Vegginomics

Like many of our neighbours back at the start of lockdown I was keen to grow our own tomatoes, so after failing to get any of my ten year old seeds to germinate I invested about 30€ in small plants, which I planted in flower pots, undeterred by our complete lack of garden.  Now several months later as my labours begin to bear fruit it is time to assess the value of this enterprise.

At present the crop looks likely to be around 20 tomatoes weighing in at about 1Kg in total.

The current price of tomatoes at Carrefour is 1.79€/Kg which suggests that my efforts have yielded  1.79€, however about two thirds of my crop are the small ‘cherry’ variety which cost 3.00€/Kg so building that into the calculation the yield is more like 2.60€.  We also need to realise that my tomatoes are all grown organically with loving care and due regard to the environment etc. and Bio. tomatoes (not that I usually buy them) from Carrefour range from 1.9x to 2.9x the price of ‘conventional’ ones, if we assume an average premium of say 2.4x my prime tomato harvest is now worth 6.24€.

Now I have the feeling that you might feel 6.24€ is a poor return on an investment of 30€, but let’s not be hasty and jump to conclusions based on a narrow materialist valuation, we surely need to take a more holistic approach that recognises the wider benefits to society.

Remember first of all that this enterprise required quite a lot of my time in planting, watering, feeding and daily pep talks for my little plants, time that I might otherwise have spent consuming depressing and alarming world news on my computer.  Quite obviously this time spent in the fresh air and sunshine was a benefit to my mental and physical health that will translate into greater life expectancy and reduced costs for the health services.

Yes, of course you say, but how can we account for this boon to health and happiness?  Well it is actually not that difficult.  Value of Life estimates for developed countries range from about $4M to $10M so let’s assume a modest $6M and a life span of 80yrs which gives us $205/day.  It seems eminently reasonable that all this healthy activity will extend my lifespan by half a day at least so we should add $102.50 (90.70€) to the proceeds of the enterprise.  I already feel so much fitter that I think it very clear that there will be savings on visits to the doctor and medications so we can add another very modest €100 to the total.

Thus we can see that the real return on the 30€ investment is in the region of 196.94€, a handsome return on investment of over 650% in just a few months!

Encouraged by the success of my tomato project I have been looking around for opportunities to expand the scheme and I have noticed that since lockdown the men from the Mairie have been less attentive to weeding the village streets which now bear a weed crop worthy of harvest.  My plan therefore, which I am sure you will agree is unique, is to raise beef cattle by grazing this bounty of the pavements.

Of course yields will be low, but that is one of the main advantages of the project.  Are we not daily exhorted to eat less red meat for the good of our health?  Once all cattle rearing has been converted to urban grazing that problem will be solved, as there will be very little red meat available.  Consider too the environmental benefits.  Are we not told what vast volumes of greenhouse gasses are emitted by cattle?  Clearly urban cattle will have to be much smaller (especially to navigate the narrow streets of our village) so of course they will emit much less gas!

Unfortunately however I am forced to put the urban beef rearing project in the back lot for the moment as the UK government needs my urgent assistance with their High Speed Train project (HS2).  Current cost estimates for the project are at £90Bn and resistance from the penny-pinching British taxpayers is running high, if history is any guide even this estimate will eventually prove to be a fraction of the final cost, therefore opportunities for cost savings are slim and Boris needs my help to add value to the project.

This should not be that difficult, if all window seats are allocated to tomato plants I’m pretty sure that the carriages will work well as mobile greenhouses, allowing the whole project to be rebranded as HSG, pretty catchy eh?  PC and Green, sure to be a big vote winner.  If they liked Brexit they'll love this!  I’m also confident that the HS2 team have not even considered exploitation of the track margins which could be usefully used to graze sheep, it may be necessary to slow the trains down a little bit but then who even needs (or wants) to get to  Birmingham that quickly anyway?

So, once again we see what startling results can be achieved with a little lateral thinking and a lot of red wine.

By the way if any of you want to jump in as early investors in my 'Boeuf du Village' enterprise just send money, no need to include your name and address, I guarantee there will be no returns.

A Mask for all Seasons

Whether President Trump is all for masks or not, their use, at least in public places, looks set to become the new normal for some time to come, so why not wear something stylish that expresses your personality?  After all we don't all go around in pale blue disposable shirts or dresses do we?

