Wine
Deep Burgundy
‘There lies the dearest freshness deep down things’ — and also the dearest Frenchness. It is easy to be rude…
The Spectator’s Notes
It is natural to assume that, if a majority votes No in the referendum on Britain’s EU membership, we shall…
The claret of the gods
I cannot remember a jollier lunch. There are two brothers, Sebastian and Nicholas Payne, both practical epicureans. They have made…
Spawn of the devil
There are those who claim that this column is idiosyncratic. They have seen nothing yet. I am about to mention…
Wine tasting
One of the great jokes of the wine trade is: ‘Have you ever confused Burgundy with Bordeaux?’ ‘Not since this…
A taste of heaven on earth
The supermarket chains are not always blameworthy. Their missionary efforts have helped to ensure that wine drinking in Britain is…
A rum encounter
For many years, the Central American republic of Guatemala had a grievance against the United Kingdom. It claimed sovereignty over…
A toast to Spain
Towards the chimes at midnight, a few of us left a — respectable — establishment near Leicester Square. Eight or…
From puppy to Pinot
Meeting to taste wine, we started by talking about dogs. Roy Hattersley is good on the subject, which ought to…
A divided inheritance
When we consider poets who perished before their day, thoughts turn to the Romantics or the war victims: Burns, Keats,…
Low life
This month’s wine club lecture was on red burgundy. The members were settling themselves at two large tables when I…
The spirit of Prohibition
It is an old adage, but still pertinent. ‘Every generalisation about India is true, and so is the opposite.’ The…
Burgundian battles
There is only one answer to the question ‘Burgundy or claret?’ ‘Yes, but never in the same glass.’ Yet I…
The butt of jests and ribaldry
Few people, perhaps, will immediately seize on this title as just the thing for a relative’s Christmas, even if their…
Last of the lunchtime wine
This is a tale of two lunches, sort of. The first was a classically English affair. We started with native…
The real French embassy
Semper eadem. There is some basement in a Mayfair street that is forever France. It is not far from the…
A vintner’s vocation
A delightful girl came to see me this morning. She is helping with the research for a biography of David…
The willow and the vine
A high proportion of wine-lovers also enjoy cricket, and vice versa. This might seem natural. Anyone with an aesthetic temperament…
In praise of Japanese Bordeaux
Château Lagrange, a St Julien third growth, has the largest acreage of any Bordeaux classed growth. For much of the…
From horses to glasses
A stint in dry dock — the ‘dry’ literally — has one advantage. There is time for lots of long…
Escape to Burgundy
There have been some splendid rumours about my health. According to the most exotic, I was cas-evacked from a hill…
Dear Mary
Q. My dear English husband has never mastered the knack of timing his interventions in conversation. He hesitates politely, and…
Port and daughters
Port, or Hermitage? This does not refer to personal consumption. I was trying to remember Meredith’s Egoist, in which one…
Burns Night bottles
Give us this day our daily bread: those are also words of great culinary significance. Even if the ‘bread’ takes…
The great white Burgundy disaster
We agreed that it was the gravest crisis facing mankind. It has led to dashed hopes, widespread grief and a…
