09 Monday Sep 2013
Posted in Food
I met the BBL (Big Boss Lady) at a Christmas party over a large York ham, my opening gambit of “I hope you’re not going to eat all that” went down surprisingly well and we got on like the proverbial burning house.
It transpired that the VOR was a pastry chef, and no slouch either. The combination of wuv, twoo wuv, and a lot of cake immediately put 8 lbs on me. This is one of her recipes.
09 Monday Sep 2013
Posted in Musings
A faugue is a fake or faux brogue, a broguealike or broguette, if you prefer. I see a lot of these on my travels, and they do not make “a good foot”. They lack gravitas, unlike their ancestor the untanned, untamed, rough hewn, manly shoe of the Scottish Highlands. You cannot wade through bogs in the “faugue”, it is an indoor pump, a dancers shoe, more suited to silently crossing a room to kiss a lady’s hand than collecting a bird carcass at a shoot. They don’t like rain, saturating easily, the thinness of their soles readily curling up in the manner of a sultan’s slipper. My father once said that a man should never economise on his shoes nor his bed – because if he is not in one he is in the other – Say no to faux.
09 Monday Sep 2013
Posted in Wine
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When you first meet someone and fall hopelessly and helplessly in love, you are in the throes of a form of mental illness. A potent cocktail of chemicals and neuro-transmitters called ‘monoamines’ dominate your every action during this initial, attraction stage.
The object of your desire seems to hang on your every word, greeting each banal utterance with doe-eyed rapture and a puzzling atrophy of the neck muscles. They clutch you physically – generally by the arm – as if they are already going to lose you. They laugh loudly, and somewhat maniacally, at your hackneyed jokes and phrases – mainly because they have not heard them before, although you have secretly polished them up for millennia. Worst of all, your new love accompanies you everywhere. Activities, pastimes, hobbies and destinations are no longer your own and the loved one shows a zealots passion for the most absurd elements of your previously, private life.
Thankfully such madness abates during the second, or attachment, stage. The absurd behaviour stops and the loved one realises that you are not so funny, charming, handsome and popular and so takes off the wetsuit and the cricket pads.
It did not take the V.O.R. (my wife, the Voice of Reason) very long to tire of wine speak. Each swirl, sip and florid comment was met with a rolling of the eyes, an audible sigh of boredom and, in extremis, a sharp exit.
Until the Epiphany occurred, and it came with a great big glass of Pinot Noir. This was no ordinary Pinot, however, but a bottle of Domaine Dujac, Clos De La Roche,1990.
Now I make no bones about Pinot being female friendly, soft, lush, sensuous and elegant with a firm tannic streak, a smattering of earthy minerality and a nervy acidic backbone – a skittish thoroughbred amongst wines. The VOR took to it like a duck to water, enthusing about the nose, how the wine evolved in the glass, fruit intensity, tannins and finish were all commented upon (my pupils were dilating and what was happening to my neck), before she finally said “After all that banging on about wine, I suddenly know what you mean”.
The attraction stage had returned, she understood me again, and once more we spoke with one voice – only now I need a bigger wallet!
06 Friday Sep 2013
Posted in Wine
A “Sharpener” is a drink designed to alleviate dullness, put an end to ennui and torpor and lift ones spirits in preparation for the evening’s festivities.
As the weekend approaches, here is a tipple to stimulate the appetite, commonly referred to as an aperitif.
This is Dolin; a Vermouth made near Chambéry in the Savoie region of eastern France. It’s a blend of alpine herbs and spices, although like all good drinkywinks, the exact recipe is a closely guarded secret. Light, lively and refreshing on the palate – a little less viscous than Noilly Prat – it is generally accompanied by tonic, lemonade or mineral water. Personally I prefer it on the rocks, or of your spirits really require a kick start, mix it with Campari for a variation on the “bicyclette”
£9.89 from larger branches of Waitrose.
06 Friday Sep 2013
Posted in Art
Small works are a counterbalance to large works – in that the process of working is completely different. My larger works (mostly derived from “real” sources such as landscapes and seascapes) have to be initially drawn on the spot, coloured and then scaled up in the studio. The scaling up is a test, causing you to go from “live” sketches and photographs to larger preparatory drawings and compositions – these larger drawings are where the “tightness” of the composition often fails. The colour relationships have to be spot on, seemingly instinctive, and, for me at least, must come directly from the source material. Each colour represents an object, view, or shape encountered on the journey – they are seldom realistic. Classical music or opera is the only accompaniment – as any other music alters the tempo at which I paint.
