Wine Club

When I worked at Berry Bros & Rudd 20 years ago, I had a wonderfully eccentric customer who liked to ring up during bathtime. He was a confirmed claret lover and, although he longed to broaden his horizons, he could never quite muster the courage to do so. We would spend 20 minutes or so discussing tasty alternatives from the Rhône, Spain, Italy or the New World, but his nerve always failed him and he’d retreat guiltily back to the safety of Bordeaux. He promised faithfully to be more adventurous next time, although we both knew he wouldn’t be, and I would go through the motions of giving him the prices of a Chianti or Crozes-Hermitage. ‘Hang on,’ he’d boom from the bathroom.

What I most admire about FromVineyardsDirect (apart from the quality and quirkiness of their wines and the ease of ordering) is the brevity of their list. There’s no messing about with any unnecessary padding; no wines bought simply to fill a gap because a particular grape, region or producer is under-represented. Every bottle stands on its merits and although the list does inevitably grow a little every year, it is pretty much cut to the bone. As FVD’s co-founder Esme Johnstone (who has decent form in the trade, having also set up Majestic) says, ‘Why have 20 different and — in some cases — indifferent Chablis when all you need is one or maybe two first-rate ones?

The late Alan Watkins, in whose ­memory we enjoyed a commemorative lunch at the Garrick Club the other day, was for a spell the wine correspondent of the Observer. He wrote almost exclusively about French wines. I used to chide him gently, pointing out that there were marvellous wines from the New World. He would shake his head, and say that, yes, some were all very well, even quite good. But you couldn’t drink them every day. And in the case of some, you couldn’t drink more than a single glass at a time. French wines, he implied, had a finesse, a degree of class, a touch of steel. To extrapolate, Aussie wines, for instance, were like a new acquaintance who seems incredibly friendly but quickly becomes wearing.

Next month we launch the new all-singing, all-dancing, bells and whistles super-duper Spectator wine club, which will be much the same as the old Spectator wine club, but bigger. And even better. Meanwhile, as you wait with bated breath (not ‘baited’ breath; you do not have a piece of cheese or a worm on your tongue), I heartily recommend these wines from Swig, one of our popular and successful merchants. They buy up smallish parcels of superb wines that you simply will not find elsewhere. There is a degree of risk for Swig, because most people haven’t heard of these wines. Sometimes they fail to sell briskly enough from the list, which is why there are generous discounts here.

Simon Hoggart's latest selection for the month of August People sometimes ask me about those ads you see in magazines and the weekend papers. ‘Get £89.95 worth of wine for just £49.95! Our introductory offer brings you twelve superb wines for barely more than half price...’ How do they do it? Easy. The great majority of the wines are ‘exclusives’ which means that the company has bought up the entire production of a winery. They can then list the stuff at whatever notional price they like, and base the so-called saving on that. It’s as if I were to write to the editor of The Spectator and say: ‘Yes, get an article worth £350 for only £200!

This week brings a welcome return of The Vintry, a sort of co-operative of wine-lovers who use communal buying to reduce prices. They then hold tastings in their own homes. If you’re lucky enough to live near one, you can sample and buy their wine on the spot, or they’ll deliver locally. Martin Knight, the ringmaster, is giving Spectator readers, wherever they live, free delivery for this offer (fuel prices mean that the cost of carriage is increasingly a nightmare; I only hope that we can offer free delivery for a while yet). And the wines, all French, are very good indeed. The Domaine Rives-Blanques Chardonnay 2006 (1) from Limoux, where the famous sparkling Blanquette comes from, is gorgeous.

The Loire produces wonderful wines for summer. Perhaps it’s holidays in July and August, driving from château to château, past the slow reaches of the river and green meadows almost yellow from the sun. Baguettes and pâté under the willow trees.... Actually that may be a figment of my unreliable memory. But the wines really are crisp, refreshing and lively, as well as having plenty of body. Lay in supplies so that your al fresco meals will be even more delightful. And less expensive too. The Loire had the same crummy summer we did last year, but, like us, they did get sun in spring and autumn. Most — though not all — wines were better than rescued, though prices went up.

I’m just back from the United States where the local wine is ridiculously expensive, apart from the ridiculously cheap, and you wouldn’t want to drink an awful lot of that, since Diet Coke may be more subtle. I’m just back from the United States where the local wine is ridiculously expensive, apart from the ridiculously cheap, and you wouldn’t want to drink an awful lot of that, since Diet Coke may be more subtle. The best Californian wine is superb, and priced to match. At the huge California tasting in London I tried a Cabernet Sauvignon which I thought first-rate. I asked the price. ‘Around 90 of your British pounds,’ the owner said. ‘That’s astonishing,’ I said. ‘Only £90 a case?

This month we feature luxurious wines from France — some well-known, others which deserve to become much better known. This month we feature luxurious wines from France — some well-known, others which deserve to become much better known. They’re from Yapp Brothers in Wiltshire. The celebrated Robin Yapp, who founded the firm, and his son Jason Yapp, who is now running it, have always taken great delight in fossicking out wines from small vineyards in the Loire and southern France. Their idea of joy is to go off the motorways, off the side roads and onto a dirt track, at the end of which is a gnarled old vigneron who welcomes them with home-cured ham, local cheeses and an amazingly delicious wine.

Years ago, during what had become an intolerably hot summer, we found ourselves in a pub garden in a village near the Thames. We were all dressed in minimal clothing — shorts, T-shirts and sandals. Even so we felt suffocatingly hot. At a table nearby a group were waiting for guests, who turned out to be Roy and Jennifer Jenkins. He was wearing the full country fig — cavalry twill trousers, a tweed sports jacket, and of course a necktie. I thought we might watch him melt before our eyes, though he seemed perfectly comfortable. His host then disappeared into the pub and returned clanking three bottles of Berry Bros’ Good Ordinary Claret. A risky choice, I thought. Roy would like the ‘good’ bit, but would be dubious about the ‘ordinary’ tag.

