The 40th Show was a Wine Rave! Loved every minute of it. Just couldn't walk at the end! (Tired, I mean, nothing more!) Thanks and love to all there.
Don't know how we did it but at dawn the following day we were out in Wyfold vineyard again, helping Barbara and Cherry bring in their Chardonnay. 3 tons of it. Way up on last year. (Not to mention the '07 zero harvest). Tired? Beyond tired. Zombie.
Monday heading in to a meeting with the whole buying team under London Bridge at Vinopolis but had to divert at Euston to Cumbria; (Mother unwell. But now happily improved). Back Wed for Board Meeting for 2 days, then Friday looking at possible new English vineyard sites with Thierry Lesne; our ex-flying winemaker chum from Champagne. He liked our chalk soils! He loved all the partridges and pheasants he saw. He'll be back.
Last night we had Barbara and Cherry's Vintage Supper in the barn for all or most of their unpaid helpers. All decorated with autumn red vine leaves and berries. Standing by the brazier it was the final, final, end of ends to vintage '09.
Tomorrow we fly to Sydney via Fiji where we are to spend a few days afloat with Barb and my great Aussie mentor; David Thomas. It'll be back to school. But in Fiji so who cares! I don't know how communications work in the Pacific, anyway my Blackberry will be confiscated. So there may be some silence which Rob my web boss will fill with news from home.
Back soon!
Wednesday, 28 October 2009
Cheering one for the older customer …
Anyone who remembers the old Bordeaux Direct days will remember the old Coq! My original emblem. A cockerel in the shape of a wine glass. Doodled on the back of a wine label while I was chained to the bottling machine in '66. Stuck it on the side of my van in '69. Coq au Vin, really. (I was once asked if I sold wine or chicken!)
Well, the marketing consultants despatched the old coq to poultry heaven ("too French!") when we changed our name to Laithwaites a few years ago. Or so I thought! Turns out old BD fanatics rescued the dear bird and had him frozen.
For our 40th bash dinner for our winemakers there he was again in all his glory. Inside his block of ice. By midnight he still hadn't thawed so I guess he's back in the freezer. One day.. One day my Coq will return.
Well, the marketing consultants despatched the old coq to poultry heaven ("too French!") when we changed our name to Laithwaites a few years ago. Or so I thought! Turns out old BD fanatics rescued the dear bird and had him frozen.
For our 40th bash dinner for our winemakers there he was again in all his glory. Inside his block of ice. By midnight he still hadn't thawed so I guess he's back in the freezer. One day.. One day my Coq will return.
Monday, 26 October 2009
Reassuring customers we don't deliver via the Royal Mail
The email I sent out about the post strike seems to have reassured customers. Now everyone realises they can get all our offers and lists 'on-line', and understands we do not deliver via the Royal Mail. Business seems to be as good as normal, even maybe slightly ahead.
The power of this Web fair boggles!
When we had this post trouble last; in the Seventies we didn't have any other way to communicate. That nearly broke us!
My lot are dreaming up all sorts of other ways round the problems. So fingers crossed and we'll all still have a jolly drinks Christmas.
The power of this Web fair boggles!
When we had this post trouble last; in the Seventies we didn't have any other way to communicate. That nearly broke us!
My lot are dreaming up all sorts of other ways round the problems. So fingers crossed and we'll all still have a jolly drinks Christmas.
Monday, 19 October 2009
Just having a quiet cup of tea at the 40th Anniversary Wine Show
Sounds odd but all after all this tasting gets to you. Forget how many wines. A few hundred. Its very heartwarming seeing so many customers. And they come and thank me. Why do they do that? It’s me as should be saying thanks. Such support!
Amazingly the Laithwaites mob are looking radiantly happy (amazing as many didn't get to bed 'till five). It's meeting so many friendly enthusiasts. It was the dinner they put on for Barbara and I last night. They wouldn't tell us what to expect. What we got was like the Great Hall scene from Harry Potter. Long tables festooned with greenery and candelabra. Lots of candelabra. Delicious roasts. The wine producers were wowed! But only fair when you consider they've come so far (several from New Zealand) just to stand up and pour wine all weekend. They deserve at least a nice meal.
We all got given a glass of Champagne on the door. We all thought it was nice. But it wasn't Champagne. It was Theale Vineyard English!
My Auntie Nell came. Can't believe. She's 95 and comes to a 300 wine tasting. That's Lancashire farming stock for you! The farm she and Uncle Noah ran at Rivington was my favourite place on earth when I was a boy.
