Jerome's general observations (although also funny).

We have rather lost the tradition of telling ghost stories on Christmas Eve, which is a shame, especially when they're more funny than frightening. In this case there's much talk of murdering Carol singers that I'm sure anyone ever subjected to bad carol singing will feel some sympathy with. I ended up reading most of this to assembled family last year (not on purpose, but they kept asking what I was laughing at) which makes me think it would make a great party piece.

I don't recommend getting as drunk as Jerome's characters do, the resulting hangover would be a terrible way to spend Christmas Day, and would probably see you into the new year, but for the purposes of a family gathering, with or without ghost stories, hot punches or mulled drinks are a very good idea.

This cider one is low enough in alcohol to be fairly benign, and can be scaled up or down. Start with enough cider to go around (not very precise I know, but it depends on how many people there are) and stick it in a pan to warm it through, add a couple of cinnamon sticks, some cloves (3-6 depending on how much you're making should be plenty) star anise, and a good grating of nutmeg, bring up to simmering point and keep just below boiling. At this point you want to add some fruit juice, and there are options. I've seen pineapple, cranberry, and orange all being touted. I'd go with a mix of pineapple and cranberry, but it's a matter of personal taste. If you use pineapple you probably won't need to add any more sugar, but taste, adjust to suit, and keep on the heat for 10 minutes or so, stirring occasionally, until everything has infused nicely together. Drink.

The other good thing about this is that it's just as good made with apple juice instead of cider for an entirely alcohol free, child friendly, version.