Now most folks who’ve read this blog from time to time will know I’m a big fan of wine. It’s the only vice I’m prepared to admit to, outside of my oncologist’s consulting room. And the wine I like and drink mostly is sauvignon blanc, taken with lots of ice. I get looks of incredulity from sommeliers and bar staff alike when I ask for it but I simply do not care. It’s what I like.
Now every once in a while, usually at times like Xmas, it’s easy to over indulge a bit and the old white grape juice can begin to taste a bit metallic. So on an occasional basis I’ll move back to my first love of the red, red wine. We had a lovely local wine where we lived in Italy – Solo under the Dezi label – which I’ve never found over here. However after sampling my lovely daughter and son-in-law’s stock, I’ve become a huge, if infrequent, fan of Argentinian malbec wine. And in particular a wine from the label of Domaine Bousquet. It’s just lovely but I only ever do a glass or so. As you may have guessed I got fed up with the old white this evening and I’ve just tried a glass of the malbec. And it’s hit the spot. I’m going to have another half glass to watch Man U’s glorious victory on MoTD. And that’ll be enough.
A glass of red is rich and rewarding but it’s useless at slaking my thirst, so I doubt it’ll ever replace my fondness for several glasses of something very cool, crisp and white, especially whilst I’m cooking. But every Preston Guild or so I’m tempted to remember and empathise with the words of the great UB 40 song (and did you know the lyrics were originally penned by Neil Diamond?)…
Red, red wine
Go to my head
Make me forget that I
Still need her so
Cheers and I hope you’re enjoying something soothing, medicinal and equally as festive as the Dom Biscuit reading this.