Whenever I tell someone that I work in the wine business, their reaction is usually to say how lucky I am, getting to drink all that lovely wine and all that. To an extent they are right, after 17 years in the business I have had the opportunity to taste (note that word, taste, not scull) some of the greatest wines in the world, often at no expense to myself. I should add that in the course of my job I often have to taste some of the most uninspiring, dull, insipid shite ever to emerge from a vineyard. (Yes, Chilean Merlot, that is you I speak of.)

But enough of that, let's get back to the good stuff. In my soon-to-be-previous job, I used to teach wine appreciation courses. During these courses, I used to warn participants of expecting too much from a special bottle. Wine lovers often hoard special bottles, taking them out to stroke lovingly every now and then, waiting for the exact, perfect moment to drink them. And when that time comes, their expectation is so high that disappointment is sure to follow.

I try to avoid this myself, and whenever I acquire something a bit special, I at least try to envisage a time when it could be put to the sword. I came upon a couple of bottles of Chateau Pontet Canet 1966 in excellent nick a few years back, and bought them in anticipation of my fortieth birthday, as I am of the '66 vintage myself. But fate dictated otherwise, as my wife was in the very latter stages of pregnancy with our beloved Aoife as my clock turned 40. But we did one of them justice this year for my 41st, and very nice it was too.

Even though I have had the fortune to taste some great wines in my career, others have eluded me. I have never tasted Petrus, Romanée Conti, and until Christmas night just gone, Chateau d'Yquem. Like nearly every other wine lover I have ever met, I am passionate about dessert wines. And for fans of dessert wines, Yquem is a milestone. It is regarded as the greatest sweet wine of the world, and the most famous wine of the Sauternes appellation in Bordeaux.

In September 2005, I spent a week in Bordeaux as guide of a wine tour. Once, when I had some time away from the group, I was browsing a wine shop when I saw some half-bottles of Yquem 1994 at somewhere between €50 and €100 ( I can't remember exactly.) Normally Yquem is several hundred euros per bottle, so I said "Sod it" and bought one. I knew 1994 was not a great year for Sauternes, but if it's a really bad year, Chateau d'Yquem will not release a wine under their famous name. So I figured that if Yquem made a wine that year, it must be of a high standard.

When I brought it home, we decided that Christmas would be a good time to give it the chop. The first weekend of December that year, my wife discovered she was pregnant, so that put an end to that. The following Christmas, we were still in the throes of being new parents, and fell asleep on the sofa at 9pm, so the Yquem stayed in its bottle for another year.

But this Christmas I was determined to lose my Yquem virginity. I had the Riedel Sommelier Sauternes glasses cleaned and ready. The bottle was chilled, but not too cold. We had a chunk of stilton to go with it. We opened it, and it was…

…alright.

Maybe I was expecting too much, but it was disappointing. There was a bitter streak down the middle of the palate, and it had no length whatsoever. I can still remember my first taste of Haut-Brion, Lafite-Rothschild, Margaux, Vega Sicilia, Krug, Penfold's Grange. This was completely forgettable.

Mind you, I wasn't paying for my first taste of all of the others. That might have been it.

Perhaps in future I should take the approach of Miles from the movie Sideways, who dispatched his cherished Chateau Cheval Blanc 1961 thus:





One thing I never understood from that movie - Miles reveres Pinot Noir and despises both Merlot and Cabernet Franc. Yet his prized bottle is Chateau Cheval Blanc, a blend of Cabernet Franc and Merlot. Maybe it's an in-joke or something.

I had planned to keep away from the keyboard today, but as there is absolutely nothing worth watching on TV, I find myself staring at that familiar screen again. Hope the day went well for everyone.

Joy of Tech's seasonal cartoon is a good 'un:



Some pics from Aoife's Christmas:


Our Christmas card pic


Harvesting low-hanging fruit from the Christmas tree



Santa's been here!

Twenty posted his top ten Christmas songs today, and I have to say I agree with him.

Every year, on December 1, radio station bosses decide that the season is open, and the Christmas songs can be played. And every year, the same old shite gets trotted out. Most of it comes from the 70s and 80s, which is in line with general playlist policy of stations like 98FM and FM104, who seem to think that music stopped on 31 December 1989. Here's my all-time top five crap Christmas songs:

5 - Last Christmas - Wham!
Back in 1984, a mate of mine in college had a dual turntable and used to DJ at house parties. One night in December, we were at a party, and he asked me to take over as he was on a promise. So there I was, trying to be as cool as fuck, when this hot young wan from college (that I had the major hots for) comes up to me and hands me a copy of "Last Christmas" by Wham!. What could I do? Play it and lose my cred, or refuse to play it and blow my chance with (I've forgotten her name) forever? I played it. I blew my cred. I never even spoke to (I've forgotten her name) again. I will hate this song as long as I live.