A few months ago a Canadian firm, Le Galeriste, contracted with Isobel to reproduce her paintings on a range of clothing items - Wearable Art no less.  Now the company is producing a range of washable masks featuring Isobel's designs - see illustrations at left and below.

The masks can be ordered from Le Galeriste website where you can view both the original paintings and the clothing items.  The masks cost $29 for two (earning Isobel a royalty pittance).

But why stop at masks, why not splash out for a whole matching stylish ensemble?

Here are some ideas.

A 'Peaceful' but not 'Silent' Spring

Now that we are almost at the summer solstice I can hardly believe that this spring, the 'lockdown spring' has slipped past so quickly, and here, where we are so fortunate to have the Dentelles in our backyard, it has been a remarkable spring.  Throughout lockdown there was almost nobody apart from us hiking the mountains, and the peace and quiet was palpable.  It was not silence as such however, but the lack of man-made noise, no distant sounds of traffic, not sounds of machinery, no aeroplanes and no human voices.  It was as if for those few months people and machines were banished from the world and in their place we heard the calls of birds that we never heard before and we saw animals, birds and reptiles that we never noticed before, it was their world once again.

This seems to have been a very prolific spring too.  The wild flowers have been more numerous and bigger than we have ever seen before.  I'm hoping that's because the spring weather has been particularly kind and not because the flowers are picked or trampled in 'normal' years.

Still it makes one think about the impact we have on nature, there can't be much of this planet untouched by Homo sapiens, and every year there are about 75 million more of us, which is more than the population of the UK.

Celebrating the Solstice

Tomorrow, June 21st, we'll celebrate the "Fête de la Musique" here in France with free performances by bands and musicians in the squares and on the street corners of every town and village across France.  In 'normal' years this is one of the most enjoyable nights of the year with dancing in the streets and the overflowing restaurant tables spilling over the pavements, this year I imagine it might be a smaller and more restrained celebration.

The event is the product of the ideas of Maurice Fleuret who was director of music and dance in the culture ministry of Jack Lang in 1982, however the then President of the Republic François Mitterand seems to have subsequently taken most of the credit - which is hardly surprising as this must be one of the most popular decisions of any politician!

The fête is always held on June 21st on the assumption that it is the longest day or summer solstice (in the northern hemisphere), although the solstice actually occurs at 23:43 (French time) June 20th this year, so I guess that means that today is really the longest day. However, regardless of the timing of the solstice, tomorrow night is party night in France.  I'm sure there will be plenty of people celebrating and the restauranteurs will be very glad to have some customers again.

Playing 'le foot' with Platini et al

As mentioned in a blog below I have a long relationship with France, its people, and some of its companies. Indeed, one of my very earliest memories is of walking the ramparts at Carcassonne aged three. I can also recall, a couple of days later, learning to whistle as we crossed the Pyrenees to Barcelona.

But among my greatest memories of this wonderful country is of playing football against Michel Platini and other French football greats in Paris in late 1994. It happened when, as part of the multi-decade dance of despair between the advertising agency McCann-Ericksen and GM Opel, the Opel Group was transferred from Frankfurt to Paris.

One of the first things I noticed in the Levallois offices of McCann Paris (located in the lovely old building that once housed the British Hospital) was a poster announcing a football match to take place between the agency and Le Varieté Club de France. I knew that such events often involved famous celebrities and sports people so I asked around and discovered that the agency team would be playing against Mr Platini and other such Gods.

New boots

Well, as someone who had lived, breathed and dreamed football from a very young age I was not going to miss out on this! So, although my boots were still in Frankfurt (where I was briefly known at 'der British Gerd Muller' after scoring a hat-trick in an indoor tournament) I ran out and brought another pair. To their credit, the agency team was more than happy for me to take part even though I had only just been dunped on them.

The match took place at a sport ground in the west of Paris on a Sunday afternoon. As always I arrived early so I was there to see Platini stroll in. Although his career had only finished a few years previously he had already fleshed out considerably and was - at least physically - far from the graceful and inventive matchstick who had won so many games for France and Juventus in the 1980s. Even so, just watching him strike the ball as he warmed-up with a few of his old team mates was a joy. Such effortless power and precision.