Small works on the other hand are faster and I can listen to jazz when I make them. The source material is randomly selected, often coming from cut out images collected over a period of time. I choose these images merely because I like them – I have no idea what they may be used for and store them for future reference – accessing them as the work evolves. The subject matter may be equally random, often coming from text, words or phrases. I limit myself to the number of images used, a maximum of ten and a minimum of two. I push the images around on a blank piece of paper, to test the composition, and then begin.
03 Tuesday Sep 2013
Posted in Wine
I have been shopping, those with eagle eye vision will observe the Harvey Nichols bag in the background. Now, Harvey Nicks is not just a shop for fashionistas, D to Z list celebs, footballers their wives and wanabees – it has a serious wine department. Offering up not only the best Vermouth on the market Carpano’s Antico Formula, but some other gems to boot. I had a serious “flow” moment there (“Lost in the supermarket” The Clash, London Calling, 1979) and lost an hour of my day. Admittedly its a better line up than the “Usual Suspects” but which one is my Kaiser Soze? I believe the Turkish definition of “Soze” is to talk too much – so I shall keep it brief!
Adi Badenhorst’s wines are wicked! Biodynamic, organic, resolutely traditional, out there and uncompromising – you gotta love em! This is from his second tier range, “Secateurs Chenin Blanc” – I am ever an advocate (there is no connection) – and it delivers. Classic dumb-ish, wet wooley, secondary fermentation nose, a big splash of melon and citrus fruit on the follow through, balanced with seriously zippy, acidic zing! Check out his full range – you will not be disappointed.
The Domaine Drouhin Oregon Chardie (Willamette Valley) is Burgundian in character, a touch Chablisien, with bright, slightly tart, melony fruit, a lush creamy malolacticness (these malapropic descriptors are entirely my own) topped off with a judicious splash of classy French oak.
Pittacum is a red from Bierzo – a remote region in Galicia S.W.Spain. Considered by many to be the next big thing in Spanish winemaking, this is fashioned from the Mencia grape. Rarely grown anywhere else, Mencia delivers wines of great complexity, but at a relatively low alcohol level – have I mentioned this before? Organic, hand-harvested and the product of 75 year-old vines, it has a short maturation of around 4 months in American oak. Fleshy, well rounded with scents of blackcurrants and liquorice it is warmly concentrated with a slightly sweetish finish.
You should all know Paul Draper’s wines – if not, get a grip! This is Geyserville, a rustic, immensely characterful Zin – right up there with only the best examples. Damsons, plums, chocolate, lashings of creamy vanilla oakiness with huge concentration and an immense finish.
Man O War Syrah, from New Zealand’s Waiheke Island comes in at a whopping 14% abv, Despite such robustness, it remains extremely fresh, although meaty, with some white pepper and clove notes on the nose. It opens up and softens after an hour, rounding and fleshing out with richness and sweet fruit to the fore. I tend to shy away from a scoring system, and find most predictions regarding ageing potential woefully inaccurate – as far as I am concerned its ready now! I am unsure if this property is named after a racehorse – who famously contested a seminal race with Seabiscuit – or, judging by its Dreadnaught range, is more likely to be named after a battleship – answers on a postcard please.
The Rosso di Montalcino is exactly that, the red wine of Montalcino. Cherries, berries, slightly astringent tannins , lively acidity to balance with a clean and moreish finish.
Lastly Kleos, (in epic poetry meaning fame or renown – Lost in Translation) from the coast of Campania, south of Naples, across the bay from Positano – can I go on holiday now? The wine is made from the Aglianico grape – big, robust chunky with a hint of herbaceousness mixed with obvious depth and class. I liked this wine a lot – I don’t know if this was because I tasted it after the others – but it has charm, presence and more than a smattering of individual sparkle – perhaps its my Kaiser Soze.
03 Tuesday Sep 2013
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Sometimes a few wines cross your path that demand attention. This can manifest itself in many different ways. They can be dreadful (these will be absent from this blog so as to avoid hurt feelings ref “The Conchords“). They may be prohibitively expensive. They may be massively monstrous, or alternatively, they may be subtly sublime. I enjoy alliteration and use it often in homage to my childhood English master who said ” Lewis! This essay is a mass of mixed metaphors”. To which I facetiously replied “Is that not alliteration sir”. The wry smile on his face as he said “Get out boy” stays with me today. I am digressing , these two wines come under the heading subtly sublime.