This is our last mini-bar before we start to get ready for Christmas. I have chosen four medium-priced but excellent wines to see you through to the serious festive season. They come from another of our favourite merchants, Tanners of Shrewsbury. One of the attractive features of the wine trade is the way that people who work for different companies usually get on terrifically well. In fact, six of the leading companies co-operate as The Bunch, and together hold a couple of serious tastings in London every year. These are unmissable events, and the most recent is where I tasted some of the wines in this, I hope engaging, offer. First is a lovely white Burgundy, the Mâcon-Vergisson 2006 (1), which is made by Nadine and Maurice Guerrin.

For some reason I like to have a theme for our mini-bar offers, concentrating on a particular country, region or grower. I couldn’t think of one this time, but I did want to bring back Private Cellar, one of my favourite merchants, whose small team seems to have pretty unerring palates and who can nose out excellent wines at good prices. I suppose, faute de mieux, I could call this offer Old and New Classics. The first new classic is Dr Ernst Loosen’s Villa Wolf Pinot Gris 2006 (1) from the Pfalz area of Germany. This is unlike any German wine you have tried. For one thing it is not a Riesling. And it is stratospherically better than the thin, anaemic fluids sometimes made from Pinot Grigio (the grape’s Italian name). Instead it is rich and full and creamy.

The name of Robert Parker, the oenological sage of Maryland, is not often invoked by British merchants, who tend to sniff that he is too keen on overflavoured wines that lack subtlety and finesse. On the other hand, when he gives a wine an over-the-top rave, they often find they can swallow their disdain. Take this ‘First Growth’ Cabernet Sauvignon 2000 (4) from Coonawarra, made by the Parker Estate (no relation). ‘Stunning ...a super wine ...dark, opaque, ruby/purple coloured, sensational nose of wood, fruit and herbs ... full-bodied, superbly concentrated, well-balanced, just beginning to unfold. Can easily compete with the best of Bordeaux and California.’ It is indeed a wonderful wine — rich, meaty, delicious to drink now but will keep for some time.

The weather may be bizarre at the moment, but when the sun comes it seems particularly warm, which is when you will crave these excellent wines. They have been selected for summer drinking by Amanda Skinner of Lay & Wheeler, one of our most popular merchants. They are perfect for parties, barbecues, picnics or as aperitifs, even for drinking indoors while the rain lashes against the windows. All are discounted on L&W’s list price. The full title of our first is (draw breath here) Prosecco dei Colli Trevigiani Frizzante Nera Spago, De Faveri, Veneto, n.v. (1). I would translate but we don’t have the space. All you need to know is that it is a luscious Prosecco, full of soft moussy bubbles and with a lovely vibrant flavour.

Fashions in wine change, like everything else, so it was inevitable that when New World wines swept all before them, Europe would learn to follow the trend. Which is why in southern France, northern Spain and northern Italy these days you find much more highly flavoured wines — ‘fruit bombs’, some cynics call them — though often still showing some of the strength and backbone that comes with a less evenly sunny climate. In the past, the subtlety could be more important than the flavour; now there’s a better balance. And in turn the New World has copied that.

Order your wines by email. Now, pay attention. We have a lot of wines to get through and not much time, so if you don’t mind, I’ll crack on. All the wines come from the famous City firm of Corney & Barrow, and almost all are generously discounted. And there is the Brett-Smith Indulgence, which knocks off £6 per case if you buy two for delivery inside the M25, three cases outside. You will find many bargains here. I have selected (and marked) two mixed cases, one for summer drinking, the other a luxury case for any time. But first, C&B’s marvellous house wines, perfect for parties and everyday quaffing. The white is zesty and lemony, the red warm and full. At the pitiful price of £55.20 you can bump up your order to qualify for the Indulgence.

Order you wines online. Stone, Vine and Sun, a modestly sized operation near Winchester, keeps winning awards as the best independent wine merchant, and I’m not surprised. There’s a nimbleness to these smaller companies; chaps (or chapesses) whizz off to investigate some little half-hidden vineyard, and because they need less stock than the giants, they can snaffle undiscovered treasures without the fear of running out during the life of the list. And it helps having people who really know their wine and can sniff a bargain like a pig finding truffles. This month’s Mini-bar contains four of their best parcels. Three come from southern France which, as I have often said, now produces some of the most delicious and best-value wines in the world. Take M.

Order your wines by email. Summer is almost upon us. Ah, the cancerous barbecue smoke drifting from next door’s garden, the stinking, sweaty trains and buses, the yobs with stomachs spilling over their shorts, the never-ending football season. Sorry, didn’t mean that. It was very negative. What I meant to remind you of was the murmur of bees, the hum of gentle alfresco conversation in the sunshine, picnics under the dappled light of an apple tree, the scent of flowers and newly cut grass as dusk begins to fall. That’s what this offer is about. These are wines for summer, wines for those lovely days when you can eat every meal outdoors, when your guests come for lunch and mysteriously, sleepily, stay for supper.

Order your wines by email Prestige Agencies is part of the admirable Playford Ros company in North Yorkshire. They sell some wonderful wines from the world’s boutique vineyards, often made in tiny quantities, all created with the kind of loving attention you just don’t get in supermarket booze. Because the wineries are so small they are rarely well-known, so, like a drug dealer lurking outside the school gates, Andrew Firth has offered Spectator readers some remarkable bargains in the hope of getting you hooked. I think you will be as impressed and delighted as I was. The two whites come from Foxes Island, which is a dry ridge in the heart of the celebrated Marlborough region of New Zealand.