The other player I recognised instantly was the winger Dominique Rocheteau because he looked exactly the same as the man whose poster had been on my bedroom wall circa 1978. He had not gained so much as half a kilo and his hair was just as long. I don't know who else took part but I believe it was mainly players from the great French team of the early to mid-80s - players like Jean Tigana and Alain Giresse. (I spotted the 'Alain Giresse Sports Ground' or some such in the town of his birth near Bordeaux recently. The sports ground was hosting a rather pathetic-looking circus. I think I saw an elephant.)

Needless to say, half the agency was, like me, determined to be part of this (some of them were nowhere to seen on wet Tuesday evenings for matches against other agencies). As such, I started the match as a substitute and watched as the old pros ran rings around the young guys from the agency. Rocheteau, in particular, took it all very seriously and ran about eagerly, determined to win by as many goals as possible. This was slightly surprising to me because he had always given the impression of being something of a playboy who would forget about football when his career was over. Platini, on the other hand, just strolled around, occasionally getting the ball then doing literally whatever he wanted to to do with it, usually things the rest of us could only dream of doing.

Nutmegged!

I got on to the pitch half way through the first half and remained there until half time. Then I think I was off-and-on during second half. I don't remember doing anything useful in a footballing sense, not least because we rarely had the ball. Unquestionably, the highlight from my point of view was being nutmegged by Rocheteau. I also remember marking Rocheteau while Platini tried to get in a cross, and thinking 'Wow! I can't believe this'.

It was all over very quickly and the Old Pros beat the Young Fools by a ridiculous margin. I shook hands with Platini and some of the other legends at the end of the game. I then became a reasonably useful part of the agency team for the rest of that season, a team that contained a couple of very good players. But not as good as Platini and Rocheteau.

Bars and Bras

I have to admit that I do feel the call of the bar - not the legal bar you understand but the alcoholic variety.  Not that I'm a 'bar fly', no, at least not for the last 50 odd years, it's just a great social environment that I'm missing after a couple of months of lockdown and I have to wonder when, if ever, we'll be able to really enjoy it again.

What I miss is not the beery bar of my student youth, when the choice of beverage (and location) was dictated by financial constraints (and ignorance) but something that I came to enjoy later in life as my preference moved from beer to martinis to wine to real wine and good food!

Along with the change in taste came the discovery of those great bars (especially in California) where one can enjoy good food, usually cooked by chefs right in front of you, and pretty decent wine - all while seated in 'intimate public privacy' at a classy bar.  Happy times.  After a while and a little observation I also discovered that what the chefs were up to was not rocket science, and that's proved to be a handy life skill!

We all know that a great bar needs more than polished mahogany, backlit bottles and shady lighting - it needs a great bartender!  Forget the 'manager' who struts around nervously trying to avoid eye contact while he figures if he'll get his bonus this month.  What we need is the real bartender who remembers your favourite tipple when you've been away for six months, always pours a little more than he should and knows what's good on the menu.

However - what's really important of course is the company!  What can I say? Choose your really good friends, better still your lover, you'll have a great time!  Forget politics, the sports scores and the boring locals! Enjoy Happy Hour!

So I suppose now you are asking "Where do the bras come into all of this?"
Well, it got you reading didn't it?
And the question is "Are bras necessary in bars?"
Answers in the comments column please

Every picture tells a story ...

   

Lockdown relaxation day 1 - dinner at our favourite Gigondas restaurant - masks off for eating & drinking of course!

  

Some recent reading on the subject of France

Multiple visits in recent years to Gigondas and several other wine-producing areas of France have prompted me to direct more of my reading towards the country and its people. This is not to say that I was previously ignorant of French literature, history and society. As a child we often holidayed on France, I lived in Paris in the 1990s, and for much of my career I created advertising for Citroen. Thus I absorbed my share of Sartre, Celine, Camus, Maupassant, Robbe-Grillet, Flaubert, Voltaire, de Sade, Houellebecq et al, and read numerous non-fiction books on subjects such as Guy Debord and the Situationists, Voltaire, Rousseau and, of course, the Revolution.

This recent uptick in my reading around the subject of France has been very enlightening and I hope that sharing my thoughts might alert you to some books that interest you. For the purposes of brevity I have excluded books on the subject of wine. 

A load of Cobb(lers)?

