Pasta, English asparagus and Greek white wine, Domaine Gerovassiliou Malagousia 2009

Pasta with English asparagus (from Leeds' Kirkgate Market), some other veg, a slosh of white wine, olive oil, garlic and basil. Stirred through with a cheeky slice of butter (I'm not a purist) and served with a fresh white wine from Greece - the one that was thrown in with the pasta.

Nice to drink something that isn't an 'international' variety: this is made from the ancient Malagousia grape, its freshness zinging from the glass, as vibrant as a clear blue sea beneath old white-washed houses.

It won a Decanter Gold Medal and was awarded Best Value White Wine of the Year by the Wine Gang.

Funny how your eating and drinking habits change with the weather. Spring has arrived.

Domaine Gerovassiliou Malagousia 2009, Laithwaites, currently £8.99 a bottle reduced from £13.99

My Wedding Day

I got married! Which is why I've been a bit absent from here lately, but I'm back now.

An amazing day, shared with our loved ones. We won't forget it.

To cap it all off, we were extremely lucky to have some very talented people on hand to make it even more special…

We genuinely felt privileged to have Luke Downing (of the exceptional Dough Bistro) creating our food. Slow-cooked Yorkshire short-horn beef and New Moon (Leeds) ale stew, with roast potatoes and Yorkshire Blue cheese, was as sublime as it sounds. As was the non-meat option: vegetables in Woodlesford (Leeds) white wine, coriander and tomatoes, with wild rocket and parmesan. Again, fantastic. And later an amazing evening buffet… all despite the non-existent kitchen facilities at our (nevertheless beautiful) venue.

My eldest brother Matthew brought a couple of kegs of fantastic beer he'd brewed especially for our wedding: a pilsner and an ale. Much as the words evening buffet don't adequately describe Luke's creations, the term homebrew goes nowhere near describing Matthew's beers. Really brilliant; craft ales of a commercial standard, but brewed especially for us on our big day. Extra special. 

For our sparkling wine we went for Roche Lacour 2007 from Limoux in the south of France (from Laithwaites). Made in the traditional champagne method but without the razzmatazz of the champagne name. Gorgeous stuff.

With the meal, our red wine was Capucine, Les Ollieux from Corbieres in the south of France; the white was the Naked Grape Riesling from the Pfalz in Germany.

Also a special word for our brilliant photographer Mark Tattersall, who crafted incredible images despite the piercing light and crazy winds; and also our DJ Ossie - who provided a memorable end to the night, after a very memorable day.

Beer Ritz Is Back!

Great news for beer fans in Leeds and beyond - Beer Ritz is back from the dead!

Zak Avery announced on twitter today that the store is open once again, having closed its doors last week seemingly for good. Here's hoping this gem in Far Headingley is here to stay.

The Leeds skies are lit up with long-awaited sunshine, Easter is coming, Pulp are headliners at this year's Leeds Music Festival; the season of rebirth. Welcome back Beer Ritz.

Watch Your Language

Language is a funny thing. I mentioned in a recent blog post how the word chav has entered English in recent years. Who first said the word? Where did it come from?

Language constantly changes - words go in and out of fashion, new words appear, existing words change their meaning. If we get annoyed by this we're kind of missing the point - after all, if language never evolved, we'd still all be talking like cavemen. Or talking like whoever came before the cavemen. Cavemen were probably saying the same thing.

In the late-90s I think, we had the rise, literally, of the so-called Australian inflection - the thing where people raise the intonation in their voice at the end of a sentence, even when it's not a question. That was apparently due to the popularity of Australian and American TV dramas.

And remember the Chilean miners' crisis a few months ago? As well as thinking about what a truly horrific experience it must have been for the miners, I was also left confused as to why the newsreaders started saying Chill-ay-an halfway through, instead of Chill-ee-an. Who gave the order?

Remember Slob-o-dan Milosevic? Now he's Sl'bodan. And Benjamin Netanyahu? He's Bin-yam-een. Then Haiti's capital Port-au-Prance became Port-au-Prince - and back again. They never decided on that one. Self-promoting was then renamed social networking, around the time people stopped saying Hi and said Hey instead.