I seem to be tasting (drinking) a lot of Italian wines at present – obviously not right now as its the morning! I find them to be the perfect wines for autumn – subtle, medium bodied with enough tannic grip and vibrant acidity to compliment the kind of food suited to summer’s end.
The red is a Nebbiolo from G.D. Vajra in the Langhe. It’s a kind of “Baby Barolo” coming from younger vines, but packed with the classic violet and red berry aromas associated with the grape variety. Aldo Vajra is a traditionalist, and a champion of old-styley winemaking (His Barolos spend three and a half years in barrel prior to bottling). Vajra’s wines are less powerful than those from Serralunga, but what they lack in oomph they more than make up for in elegance. This is almost Burgundian in style with an intense and pure fruit character redolent of it’s origin. Tannins are ripe – but necessarily grippy, and the balance is sublime. If your funds cannot stretch to Barolo then this is the badger!
The sticky is from the Maremma, and, if tasted blind, could easily be mistaken for a Barsac. It’s intentionally made by Elizabetta Gepetti as an homage to the wines of Sauternes (my blind note said Barsac). A blend of Traminer, Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon grown in Scanscano, this is lush, ripe, jam packed with peaches and enlivened throughout with a racy, almost citrusy acidity together with a smidgeon of minerality for added complexity. Again, if your wallet is too skinny for Sauternes you can always get two half bottles of this – give it a blast .
03 Tuesday Sep 2013
A deliberate typo this time, these are two exceptionally good books.
Richard Llewellyn’s story of Huw Morgan’s childhood (in a mining community in South Wales) is beautifully written and full of pathos and raw emotion. I consumed it over a weekend – much to the annoyance of my family. A cast of vividly eclectic characters and scenes come rushing into your head from a time and a world long past.
Brian Sewell’s autobiography is an honest, sometimes discomforting, rivetingly fascinating and unputdownable read. His account of Christies art department had many parallels with the old British wine trade – made me chuckle!
02 Monday Sep 2013
Posted in Wine
Its September, the sun is out, and I am still drinking mainly white wines. When being entertained, I am normally handed glasses of; Fizz, Sauvignon Blanc, un-oaked (or over-oaked) Chardonnay, and over cropped, over priced, Pinot Grigio. As a guest, I often rock up with a couple of bottles that I find interesting and am generally horrified when mein hosts disappear with said bottles and I never see them again! When I bring wine I expect to drink it, and share it. These are a pair of wines with real bling.
The Soalheiro Alvarinho 2010, from Portugal (Spain’s Albarino) is full of citrus fruits of high intensity. It’s not perfumed, as the nose is too creamily complex for that but the aromas do make you want to hastily delve into the glass. The mouthfeel is full and substantial, the flavours follow the nose with hints of peach and almonds. The finish is surprising, lively acidity, beautifully balanced with excellent concentration – scrumdiddlyumtious!
The Qupe Marsanne is a classic. Californian, with a big dollop of true French class. A blend of 75% Marsanne 25% Roussanne, ( principal white varieties of the northern Rhone) organically grown in the heart of the Santa Ynez Valley. The nose is an intense combination of nuts and pears, full and chunky on the palate with an oily richness balanced by classy acidity. It’s a little like a Viognier but without the peachy perfume.
02 Monday Sep 2013
Posted in Art
Tags
Creativity: Flow and the Psychology of Discovery and Invention, Flow, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Positive psychology, Psychology
Large works are time consuming. You have to prep a lot of paint – it must be the right colour and depth of colour – especially if its to go on in glazes. There is a comparison with surfing here – “How did you make that connection” – I hear my wife ask. Well, time bends (ref: Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, positive psychology “Flow”) when I paint. It is the same as being in the ocean. I am, for the time being at least, no-ones husband, father, son etc., I am totally in the moment. This is getting esoterical, so I will rein things in. Any reverie or freedom, however fleetingly experienced, is usually broken by a text message from my wife.
The V.O.R – or Voice Of Reason, as she prefers to be called -disturbs me ( like the rent collector from Porlock cut short Khubla Khan) and reality returns with a resounding bleep “get bread”, get milk”!
thesprezzaturist 