Perhaps the most ‘difficult’ book among my recent reading is The French and their Revolution by Richard Cobb. This is not an account of the Revolution itself because Cobb was a social historian par excellence. As such, he focuses on subjects such as ‘The Officers and Men of the Parisian Armée’ and ‘A View on the Street: Seduction and Pregnancy in Revolutionary Lyon’. The result is 450 pages of dense, esoteric information – utterly fascinating or too much detail, depending on your point of view.

Still in a historical vein, The Conquest Of The Sahara by Douglas Porch is certainly worth reading. Essentially, it's one long tale of 'What were they thinking of?' as one expedition after another heads off into the desert, with countless deaths at the hands of the heat and/or the indigenous population. 

Cheese eating surrender monkeys?

Needless to say, I have read one or two books that cover WWII. Very enjoyable was Village of Secrets: Defying the Nazis in Vichy France by Caroline Moorehead. This is an inspiring story of  how people of various religious denominations – but mainly Protestants and Darbyists – living in the remote Easter Massif Central helped to save 5,000 people from the Nazis.

Less inspiring, indeed profoundly depressing, was France Under The Germans: Collaboration and Compromise by Philippe Burin. I read this just last year and even I was shocked at the extent to which groups such as the unions and industry enthusiastically collaborated. The book also acts as a solid history of the Vichy regime. Highly recommended.

Talking of cheese, I picked up an Eyewitness Companions guide to French Cheeses a couple of years ago, with a foreword by Joel Rubuchon. It is very thorough but I keep forgetting to take it with me on visits to France.

Some fiction

You may have heard of Leila Slimani, the French-Moroccan writer who has been lauded everywhere from the New Yorker to What Car?* Her novel entitled The Perfect Nanny won the Prix Goncourt a couple of years ago so when I saw a copy in one of the ‘street libraries’ in Amsterdam I naturally read it. I can only advise you not to do the same. Even by the standards of contemporary fiction it is nonsense.

*Only joking, I don't think she has come to the attention of the automotive press.

Better, I suppose, but not in any meaningful sense, was Houellebecq’s latest, Serotonine. It is all about…oh, you know what it’s all about and how he tells the story, such as it is. Why bother?

Peasants and prescience

John Berger is not French, of course, but he lived the second half of his life in France, largely as a peasant farmer in the Haut Savoie. While there he wrote some of his best fiction, notably some collections of stories about, or told by, peasants. A few years ago I read one of these collections. It is called Pig Earth and it is marvellous. It also incorporates a very good essay on the essential nature and outlook of what might be described as the ‘eternal peasant’.

A couple of years ago I finally got around to Jean Raspail’s Camp Of The Saints. An impressive piece of work that offered a glimpse into the future, although one person to whom I lent the book thought that it fell apart towards the end.

Politics and ‘progress’

Not too long ago I read The French Right from de Maistre and Maurras. A thin and rather pointless book if you ask me, which revealed some very nasty anti-semites, although Maurras had some interesting things to say about democracy. I don't know why George Steiner was involved with this book. Surely he had better things to do

Somewhat unstructured but always interesting was The Discovery of France by Graham Robb, which I read last year. Broadly speaking it relates the process by which a diverse and disconnected France, in which half the population didn’t even speak French in the mid-19^th century, was hammered into the modern French state. As so often with such books one immediately forgets much of the content, yet one fact always remains with you. In this case it is the fact that in 2005, something like 36 French departements were home to fewer people than in 1905.

Oh God it’s Godard

As someone who has probably seen more films by Jean-Luc Godard than most, I felt compelled to read every word of Everything Is Cinema by Richard Brody. It’s a very comprehensive biography of this infuriating man, with detailed accounts of all the films and TV projects etc. That reminds me, I also read a short book about Agnes Varda’s classic film Cléo 5 a 7, which contains more new ideas than almost any film ever made. Sadly, we lost this great artist last year.

Further down the cultural ladder, I happened to read Francoise Hardy’s autobiography quite recently. For reasons I cannot recall the title is Despair Monkeys. Naturally, it contains a lot of silliness and when you go to YouTube to check out the songs they are mostly rubbish although I will always like Star and A Vannes.

Truffle trouble and Peter Mayle

It’s not a French book, but Truffle Underground by Ryan Jacobs incorporates large sections about the shenanigans pertaining to the hunting and sale of truffles in places not far from Gigondas. Very interesting. And disturbing.

