Jonathan Ray

So, you’re on the water wagon? Well, bully for you. Nobody likes a show-off. Actually, erm, I was on it too but, with Mrs Ray away and nobody to keep an eye on me, I fell off in week one with something of a thump (well, something of a thumping hangover, as it turned out). I clambered back on smartish, though, and don’t think anyone missed me. Please don’t say anything. My missus would take a very dim view of such a thing. Very dim. Anyway, whether on or off the wagon, we must fill the gaps left by bloody Christmas, and this is where this bin end offer with FromVineyardsDirect comes in, with wines really to savour at cracking prices.

We had a suitably effervescent hoot at our penultimate Spectator Winemakers’ Lunch of the year in the boardroom last week, hosted by Baptiste Marchal of Brimoncourt Champagne. Every bottle was drained and huge fun was had. Founded by former naval officer, paratrooper, lawyer, entrepreneur and art dealer Alexandre Cornot in 2008, Brimoncourt Champagne is based in a former printing factory in Aÿ (with such august neighbours as Bollinger, Gosset and Deutz), where the Spectator Wine Club has been entertained several times during our bibulous tours of Champagne.

Jamie ‘Jimmy’ Graham, co-proprietor with Carlos de Haan of Brunswick Fine Wines in Brighton, is one of my oldest chums. We cut our vinous teeth at Berry Bros decades ago, we live on the same street in Skid Row-on-Sea and, as always, we will be drowning our considerable sorrows together on Christmas Day. I’ve long badgered Jamie to run an offer here and, over several homemade Quarante Quatres (my new favourite tipple), he finally succumbed. I didn’t ask him because he’s a mate – almost everyone who runs offers here is a mate, the wine trade is like that – I asked him because the wines Brunswick peddle are so good and I wanted you to share the joy.

Klaxon alert! You have spoken and we have listened. You told us that you wanted a second bite of the vinous cherry that is our annual ‘defrocked’ claret offer with FromVineyardsDirect and so, dear readers, here it is, just as before: same wines, same vintages (2022 and 2023, belters both), same prices. As you know, these wines are surplus to requirement at some of the greatest, most revered estates in all Bordeaux. They’re made in the same cellars as the grands vins, by the same winemaking teams, with the same love, care and devotion, and share the same impeccable pedigree. No, they don’t quite have the same finesse, polish and elegance as the grands vins, but nor are they nearly as costly, in some cases being 1/20th of the price.

It has been a week of alcoholic highlights, and, yes, I’ve made the most of it. Oh, don’t be like that, you sound like Mrs Ray with her tut-tut-tutting and eye-rolling. The Spectator Wine Club tour of Bordeaux was followed by a Rhône dinner with Domaine Vieux Télégraph, a champagne dinner with Virginie T, a fine whisky tasting with Boisdale and Duncan Taylor Whisky, a lunch with Springfontein and a weekend for 40 readers at Swinton Park in North Yorks. We had some great grub at Swinton, the tastiest of all dishes being roast grouse paired with a brace of contrasting Pinot Noirs, surely the best of all grapes to partner great British game.

Cooee, we’re back! What? Oh, I’m talking about our second annual Spectator Wine Club assault on Bordeaux. I thought you knew. We had one heck of a trip, thanks so much for asking, and lost nobody in the field. With drinking boots brightly polished we easily saw off seven wineries and several dozen bottles in five days. And who knew that Spectator readers could come up with such hilarious – not to say smutty – limericks? Yes, I’m looking at you Sir Richard. And you, Nick, and you, Paul. If I had any hair left on my pate, it would have curled. We tasted remarkable wines and were looked after beautifully.

It was just going to be Nigel and me. You know, two old chums meeting for a quiet Monday evening drink and a natter. When I pitched up, though, Pete and Nick were also there, and if anything triggers my alarm bells it’s the presence of these two smiling assassins. I love all three boys dearly but, when together, they have form. They pick on me and egg me on. A magnum or so in and I’ve become a willing accomplice, we’ve overshot the runway and all is lost, with written apologies in the post. If Mrs Ray had known who I was going to spend the evening with, she would never have let me leave the house. Or ever let me back in.

It has been a gratifyingly wine-soaked week. Our Pol Roger-fuelled dinner celebrating the mighty Michael Heath’s 90th birthday was followed by a brace of Spectator Winemaker Lunches, one featuring Marimar Torres’s sublime Sonoma Pinots and Chardonnays, the other, at Boisdale, focusing on the glory that is Lebanon’s Ch. Ksara. Fearing toxic shock if I stopped, I continued my vinous operations with an extensive tasting with Armit Wines for this offer. As always, it was tricky to narrow down the choices, hence eight rather than six wines. I don’t think we’ve offered a Slovenian wine before but the 2021 Marinic Ribolla Gialla (1) certainly merits inclusion.

The boardroom clapometer said it all. Hosted by the winemaker Louisa Rose and the sixth-generation family member Lucy Hill-Smith, our Spectator Winemaker Lunch featuring the wines of Yalumba – Australia’s oldest family-owned winery, founded by Samuel Smith in the Barossa Valley 175 years ago – was one of our finest. I’ve never heard such riotous applause, nor seen such broad smiles across our readers’ chops. Mrs Ray, being half-Australian, had threatened to join us but was slow out of the traps and had to make do with the bottles Lucy kindly sent me to try at home. Fret not, she made the most of it. And the wines were so darn good, I’m delighted to offer them here courtesy of our good chums at Honest Grapes.