Margaret Thatcher made a speech as prime minister back in the 1980s when she said: "There is no such thing as society; there are individual men and women, and there are families." It's now twenty-odd years later, and the same philosophy has been rebranded as the big society. From no such thing, to big! Language is a funny thing.

A sad week for Leeds drinkers: Beer Ritz and Oddbins close their doors for the last time

It's a sad week for beer and wine drinkers in Leeds. First of all, the news came that two of the city's four Oddbins shops – Albion Street and Headingley – are among the 39 Oddbins stores around the UK being closed down (the Chapel Allerton and Street Lane stores are apparently remaining open). And then came the completely unexpected news today that specialist beer shop Beer Ritz, managed by beer writer Zak Avery, has ceased trading. In fact the term 'ceased trading' doesn't do it justice. Beer Ritz is something of a legend, with an incredible range of beers and truly knowledgeable staff: time has been called at a party no-one wanted to end.

Oddbins in general has come in for a lot of flak over recent years, with several wine writers pointing the finger in particular at the chain's previous owner, French company Castel (which bought Oddbins in 2002 and sold it three years ago), for presiding over its downfall. Writing in the Observer back in July 2008, Tim Atkin called Castel's ownership of Oddbins "a disaster". He said: "Most of the good buyers have left, the range has been reduced, prices have increased and many of the famously enthusiastic, over-qualified shop managers have set up on their own or moved to other companies. There are still good people at Oddbins - not least the two remaining English wine buyers - but the business is a mess."

From personal experience, I'd like to reiterate: there are still good people at Oddbins. As a relatively regular shopper at the Albion Street branch, I can say the team there are absolutely superb: full of enthusiasm, taking pride in what they're doing, keen to engage with customers, knowledgeable. But… the range in the store was at times patchy, and pricing has been a problem. Offering 20% off if you buy six wines gives the impression (true or not) that you're paying over the odds for a single bottle, and that's a major problem for city centre stores aiming to attract regular one and two-bottle purchases. And it has to be said the growing empire of supermarkets over the past decade or two must also have been a huge problem for stores like Oddbins. We're all buying everything in supermarkets and online. Why take a detour to a wine shop when you can lob in a couple of buy-one-get-one-frees into your supermarket trolley, along with every other consumer product you might ever need, on your weekly shop? We're giving a bottle of wine the same amount of respect as a ready meal.

With Oddbins, if Atkin and others are right then it's the same old story of mismanagement at the top resulting in pain for those on the shop floor. Those who've been doing a fine job, especially given the difficult circumstances, are the ones who are now losing their jobs. A theme of our times. And it's more than their jobs. You only have to read this account from a member of the team at Beer Ritz to realise that. You only have to speak to a member of staff at Oddbins in Leeds city centre to realise it: they care about what they do.

There seems to be a big appetite for high-quality, interesting and varied drinks in Leeds, and there are several very good independent bars and local breweries. You'd think that a specialist drinks shop should thrive in the city. You just have to hope that independents like Latitude can find a formula for continued success. Because other than them, in the city centre we only really have Gerry's Wines & Spirits, Harvey Nichols and M&S with dedicated alcohol sections offering more than the usual suspects.

In the meantime, the staff from Beer Ritz and Oddbins should get together over a beer at North Bar, form a dream team and open a new wine and beer store of which Leeds can be proud. Because a future of supermarkets and the internet, and little else, is not an appealing one.

Monkey Poo Coffee! Philippine Alamid Kopi Luwak (£14.99/50g, Sea Island Coffee)

I was sent a sample of this famous (notorious?!) coffee recently. It's the stuff that gets eaten by monkey or raccoon-type creatures called civets - a relative of the mongoose - who like the sweet taste of the berries. It then ferments in their stomach juices where it's partially digested, they poo it out, and then it's gathered up from their poo on the jungle floor, washed (the packaging stresses thoroughly, thank god) and dried, before being roasted as normal.

Jack Nicholson drinks this stuff in the film The Bucket List, in which he and his friend (Morgan Freeman) are both terminally ill and they go on a road trip armed with a list of experiences to try before they die.