And then there’s the dreaded Peter Mayle. I had always refrained from reading him as A Year In Provence was the only book I ever saw in the hands of the most intellectually and spiritually vacuous boss I ever had. (And there is some competition when it comes to the vacuity of my various bosses, believe me). What surprised me about A Year In Provence and Toujours Provence when I found them both in street libraries (obviously I would never buy them) was just how feeble and unfunny they are. What a racket!

Odds and ends

I read a book – not a hugely detailed one – about Cezanne a couple of years ago but I can’t find it. Just recently I read those parts of The Novels of Robbe-Grillet by Bruce Morrissette that relate to the novels of Robbe-Grillet that I have actually read. And of course one is always reading travel or history books by the likes of Paul Theroux or Andrew Roberts that incorporate France to some extent.

In that regard, it should be said the Ashoka Mody’s brilliant EuroTragedy: A Drama In Nine Acts is substantially about France, given that it was Pompidou who first proposed the single currency and the French who constantly pushed for it thereafter. Fortuitously, I purchased this book a day before lockdown and it kept me occupied for a few days. Everybody should read it.

What’s next?

I would like to read that new biography of de Gaulle. There’s a book on the pile entitled St Joan of Arc by Vita Sackville-West although I don’t know if I’ll ever bother with that one as I probably know all I need to know about Jeanne d'Arc. I really must read Soumisison, which will probably come to be regarded as Houellebecq's most significant book, if books are permitted in the future that awaits us. I will not be reading any books by or about Sarkozy, Hollande or Macron.

Regional specialties and a unique wine!

This weekend in Le Temps des cerises we combined take away from one of our favorite restaurants in the village, with one home made dish. Like everywhere else, also here restaurants provide a take away service in order to survive-more or less- this especially for them very difficult time. The restaurant 'Puurs Lof' serves Flemish and regional specialties, like for example eel in green sauce, fish stew and asparagus soup. We ordered the asparagus soup and the croquettes with asparagus and North-sea shrimp! absolutely delicious!

The main dish was again, on general demand, the pork cheeks stew with Rodenbach I made two weeks ago!

The wine this Sunday was a bit of a curiosity, that takes me back to one of the weirdest conversations I have ever had. One evening a few years ago,  I got a strange phone call from somebody who was clearly drunk and who I could not very well understand because the line was awfully bad. Through the crackles I could however discern this one phrase, an enigmatic question that was asked without any introduction:  'what is bee's knees in Latin?' I had no idea who this man was and what he was talking about... I just thought: 'you're going to have a serious headache tomorrow'. It turned out this person was my father, calling from Gigondas -hence the bad line- and 'Bee's knees' was a new wine in the making... These days, a bottle of Bee's Knees is hard to find, but fortunately we have our contacts- networking is everything these days! So there it was!: a powerful and yet fruity, unmistakably high quality Gigondas. If it is true every wine bears the mark of its maker, then there is certainly a viticulteur de caractère behind this one!

Death, Debt and Divorce. The unholy trinity that can help you to put together an interesting and inexpensive wine cellar at auction.

You don’t have to be a plutocrat bidding incredible sums for cases (or even bottles) of investment grade Bordeaux and Burgundy to take part in a wine auction. Because every auction will feature hundreds of affordable, interesting and even excellent lots that the rest of us can afford to bid on. And for this we can largely thank the three Ds of Death, Debt and Divorce.

In the case of Death, private collections that lie in dank cellars and dark cupboards are disposed of by the family of the deceased. Debt frequently causes successful businessmen to unload the wine collection they accumulated when the going was good. These guys often buy more wine than they can ever drink, sometimes without even knowing what they are buying. As for Divorce, why shouldn’t it be you who ends up with the wine when the assets are split?

(Of course, Death, Debt and Divorce, or combinations thereof, can also ensue from buying rather too much wine at auction, but we need not dwell on that).

Another reason why auctions are a good hunting ground is that many lots come from shops and merchants who send perfectly good wines to auction because they need to free up space in their premises. Many of these wines will be hitting their optimum drinking window as you catch the eye of the auctioneer.

