RON MANAGER’S CELLAR NOTES (WHO IS RON?)

Hmmm… vatted Merlot, marvellous… VAT 69, Pope’s phone number, wasn’t it? Sweet plums and chocolate liqueur, always the last one in the box or is it the coffee cream – offering it to the lady wife with a cheeky grin – marvellous! Here’s a claret. Expensive, mon cher, I should cocoa. Ah the clarets – West Ham at home, blowing bubbles, blowing games – the Happy Hammers – especially if you’re auctioneer! The prices, isn’t it, aren’t they – tremendous? Thomas Jefferson, wine collector, cultivated footballer, two Lafite wasn’t it (or was it two left feet?).

The Englishman’s wine though, n’est ce pas? An Englishman’s home is his chateau. Chateau Latour, but where’s the Chateau Latrine? Privy, I know thee not, what? Bordeaux, the great port on the Gironde, although nothing to do with port. Don’t ask if you can’t afford it. The Aussies won’t have an inferiority complex though. Whinging Pomerols! Burgundy’s the thing. Forget the minor varieties – see you later, Aligote, kir today, gone tomorrow, isn’t it? Ho ho! Meursault and Montrachet, the twin pillars of Chardonnay. Has a ring, like bedknobs and broomsticks, the sound of music, the sound of Musar… a great Lebanese wine made by er… Lebanese! Or the sound of Muscat, a grape escape, Julie Andrews fleeing from the Nazis on her motorbike… Or was it the other way around?

Where was I? Great reds, Burgundies, but have they lost their bottle? When is a Nuits a no-no? The label may say Savigny but would you give your dog a Beaune? Are they cutting crus according their cloth? The Cotes of myriad colours… Should we boycott Gevrey? Ah, Headingley on a July afternoon with Yorkshire’s finest ambassador glued to the crease, the crowd snoring in unison - abiding image.

The French – they have a different word for everything, don’t they?

Beaujolais nouveau – vieu chapeau, isn’t it? Mmm, third Thursday in November… the race to get back for breakfast and have a good fry up. Un oeuf is un oeuf. Don’t forget the grilled tomatoes! Carbonic maceration? – I don’t mind what they do as long it doesn’t frighten the horses!

Cono Sur – one for the connoisseur – ho ho – what will the Chileans think of next – they can’t make Pinot in Chile, then again they can’t make chilli in Pinner!

Spanish wines – are they off their Riojas? Prices soaring like a bull-market. Toro Toro Toro - like Pearl Harbour! Pearls? Before wines? Ah drying out on mats in the bodegas – and that’s just the workers. Abiding image. El Tel given the Spanish archer (El bow, ho ho) by the crafty Catalans – they know what they’re doing – Torres, Torres, Torres everywhere you look. Lieutenant Torres, Starship Voyager, half klingon-half woman, I know which half I would cling on to!

Italy – the cattenachio double guyot system with the sweeper picking up the grapes - enduring image. Chianti-shire, the English playground of the chattering classes, hampers for goalposts.  Oh the vintage of the warmth south, drinking from the wicker flasks… wicker man… Edward Woodward built like an oak tree burned like one… Barolo… would you give someone your last one….  Just one Dolcetto give it to me! And what better way to wash down a plate of Spaghetti Carbone or Vitello di Canio than a nice glass of Daniel Verdicchio!

Botrytis cinerea – hardest game in the world! Misty golden autumn afternoons, mellow fruitfulness, smoke on the water, a fire in the sky. Shrivelled grapes – Ron gets that way in winter (!) - young lads and lasses picking them, purple-stained mouths, filling their baskets with the poetry of the harvest. Abiding image, isn’t it?

Robert Parker, the advocate, isn’t that a Dutch drink made from lawyers? No he’s the man with the marks - and the dollars - and the yen. The man with the golden tongue! Incorruptible. The Bordelais want to stick their business up his nose. You can see their point – 100 times over!

And a letter! Parker Roberts of Boston writes: “Dear Ron, which wine should I drink with oysters? The wife recommends a good Muscadet.” Ron says: “Have a wine instead!”

The New World… isn’t it? Hop off frogs we can teach you a thing or two, ha ha. A sea of Chardonnay… Chardonnay, Chardonnay everywhere, nor any drop to drink. The AA... Ancient Mariner wasn’t he? And what have we here? Cat’s Pee in A Gooseberry Bush Sauvignon – too much for Ron’s sensitive nose – as the Italians say aroma was not built in a day! Not chateau bottled but bottled eau de chat, isn’t it hmmm?

South African wine – red or white I’m colour blind. Bongo-bongo chenin though, isn’t it? Better than a kick in the goolies – with a wet kipper!

Finally, Ron’s piece of sage advice from the expert’s corner. Remember, when you are using a corkscrew that French and Italian wines are removed with a clockwise action, while those from Australia, New Zealand and South Africa have to be unscrewed anti-clockwise. Marvellous, isn’t it? Happy drinking!

Ron Wine Manager

.....who did you say he was??

 (Author's name and address supplied on request)