It's not cheap at all, but it's a nice coffee, and good for novelty value. I tried the pre-ground stuff and prepared it simply in a cafetiere. A subtle, slightly smoky aroma and a fairly earthy flavour (which I suppose you might expect!), it reminded me of some Ethiopian (non-monkey poo) coffee I had recently at Opposite in Leeds' Victoria Quarter. That was quite light-bodied, almost like a cross between tea and coffee, and probably best drunk without milk to get the subtle aromas.

Philippine Alamid Kopi Luwak

£14.99/50g

www.seaislandcoffee.com

Chavs: Scum or Scapegoats?

Nothing to do with food or wine this, just something interesting I've noticed lately - how the word chav has increasingly entered common speech. Not just among schoolkids, but among adults who put themselves across as otherwise intelligent, broad-minded people. It's used on social media, in blogs, on twitter. And I wondered, why is there something about the word that doesn't sit quite right? When someone who's quite well-off uses the word, why does it seem just a bit unpleasant? Is it an acceptable word to use or not? Is it just harmless snobbery, if there is such a thing, or is it something more nasty? And then I noticed there's a book coming out later this year entitled 'Chavs: The Demonisation of the Working Class'. So, is chav-bashing the demonisation of the working class?

The joke seems to be: chavs are unemployed, or at least poor, lacking in class, and they all dress the same, and eat and drink the same things (as if the middle classes don't); they don't have much money or taste. That seems to be the joke. You read stuff on twitter along the lines of, "Ha ha, I just saw someone in a tracksuit who hasn't got a job like I've got, they don't do the civilised things I do, what a loser." The Top Gear school of satire.

Maybe using the word is a bit of a giveaway of your own politics. You're skating over the fact that the person in the tracksuit might not have enjoyed the same upbringing, the same life chances, you had. An insult for our 1980s-style times. Previously it was the Irish, blacks, gays, more recently asylum seekers and Muslims, now it's chavs.

Perhaps when we hear the word chav in 20 years' time, we might cringe a bit, like when we see a clip from a 1970s sitcom and the middle class characters are spouting casual racism about their next-door neighbours.

Or is it not so bad? Is it a harmless nickname for people who are lazy, antisocial, aggressive, uncivilised? Perhaps also it depends how you use the word?

But even if you say you're using the word against a certain type of person who doesn't work and doesn't apparently contribute much to society – isn't that still a bit nasty? Are you naturally morally superior to them? If you'd had their opportunities, their school life, been born to their parents, had their home life, done their jobs… who would you be?

A Trip to Aldi: Ramon Lopez Murillo Rioja Reserva 2005 (£5.99) and Finchley's Ales Golden Pale Ale

A trip to B&Q on a Saturday afternoon - who could resist calling into Aldi next-door and taking a look around its random selection of goods? Especially its alcohol section, with bizarre looking bottles of Grappa from holidays past and intriguing cans of 'premium lager'.

I came away with a bottle of Rioja, a bottle of Aldi's own Golden Pale Ale and a bottle of Wychcraft Blonde Beer. So all in all I was quite restrained. I've had the Wychcraft Blonde before, so I was more interested to try the wine and the pale ale.

I found the pale ale a bit of a strange one, with a bittersweet flavour and an aftertaste that I personally didn't enjoy. It actually reminds me of Desperados a bit, which isn't a brilliant thing for me - I realise Desperados has a bit of a cult following (it's a beer flavoured with tequila and other stuff like citric acid and sugar) but it's not one of my guilty pleasures. And I was expecting a pale ale, not an alcopop/beer hybrid.

But I've enjoyed the Rioja. I suppose £6 isn't the absolute cheapest of cheapsville - there were one or two bottles of red around the £3 mark in Aldi - but you still might not expect great things. But it's nice. Perhaps it helps that for some unknown reason I've not had a Rioja for a while, so maybe I'm more forgiving because I was ready for one. But there's a pleasant nose of cherries, plums and rosemary, with a thin twist of sweet cigar smoke. That's followed up by more cherries and herbs in the mouth, with a good acidity that keep things fresh. A decent and very easy drinking glass of wine. And a nice softness to it that you only get from an aged wine that's had the chance to grow into its own skin.

St Hallett Barossa Riesling 2009 (£4, Co-op)

This is a real bargain.

Flinty on the nose, minerals, rocks baking in sunlight. In the mouth, sherbert lemons and pear drops minus the sickly sweetness, with a waxy edge. A shaving of coconut on the finish.