Bargains galore

Much of my cellar – such as it is – has been sourced in this way. Where else could I have picked up a few bottles of the mercurial Marc Tempé’s 1999 Mambourg Vendage Tardive for just £9 per bottle (including commission)? Or three bottles of ageless 1989 Domaine la Roquette for £20 each? Or, to go up a level or two, a 12-bottle case of Tardieu-Laurent’s better cuvees from 2004 for half the market price? And just recently I bought a mixed case of 12 different bottles of Bordeaux going back to 1961 for less than £10 a bottle including commission. Thus far, all the bottles have been very good.

Those are just a few of the gems I have taken home over the last 20 years and I would encourage anyone to negotiate the risks, rituals and rewards of wine auctions. However, I have made my share of mistakes and I often see the over-optimistic and under-researched spending good money on bad lots. So, how does one go about walking away with excellent low- to mid-priced lots alongside one or two more expensive bottles?

Online or on-site?

There are wine auctions taking place all over the world on any given day, and they all allow you to bid online. The catalogues are available to download in advance and you can often continue to bid on unsold lots for some days after the official auction date. However, it is not cost-effective to have low- or mid-level purchases shipped from the other side of the world. And for all the wonders of the internet I much prefer to attend the auction in person. It makes for a very civilised day out and you can sample some of the wines in the pre-tasting. Even better, I know of at least one auction house that supplies you with complimentary food and wine all day, Las Vegas-style.

The catalogue

The auction catalogue will provide a detailed description of the appearance of the wine and the condition of the capsule and label etc. Perhaps most importantly, the ullage will be noted as an indication of how much of the wine has evaporated over time. The general rule (or belief) here is that the lower the ullage (or ‘fill level’), the more likely it is that the wine will have deteriorated.

However, catalogue descriptions are by no means an infallible guide to the quality of the wine. Youngish bottles of excellent appearance from good producers can be poor, while ancient bottles that appear to have been rescued from a landfill site can be wonderful. All auction houses will allow you to inspect the goods prior to the auction. Ultimately, it’s a case of caveat emptor, although experience with different wine types and vintages will help you to make fewer mistakes over time and pick up that great case of 1980s Madiran that nobody else has spotted.

Do the research

Always do as much research as possible before deciding which lots to bid on, especially if you don’t have a deep knowledge of the producer and/or appellation pertaining to a specific lot. Prior to the auction I will spend a few hours consulting various books and websites, or friends who know more about a given wine than I do.

In this respect John Livingstone-Learmonth’s book The Wines Of The Northern Rhone is a remarkably accurate guide to the quality and drinking life of wines made 15 to 20 years ago. James Halliday is a good guide when it comes to Australian wine. Online forums such as Cellar Tracker can be useful although reviews are often contradictory, and standard references such as Robert Parker and Hugh Johnson help to build up a picture of whether or not to bid. Above all, I have spent many years attending blind tastings of old wines going back to the 1920s. This has given me a good knowledge of vintage Bordeaux, along with experience of older wines from the Rhone, Burgundy, Italy, Spain and elsewhere.

Maximising your chances

Your tastes will not be mine. However, having bought countless lots from around the world, vintages ranging from 1937 to 2015, and bottles priced from £4 pounds to £150, I can offer a few guidelines that will increase your odds of drinking happily, not spitting angrily.

Good value reds

Powerful, tannic reds from places like Madiran, Cahors, Puglia, and Portugal invariably remain drinkable and even wonderful for many decades. They are often available for just a few pounds per bottle.

At a slightly higher price level I have been investigating wines from some of the better Languedoc and Australian producers (particularly those under screwcap) from the early noughties, with very positive results. In principle, tannic reds from anywhere are usually worth a punt.

Good value whites

Obviously, dry whites tend to lack longevity, but Riesling is a glorious exception and you can usually find cheap lots of German wines from the 1980s and earlier that are still very nice to drink. Sweet whites can last forever but the more celebrated ones will be expensive. On the other hand, it is often possible to buy wonderful 1980s/90s late harvest Riesling, Pinot Gris and Gewurztraminer from Germany and Alsace, not to mention Coteaux du Layon, for next to nothing.

Burgundy

If it’s more than a few years old and affordable, beware. Even if it’s less than a few years old and affordable, beware. If it’s from a famous producer, beware. If it’s from a producer you’ve never heard of, beware. The debtor’s jails and psychiatric clinics are full of people whose dreams have been destroyed over many years of purchasing Burgundy at auction.