We’re just back from our stout-hearted Spectator assault on Porto and the Douro Valley, of which more in these pages anon. Suffice to say that it was mission accomplished and everyone in our highly motivated, well-drilled unit more than deserved their mentions in despatches. Indeed, so gung-ho were the troops on the flight home that even the walking wounded were busy volunteering for our next campaigns. With raids planned next year on Alsace, Rioja, Tuscany and even the Napa Valley, there is much to look forward to. Top of everyone’s list, though, is Burgundy and we’ll be heading there in cahoots with Kirker Holidays on 19-23 October 2026. It was a treat, then, to remind myself why we love the region by tasting a fine selection of white burgundies from Mr Wheeler.

Our two Spectator Clays, Claret, Cognac, Cigars (and Carnage) Cruises down the Thames last week were an uproarious success. Much fun was had and, apart from a couple of walking wounded – suffering not from gunshot wounds, you’ll be glad to hear, but simply a surfeit of claret and kummel – there were no casualties. Besides, our plucky pair soon revived after a pint or so at our temporary dressing station in The Dickens Inn. Our long-term partners for the cruises, Private Cellar, did us proud, supplying some stunning clarets, introduced by winemaker extraordinaire, Jean-Michel Garcion, hot-foot, mid-harvest, from Bordeaux.

Ring out the bells, hang out the bunting! Drop whatever you’re doing and pay attention! It’s that time of year again, marked in red on wine-loving readers’ calendars: our annual offer of declassified or so-called ‘defrocked’ clarets from our canny chums at FromVineyardsDirect. You know the form but I’m going to remind you anyway, as I’d hate you to miss out. Outlined below are six cracking clarets from two cracking vintages – 2022 and 2023 – plus one gorgeous Sauternes, all from the greatest of Bordeaux estates. As I’ve explained before, these wines are the excess production or the wines made from younger vines that don’t suit the estates’ grands vins.

Salute! It’s an all-Italian offer this week thanks to our fratelli nel vino at Honest Grapes, whose speciality is that great country. We could, of course, offer nothing but Italian wines all year and still not cover every region and every grape variety, but we’ve done our very best on this occasion to give as fine a glimpse as possible of the vinous treasures that Italy possesses by featuring as many different producers, regions and grape varieties/blends as possible. It wasn’t easy whittling them down and a lot of bottles were broached to get the mix just right. Don’t say we don’t love you. As so often, I was helped – in a manner of speaking – by the perennially unquenchable Mrs Ray. I thought she’d already nipped out to see her sister.

Mrs Ray is worried. Although she’s finally accepted that I drink too much when I’m out and about or at home with company, she’s fretting that I drink too much tout seul. Some misguided saps regard drinking on one’s own as the start of a very slippery slope, but I believe it to be one of life’s greatest pleasures. You can drink what you want, when you want, in whatever quantity or combination you want; you don’t have to defend your choices or field complaints that you’re serving white with meat or red with fish, and you can enjoy a ruminative glass or so undisturbed as you ponder life’s mysteries.

Lunch at the Academy Club with my wicked chums Mark Slemeck and Charlie Grey was probably not the best preparation for tasting a dozen or so wines for this offer from Corney & Barrow. Mark likes his wine but likes his caipirinhas better and Charlie is more of a Pinot Grigio/Newcastle Brown Ale kind of guy. They both made deep inroads into the academy’s list though, declaring each bottle better than the last as they eyed up their next selection. It was a relief when we got booted out and I finally managed to give the boys the slip as they tottered off to the Groucho Club for post-prandials and mischief. I kept my hangover at bay tasting these wonderful wines below and was well into my second wind by the time I got to the Sancerre.

With a seemingly endless round of lunches, dinners and tastings, it has been a punishing few days of far too much vino. Even dear Mrs Ray expressed her concern, although I thought that a bit rich given the state of her after Book Club. We decided, though, to take it easy, and I even foreswore my long-planned trip to Lord’s for England vs India where far too many temptations and too many wicked, practised leaders-astray lay in wait. Oh yes, you know who are. I missed one of the greatest ever matches, of course, and kicked myself for being such a sap. Happily, just as I was sinking into a deep, dark gloom, a dozen or so bottles of fine Beaujolais arrived from Mr Wheeler, ready to be tasted for this offer.

Hurrah! At last, I’ve persuaded the mighty Wine Society to grace our pages, and I’m delighted. Founded in 1874, the WS is the world’s oldest cooperative wine club, famed for sourcing top-quality wines at modest prices and for championing lesser-known regions. I’ve said it before: if, for whatever bizarre reason, I had to buy wine from only one source, it would be from the Wine Soc. Its Exhibition range is famously fine, and Mrs Ray and I selflessly tasted our way through it, arriving at the following delectable Drinkers’ Dozen. If not already a member, you’ll need to become one, but it costs only £40 for life with a £20 voucher to say welcome. The 2024 The Society’s Exhibition Marl-borough Sauvignon Blanc (1), produced by Jane Hunter, is a bargain.