Grown-up traditional lemonade. An early evening refresher, sweeping away the cobwebs of the day. At this price, snap it up.

Monte La Sarda Garnacha 2009 (£7.49, Oddbins)

This is a really, really good wine for the price, from Bajo Aragón in Spain, on the outskirts of Zaragoza. I don't know what Oz Clarke thinks of it, but I strongly suspect he'd be a big fan, given that he loves the upfront crunchy fruit flavours of a good Spanish garnacha. This one's got an almost chewy texture, lovely liquoricey undertones and the flavour just lingers in the mouth.

With wine tasting notes, you can often find that the points of reference are the kinds of things you've never actually tasted. Rose petals, violets, sweaty saddles, petrol, pithy citrus fruits from the rolling Tuscan hills. Well, this garnacha reminded me of black jacks. And I say that as a compliment - it's bloody lovely stuff. But it made me think of those dark, sticky sweets that stuck to your back teeth in the 80s.

It's worth noting this wine's even better value if you buy a case of six from Oddbins (the case can be mixed) - it's then just £5.99 a bottle. I think you'd do well to fine a better sub-£6 wine.

As Oz himself said of Spanish garnacha: "You don't talk about [it] - you just say bloody hell that's good... let's have some more!"

Monte La Sarda 2009, Spain

Oddbins

£7.49 (£5.99 when you buy six)

A Salty German and a Tasty Argentinean

Argentinian, or Argentinean? Who knows. Not Argentine though I don't think, somehow has a bit of a jolly hockey sticks, British Empire, Major-from-Fawlty Towers ring to it. But I'd happily be corrected - answers on a postcard. Anyway a couple of very nice - and affordable - wines this week, both worthy of mention.

 

 First of all, The Naked Grape Riesling 2009, from Pfalz in Germany. Really clean and fresh, slightly salty like a cool sea breeze. I had it with a simple bowl of pasta, stirred through with flakes of smoked trout, a sliced fat clove of garlic, some fresh chilli and a good glug of olive oil. It went together nicely, although I reckon it'd be even better for washing down some really good fish and chips at the seaside, somewhere like Whitby. The zingy saltiness of the slightly off-dry wine mingling with the seaside tastes and smells. Maybe not in this weather though.

Whitby © bbc.co.uk

The riesling was earlier in the week. Tonight fancied a red, and we'd stuck a pizza in the oven, so I reached for this Santa Julia Bonarda Sangiovese 2009, from Mendoza in Argentina. Bonarda and Sangiovese are originally Italian grape varieties, so there's a good fresh acidity to it that you often get in Italian reds, with notes of lighter fruits like strawberries and cherries, but complemented by a little bit of South American oomph and a slight pepperiness to the aroma. A good bridge between Old World and New. Not overly complex, but a really moreish wine, and with a relatively low 13.5%abv (for a New World red) and it's very food-friendly too. Recommended.

I bought both of these wines from Waitrose: the Naked Grape is currently on offer for a bargain £5.69 and I think the Santa Julia is also a very good buy at the slightly random price of £7.11.

Oz Clarke on Robert Parker: "I do basically like the bloke"

© ozclarke.com

I couldn't resist asking Oz Clarke for his thoughts on Robert Parker, the American wine writer often referred to as the most powerful critic in the world. Parker is famous for his 100-point rating system, with a high Parker rating worth millions in sales to Bordeaux winemakers. A number of British wine writers, even those who deploy their own rating systems, have criticised Parker for the way he operates, in particular for apparently favouring a certain style of wine (big and full-flavoured), leading to the so-called Parkerisation of wines. Some have also questioned how he goes about tasting the wines and decides on his scores, with the suggestion that tasting some in the company of winemakers at their wineries is not necessarily conducive to objectivity. But then again – to play devil's advocate – all wine journalists go on press trips to wineries, and who knows how much those trips influence their judgments, either consciously or subconsciously?

I put it to Oz Clarke that Parker comes in for a lot of criticism from British wine critics. "Yes he does, but he asks for it, that's the trouble," Oz said. "Because he's so bloody rude to Brits all the time… and I can't understand… I've known Robert for donkeys' years, you know, we were quite good mates in the old days and we still would be if we ever saw each other, but he's too busy marking wines. You know we used to go out drinking and go to jazz clubs and drink beer, and I don't know whether we chased women together, perhaps not, but I certainly felt as though I did.