4 - Merry Xmas Everyone - Slade
My elder brothers were the custodians of music in our house, and one of the earliest bands to creep into my consciousness was Slade, along with The Sweet some time around 1973, when I was seven. This song dates from them, and gets wheeled out faithfully every year. Noddy Holder must turn on his wireless every December 1, and then sit back and wait for the royalty cheques to arrive.

3. I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day - Wizzard
From the same year as Slade's opus, Roy Wood is most likely living a comfortable retirement on the proceeds of this ditty. But what about the tuneless kids that sing the chorus? Do they still get royalties?

2. All I Want For Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey
A cash-in-on-Christmas song, complete with Mariah's vocal gymnastics and the obligatory sleigh bells. Hey, let's face it, anything with Mariah Carey in it is going to be shit, isn't it?

1. Stop the Cavalry - Jonah Lewie
The early-1980s charts are peppered with what I call anti-hits - songs (exclusively one-hit-wonders) that are outside the normal genre of a pop song but for one reason or another capture the imagination and get to No 1. Good examples of this are "Save Your Love" by Renee and Renata (itself a Christmas No 1), "Shaddapa Your Face" by Joe Dolce and "Grandma We Love You" by St Winifred's School Choir.

"Stop the Cavalry" is shit on two counts. First of all it's a perennial Chistmas radio favourite, and secondly it's an obvious anti-hit. And it's got fucking sleigh bells, too.

This was originally going to be a Top Ten, but I'm tired and need to go to bed. I may revisit the topic again before Christmas.

Rocky Frisco corrects me on the lyrics of JJ Cale's "Cocaine" here.

I've often gotten my wires crossed when it comes to lyrics, as I'm sure have many others. A friend of mine always thought that the opening line of Elvis Presley's "Suspicious Minds" was "We're calling a tram/I can't look out."

As it's the season that's in it, perhaps it's a good time to reveal one of my earliest lyrical misapprehensions. As a kid, I was under the impression that the words to Jingle Bells went like this:

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,
Jingle all the way,
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one horse ope and sleigh

At about age 10, I began to wonder what on earth an "ope" was, and subsequently realised what the correct lyric was. It was an early Father Dougal-type "Oh, right, Ted!" moment.

Which brings me to this, a brilliant ad for Maxell tapes (cassette tapes - remember them, kids?) from the 80s, featuring "Into the Valley" by The Skids.



So do you have any lyrics that you have been carrying around for years in your head, only to discover that the real lyric was actually very different?

I don't normally get into online campaigns, but this one is worth it.

Get "Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis" by Tom Waits to No 1 for Christmas.



If you don't know the song, watch this, it's fucking classic:

In Lidl yesterday, picking up a few bits and bobs (including their very good Serrano ham and Italian salami), I was making my way to the till along the aisle with the wines. Up to now, I have found the wine selection in Lidl to be atrocious, and normally wouldn't bother even looking at what was on offer. But a couple of things caught my eye this time around. It would appear that they have done a bit of work on their Italian offerings.

I picked up a Teroldego Rotaliano Riserva 2004 for €7.99 and a Vino Nobile de Montepulciano 2004 for €10.99. Teroldego is a grape variety local to Trentino in the north east, and sightings of it are rare on export markets. This one was perfectly drinkable, but it lacked the smoothness and depth of flavour typical of this variety. I'm enjoying a glass of the Vino Nobile as I write this. Vino Nobile di Montepulciano is made using the Sangiovese grape, and comes from the village of Montepulciano in Tuscany. Considered one of Italy's finest red wines, it usually retails for €20+. (It's not to be confused with Montepulciano d'Abruzzo, which is made using the Montepulciano grape and comes from the Abruzzi region to the east of Italy.) At €10.99, this is a genuine bargain.

Also a bargain, and I suspect a mistake, is Lidl's Parmesan. Priced on the shelf at €19.99 per kilo, but at €9.99 on the packet, I bought two quarter-kilo chunks for a fiver. It's the real stuff too - Parmigiano-Reggiano - not some ersatz parmesan-type cheap hard cheese.

I think it was Woody Allen who once quipped "Cocaine is God's way of telling you that you have too much money."

Maybe that's not so true anymore. By all accounts, it's now easier to score coke than hash in Ireland. There will be much hand-wringing in the next few days over Prime Time's special report on cocaine in Ireland, following on from the recent deaths of two men in Waterford after they ingested the drug. And of course there's the whole Katy French story.

I seem to get the impression that the Independent News and Media titles are trying to portray the death of Katy French as Ireland's Princess Diana moment. Talking to people I know, most had never heard of her until her name surfaced in the news last week. Maybe it shows just how few of my friends and acquaintances read the Sunday Independent.


JJ Cale:

Tonight, all across the land, off-duty nurses will don their trackies and slipper-socks, tie their hair up in a pony tail, install themselves on their sofas (with their feet drawn up underneath them), and armed with cups of weak milky tea will wait for the moment to say:

"She's doing that wrong!"

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, ER is back.

Aoife is learning the ins and outs of housework:

(QuickTime movie with sound)



Toon: "Laundromat" by Rory Gallagher (iTunes Store link)