Do as much research as you can and, unless money is no object, restrict purchases to wines that are less than 10 years old for reds and even younger vintages for whites.

Rhone

Syrah from the Northern Rhone can remain in very good shape for 30 or 40 years, and can often be bought quite inexpensively. I will never forget a case of 1979 Gerin Cote-Rotie that only cost a few pounds per bottle. A recent bottle of 1983 Cornas from Delas was excellent, and you can usually rely on the better producers from across all appellations.

In the Southern Rhone good examples of Chateauneuf du Pape from good vintages can last for 50 years or more and be eminently affordable. They might even come in those woozy old CdP bottles. Elsewhere in this region, it is best to stick to more recent vintages unless you have specialized knowledge of certain producers from appellations such as Gigondas and Vacqueryas.

Bordeaux

There are very few bargains to be had but keep an eye out for right bank satellites from the last 15 years or so. In terms of very old vintages i.e. pre-1960, chateau that you’ve never heard of are just as likely to be drinkable as famous estates and can sometimes be bought for pennies. Dry Bordeaux whites can be fickle and often begin to fade after just a few years so caution and careful research are advised. The dessert wines from Sauternes, Barsac and their satellites last forever and you can find enjoyable bottles that are 50 years old for a few pounds.

Italy

It is possible to find good value Barolo and Barbaresco from less prestigious producers but stick to relatively recent vintages. That said, if you spot some ‘Spanne’ (an old local name for Nebbiolo) from the 1960s and it’s not too expensive, give it a go. Be very careful at all price levels in Tuscany as Sangiovese rarely ages well, although I encountered a very nice 1993 Brunello in a pre-tasting recently. Reds from the Aglianico and Primitivo grapes in Campania and Puglia respectively are big, dark and tannic, good value and still drinkable for many years after bottling.

Spain

Red Rioja invariably lasts for decades and will not break the banco. Good reds from Priorat and Penedes can also go on and on but will be more expensive.

Very old wines

Some people are irresistibly attracted to old wines. (For the purposes of this article we can define ‘old’ as pre-1980.) I am one of these people.

Others think such wines are a bizarre indication of necrophilia over oenophilia. It’s a big subject and unless you have a detailed knowledge of aging and vintages as they relate to different wine regions, appellations and producers you should be careful. For instance, that case of old Bordeaux might look like good value at £100 – until you realise that all the bottles are from 1973 and 1974 (two very bad vintages.) Spread your bets and go for an inexpensive mixed lot of different chateau and decent vintages – you don’t want to end up with 12 undrinkable bottles of the same wine.

Good bottles in mixed cases

The professionals and the rich prefer to buy perfect, six- or twelve-bottle cases of the best wines. This sometimes enables the rest of us to find, hidden in mixed cases, small hauls of marquee wines at lower than market prices. I have enjoyed the top cuvees of Cavallotto, Clape and Domenico Clerico, among others, in this way.

Understanding the catalogue

Every lot in the auction catalogue will feature the name(s) of the producer(s), the cuvee(s), the vintage(s) and appellation(s) etc. This will be accompanied by a series of initials that provide a detailed description of every single bottle within the lot. A glossary of these initials will be found in the catalogue.

Here I list a few of the standard descriptors, along with my alternative versions, in amused affection and tribute to wine auction houses everywhere.

OWC: Own Wooden Case/Own Wooden Coffin

WC: Wooden Case/Was Chablis

BC: Below Cork/Before Christ

FL: Faded Label/Feeling Lucky?

SOS: Signs of Seepage/Some Old Sauvignon

WISL: Wine Stained Label/Will I Still Love It Tomorrow?

LL: Loose Label/Litigation Likely

NL: Nicked Label/Not Likely

TS: Top Shoulder/Tough Sell

DC: Depressed Cork/Disappointed Customer

SDC: Slightly Depressed Cork/Seriously Disappointed Customer

TL: Torn Label/Total Lunacy

TAL: Tattered Label/Tannins Lacking

PC: Protruding Cork/Previously Chianti

HTMS: High-to-Mid-Shoulder/Hit and Miss

VHS: Very-High-Shoulder/Vinegar Hardly Surprising

MS: Mid-Shoulder/Might Survive