Must get back to the taste, spit, greet, thank routine. Will be on autopilot by nine tonight. It's so fantastic though. It feels like a dream.
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
Amazingly the Laithwaites mob are looking radiantly happy (amazing as many didn't get to bed 'till five). It's meeting so many friendly enthusiasts. It was the dinner they put on for Barbara and I last night. They wouldn't tell us what to expect. What we got was like the Great Hall scene from Harry Potter. Long tables festooned with greenery and candelabra. Lots of candelabra. Delicious roasts. The wine producers were wowed! But only fair when you consider they've come so far (several from New Zealand) just to stand up and pour wine all weekend. They deserve at least a nice meal.
We all got given a glass of Champagne on the door. We all thought it was nice. But it wasn't Champagne. It was Theale Vineyard English!
My Auntie Nell came. Can't believe. She's 95 and comes to a 300 wine tasting. That's Lancashire farming stock for you! The farm she and Uncle Noah ran at Rivington was my favourite place on earth when I was a boy.
Must get back to the taste, spit, greet, thank routine. Will be on autopilot by nine tonight. It's so fantastic though. It feels like a dream.
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
Friday, 16 October 2009
Conference all day. Had to learn to listen and shut up.
Was lectured about blogs. Apparently doing it all wrong. Need to shut up a bit here too. Get you to reply. Fine by me. OK so tell me what nice wines did YOU find on your Summer Holidays? Anything we should try and import. (Over the years got quite a few wines from customer tip-offs).
See you Friday/Saturday at The Laithwaites Wine Show! Got a few 'returns' if you need tickets.
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
See you Friday/Saturday at The Laithwaites Wine Show! Got a few 'returns' if you need tickets.
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
Thursday, 15 October 2009
We did the first part of Barbara and Cherry’s harvest at Wyfold on Saturday.
Their first vintage was in 2006. Not seen a bottle yet though. (Warning to all who fancy getting into English Fizz. It takes a LOT of time.) Next Sunday, fingers crossed, we do the Chardonnay and 2009 is finally all in.
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
Friday, 9 October 2009
Can you remember when you'd limp, gasping off a sports field, feet swollen, legs gone, back bent, arms bruised, scratched, bleeding, sore all over?
Well it's like that with grape harvesting in France. I had to go off for the early bath yesterday.
But it's all OK if you've won. And this year we've won. Almost all of us.
Young Clare, our Bordeaux buyer, has been all over the place and was, last night, going on about it was all such a lovely deep luminescent purple colour she'd fancy wearing it.
Some of us are working on this thought. Certainly, you just stick your hand down through the cap to feel the warmth of the fizzing juice/wine, your arm comes out all dark red. So if we popped Clare in for 5 mins ...?
Seriously though it's a good 'un. We've declared so many 'Vintages of the Century' here that some of us are wary of seeming to do it again. But there are these key indicators. The colour. The strength. (The Puritans will go bananas over the strength but we are not to blame, this is what nature gives us). The smiles. Clare noticed this and she's right; despite a lot of difficulties for many in selling the wine, just making stuff like this makes you happy.
Then there's the sticky roads. Spilt juice on M. Le Maire's new tarmac. And its the first harvest for me when I didn't ever put on my overalls. Even at 8 a.m. It was too warm.
This morning however it finally looks normal; drizzly-grey for the first time. But I'm headed out. Just going past the Terraces of Tertre Daugay where our 'Epiphanie' came from (customers certainly went a bundle on that ... could we do it again please, JMS? Clare?).
I'm off to meet this week's Staff Trip for tasting and lunch at 'La Louviere' (Graves) then on to airport and home.
No rest though. English harvest starts tomorrow! Then next week it's the Great Thrash. I can't see how I can get out of making a speech. But come anyway.
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
But it's all OK if you've won. And this year we've won. Almost all of us.
Young Clare, our Bordeaux buyer, has been all over the place and was, last night, going on about it was all such a lovely deep luminescent purple colour she'd fancy wearing it.
Some of us are working on this thought. Certainly, you just stick your hand down through the cap to feel the warmth of the fizzing juice/wine, your arm comes out all dark red. So if we popped Clare in for 5 mins ...?
Seriously though it's a good 'un. We've declared so many 'Vintages of the Century' here that some of us are wary of seeming to do it again. But there are these key indicators. The colour. The strength. (The Puritans will go bananas over the strength but we are not to blame, this is what nature gives us). The smiles. Clare noticed this and she's right; despite a lot of difficulties for many in selling the wine, just making stuff like this makes you happy.