© erobertparker.com

"And you know, we had a really good time together. And I used to taste with him on his panels. And I just think poor old Robert's got, you know... when you're so powerful and so successful sometimes you lose slight touch with reality - or you don't, but all the people around you do. And I think he's got an awful lot of people… you know, some of the people around him are very good - people like Neal who's the English guy who works with him, but some of the people around him, you think, did you really want those people saying 'I'm the voice of Robert Parker'? Because I like Neal and Neal's a good taster and he does a good job in Robert's name as well as in his own name - he's not in any way a sort of sycophant for Robert Parker - he went out on his own and said this is what I think, completely different to Parker some of the time. But… basically I just think Parker… he's more powerful than anyone should be, but I do basically like the bloke and I do basically... I enjoy his tasting because I understand it, so I know what he's tasting, I know the stuff he likes, I know why he likes these kind of wines."

By "these kind of wines", does Oz mean Parker does favour the full-flavoured, what you might call fruit bomb style? "Well yeah, yes he does. But on the other hand I can interpret that now. Even now if I had to choose somebody and say, let's see what another critic says, I would probably think let's see what Parker says. Not because I'd necessarily agree with him, but because I know how Parker thinks and for me that's important to know how the guy thinks."

Oz Clarke: "If you're in a bad mood, it's really tough to taste red wine"

I got to interview Oz Clarke recently because he was coming up to Yorkshire for the Love Cooking food festival. It was absolutely brilliant having the chance to talk to him about wine - and he clearly still has so much passion for the stuff. I got his views on a number of interesting subjects: the best cheap wines; Robert Parker; his Christmas wine recommendations; his views on rating wines out of 100. We chatted about so many interesting subjects that I'm going to split this up into a couple of blog posts, otherwise this one would end up being ridiculously long.

What absolutely shone through is his passion, and without any hint of snobbery. That's partly why he's become such a successful wine writer and TV personality, I think - as wine writers develop their expertise, it must be very easy to lose sight of the fact that their job is to speak to consumers, not to each other. Oz very much speaks to consumers - he obviously gets to taste the very best wines in the world, and yet he is still able to enjoy a good supermarket wine. He appreciates there's a time and a place for both.

One thing that also came through quite strongly as we chatted was his love of a good drink that's packed full of flavour. I think sauvignon blanc was the grape he happened to mention more often than any other, and he also spoke with great passion about the bold crunchy fruit of Spanish garnacha, especially in the context of Christmas. As Oz himself put it: "The kind of stuff you slap into a glass and say 'here fellas let's have a glass of this' as against sitting around quietly and pouring out the Bordeaux and thinking, hey, let's talk about this. The garnacha you don't talk about, you just say bloody hell that's good, basically, let's have some more!"

Having said that, he did say red Bordeaux probably provides his greatest pleasure in the world of wine, when the mood takes him: "If I was rather more contemplative, quiet, you know mellow, wintry kind of mood actually; in December I'll be in a red Bordeaux mood."

I couldn't resist asking Oz about the scoring of wines - be it on a 20-point or 100-point scale, say - because it's one aspect of wine criticism that I sometimes find a bit daft. As much as I have great respect for professional wine writers' knowledge, giving an experience as romantic and subjective as a glass of wine a rating out of 100 seems both unwanted and misleading. Can you really be so specific? What does Oz think about critics publicly rating wines? "If that's how they wanna do it, let them, I mean, I just think it's all… it's not bollocks, because… I can mark a wine 89 or 90 or 91, I just don't wanna publish it. I might do that to help me over a range of 50 wines, thinking is that one just a bit better than that one, but I don't wanna put that down in black and white for the audience, I wanna sort of try and tell them why I like the stuff. Engage them."

 

And surely context affects the rating given to a wine? "Yes. Absolutely right. The idea of the context - a couple of points up, a couple of points down, with context. You can taste differently. Are you happy, are you sad, are you in love, are you out of love, you know, have you had an argument with your girlfriend, did you get out of bed the wrong side, is your mum playing up? All of these things change, you know. Especially with red wine - if you're in a bad mood it's really tough to taste red wine. You know, your mouth can taste bitter and dry and the wine tastes bitter and dry."