Then there's the sticky roads. Spilt juice on M. Le Maire's new tarmac. And its the first harvest for me when I didn't ever put on my overalls. Even at 8 a.m. It was too warm.
This morning however it finally looks normal; drizzly-grey for the first time. But I'm headed out. Just going past the Terraces of Tertre Daugay where our 'Epiphanie' came from (customers certainly went a bundle on that ... could we do it again please, JMS? Clare?).
I'm off to meet this week's Staff Trip for tasting and lunch at 'La Louviere' (Graves) then on to airport and home.
No rest though. English harvest starts tomorrow! Then next week it's the Great Thrash. I can't see how I can get out of making a speech. But come anyway.
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
Yesterday in front of BBC cameras we harvested the 2009 Theale vineyard Chardonnay in front of our offices.
Biggest crop ever! Surprising given the summer weather.
Theale Vineyard Sparkling Wine is a most surprising wine. Its competition success makes in one of the very top English sparklers and it seems it can beat good Champagne in the International Competitions.
Not bad for a Berkshire vineyard built on rubble and surrounded by warehouses and the Southern Railway.
How I wish we had acres of it! But we've less than one.
Today we have just 681 bottles of the 2004 Theale Vineyard Sparkling for just £22.99. It's taken five years to mature!! If I were you I'd get some. In fact I will get some. A dozen please Max?
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
Theale Vineyard Sparkling Wine is a most surprising wine. Its competition success makes in one of the very top English sparklers and it seems it can beat good Champagne in the International Competitions.
Not bad for a Berkshire vineyard built on rubble and surrounded by warehouses and the Southern Railway.
How I wish we had acres of it! But we've less than one.
Today we have just 681 bottles of the 2004 Theale Vineyard Sparkling for just £22.99. It's taken five years to mature!! If I were you I'd get some. In fact I will get some. A dozen please Max?
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
Wednesday, 7 October 2009
The man who made all this possible
Today would have been Monsieur Cassin's birthday. He'd be getting close to a hundred, now.
I'm thinking of him this balmy 'rest day' between finishing harvesting the Merlot and starting on the Cabernets tomorrow. He's the reason you are reading this. Any of this. Had I been billeted with anyone but M and Mme. Cassin when I arrived in France as a student there would be no Laithwaites. Of that I am quite sure.
I was not, on arrival here, one of those natural born entrepreneurs you read about. I did not have a paper-round or indulge in anything even vaguely money-making as a child. I did not come here to learn a trade or make my fortune. I came on account of the Maigret series on TV. And that hilarious Jacques Tati film; 'Jour de Fête'. And Brigitte Bardot. I just fancied France. No more than that.
But Monsieur Cassin decided to mould me. He'd had a lifetime of British culture running a French trading company in British Africa. Some of our culture he liked; (he knew Shakespeare by heart), some he certainly didn't; (Governor Sherwood-Smith who called him the 'Uppity Frog' and had him arrested).
I was his chance to give a raw Brit some French culture.
He forced me to speak French. Speak or starve, basically. But when I asked correctly they fed me such delights. And introduced me to their culture, (Girls, Bals, French Girls, Fêtes), Not Bardot but ... so different, and, hey, I'd just escaped from a British Boarding School!
Then I got the meal time talks about doing business. I was infected by the enthusiasm. France now; dirigiste, socialiste France is not held to be particularly entrepreneurial. Completely anti-entrepreneurial really. But this was then.
I worked in a winery that Monsieur became manager of when it was bankrupt. I saw how with no resources he turned it right round into a big success. I learned how he broke rules, innovated (being the first producer ever to sell direct to a supermarket made him very unpopular in Bordeaux) and generally baffled the competition.
Then, that fateful day he said "You could do this too, Tony". My mind exploded, and ... Presto! The aimless youth had his life's mission.
And Monsieur's support, when I set off ... I'd post him little dictafone tapes of moans, he'd return them, a master-class in business-studies.
He constantly repeated the word ''Comptabilité" (Accounts!). And I would say "Oui, Monsieur" whilst not doing any at all, until two years in when Barbara came to do them for me.
As we grew he would repeat the new mantra " Faites attention à vos Marechaux"! (He saw me as a bit of a Napleon). We didn't watch them, and, alas, he was right. But we survived.