So is it better to opt for a fresh white wine in that case? "Yeah... or basically give up for the day and go to the pub, have a beer. That'll calm you down and you can go and do some red wine tasting." 

The original Leeds Guide piece can be read here.

Which major wine region or country could you do without? For ever?

The wine writer Tim Atkin caused a bit of a stir this week by asking on Twitter and Facebook: "If you had to choose, which major wine region or country could you do without? For ever." Almost one hundred people voted (and an unspecified number of people were offended).

It was obviously all a bit tongue-in-cheek: clearly no true wine lover would ever willingly close themselves off from any region or country through choice. But it's an interesting thing to think about.

Reluctantly, I originally opted for the USA, purely on cost grounds. I've really enjoyed many of the American wines I've tried, it's just that here in the UK good American wines generally cost more than good wines from other countries. Tim Atkin himself makes the same point here.

But then I thought again, and I changed my mind. I just instinctively feel like there are lots of American wines I'm yet to try, and that I'd really like to try. Maybe it's because of the film Sideways romanticising the vineyards of California in my mind. But there are plenty of high-quality American pinots, cabernets and (the much-maligned) zinfandels out there, not just from California but also increasingly from places like Washington state.

So I opted for Germany. I can say now that no professional wine writers will have chosen Germany. Or I'll be surprised if they did. I may be wrong, but many professional wine writers in the 70s and 80s probably wouldn't have been seen dead championing German wines, but they are in fashion again now among those in the know. As with many things, as they became less popular among the general public, they became more popular among enthusiasts. Sharp rieslings and, increasingly I think light reds like pinot noirs, have found favour of late. But if pushed, I personally could (reluctantly) do without these. A shame, as I've not really explored the world of German wine yet, but there are plenty of countries producing interesting whites and lighter reds that I could turn to. And I have to be honest, I don't really buy German wine. Perhaps that's something that should change.

It doesn't come naturally to rule out any country's wines. Perhaps it would be a nice exercise for everyone who took part to buy a nice bottle from the country they gave as their answer. I'll do that myself with Germany, to prove it was nothing personal.

And a positive from all this is that it reminds you about the great wealth of choice we now have as wine drinkers. There's never been a better time as a consumer to go into a wine shop and take your pick.

In case you were wondering, the USA and Bordeaux were the winners (losers?) in Tim Atkin's poll. Controversial eh. At least if nothing else it's a fair old world-new world split.

As an aside, I thought it was interesting that Chile was a popular choice as the country people could do without, especially seemingly among wine writers or those who spend a bit more on their wine. Personally, I'd never have chosen Chile. Great value wines if you're spending up to a tenner, and a country I think will only offer even more exciting wines in future (like most of the new world). I can see that if you tend to spend £20 or more on a bottle, you might not usually buy Chilean. But also perhaps Chile and Germany are two sides of the same coin in the sense of what's fashionable, with enthusiasts seeking to differentiate themselves from the rest.

Which country's or region's wines could you do without?

Waitrose Wine 25% Discount: What's In Your Basket?

Waitrose is currently offering 25% off all cases of wine, when you buy twelve bottles online or six in store. I've placed my order, but if you want some you'll have to act fast, as the offer ends at midnight on 10th November. Having said that, a supermarket wine price war (a great tabloid phrase) seems to be underway, with several running similar offers.

Which Waitrose wines are on their way to me? I've gone for eight new world and four old, with a bias towards fairly big, warming reds (but not overblown alco-fruit bombs) for the cold weeks ahead. A few of the highlights include a bottle of SC Pannell Shiraz/Grenache 2004 from Australia's McLaren Vale; three malbecs from Argentina, including a bottle of Colomé Estate 2008 from Salta and a bottle of Catena 2008 from Mendoza; a Prominent Hill Single Vineyard Shiraz 2007 from Adelaide Hills; a bottle of Altano 2008 from Douro, Portugal - a potential snip at £4.86; a Planeta Cerasuolo di Vittoria 2008 from Sicily, and a bottle of the iconic FMC Chenin Blanc.