Ah! Monsieur. What would you think now? 40 years and still going? He wouldn't seem impressed. I'd get a finger-wagging lecture. But I guess inside he'd be happy.
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
I'm thinking of him this balmy 'rest day' between finishing harvesting the Merlot and starting on the Cabernets tomorrow. He's the reason you are reading this. Any of this. Had I been billeted with anyone but M and Mme. Cassin when I arrived in France as a student there would be no Laithwaites. Of that I am quite sure.
I was not, on arrival here, one of those natural born entrepreneurs you read about. I did not have a paper-round or indulge in anything even vaguely money-making as a child. I did not come here to learn a trade or make my fortune. I came on account of the Maigret series on TV. And that hilarious Jacques Tati film; 'Jour de Fête'. And Brigitte Bardot. I just fancied France. No more than that.
But Monsieur Cassin decided to mould me. He'd had a lifetime of British culture running a French trading company in British Africa. Some of our culture he liked; (he knew Shakespeare by heart), some he certainly didn't; (Governor Sherwood-Smith who called him the 'Uppity Frog' and had him arrested).
I was his chance to give a raw Brit some French culture.
He forced me to speak French. Speak or starve, basically. But when I asked correctly they fed me such delights. And introduced me to their culture, (Girls, Bals, French Girls, Fêtes), Not Bardot but ... so different, and, hey, I'd just escaped from a British Boarding School!
Then I got the meal time talks about doing business. I was infected by the enthusiasm. France now; dirigiste, socialiste France is not held to be particularly entrepreneurial. Completely anti-entrepreneurial really. But this was then.
I worked in a winery that Monsieur became manager of when it was bankrupt. I saw how with no resources he turned it right round into a big success. I learned how he broke rules, innovated (being the first producer ever to sell direct to a supermarket made him very unpopular in Bordeaux) and generally baffled the competition.
Then, that fateful day he said "You could do this too, Tony". My mind exploded, and ... Presto! The aimless youth had his life's mission.
And Monsieur's support, when I set off ... I'd post him little dictafone tapes of moans, he'd return them, a master-class in business-studies.
He constantly repeated the word ''Comptabilité" (Accounts!). And I would say "Oui, Monsieur" whilst not doing any at all, until two years in when Barbara came to do them for me.
As we grew he would repeat the new mantra " Faites attention à vos Marechaux"! (He saw me as a bit of a Napleon). We didn't watch them, and, alas, he was right. But we survived.
Ah! Monsieur. What would you think now? 40 years and still going? He wouldn't seem impressed. I'd get a finger-wagging lecture. But I guess inside he'd be happy.
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
Tuesday, 6 October 2009
Ste Colombe. Out on the steepest slopes at eight. Barely light to see ...
But big team so finish by ten. Back to Chai to sort until lunch … However, coach arrives with this week's 'le staf' as they call it here; a tour group of DW staff. Clamber aboard with relief, steer driver through Faugères estate, up round past their one week old 'wine cathedral' to something a bit older.
Parts of Chateau Pressac date from the C15th and it was where we signed the surrender at the end of the 100 years war when we - the English - lost Aquitaine.
Modern history is nicer. I first knew it as a spooky Gothik sort of place perched on its hill so hidden in pines you could only see the turrets. Transylvania -in- Bordeaux. And it made terrible wine. Jean Francois Quentin bought it a dozen years ago, clearered the trees, built terracing and planted 40 hectares. They said he was mad. Terraces! Impossible.
He works those terraces with a horse. He's bought the finest bit of oak forest in France to ensure his supply of prime oak, and done simply everything to take this wine up to Premier Cru standards. Today he was showing off the very latest bit of kit. This one uses lasers and puffs of compressed air to remove any non-perfect grapes. And it goes so fast its a blur. Hey-ho, humans being phased out again!
Fascinating tour and pleasant lunch. This is a very undervalued wine because it’s still unknown.
(Interesting fact; one of the grapes planted at Pressac is called - throughout Bordeaux - 'Pressac'. It came from Cahors. A Monsieur Malbec changed its name to his own and exported it round the world. It found great success in Argentina.)
Walk home to find that, harvesting over, they're having a hen race. Six hens, first back to the pen. Sheila, the favourite, a very smart hybrid, wins.
Catching up on emails and diary. Tonight eating with 'le staf' at 'L'envers' wine bar St Emilion.
Tomorrow is Sunday. I may not get up.
Parts of Chateau Pressac date from the C15th and it was where we signed the surrender at the end of the 100 years war when we - the English - lost Aquitaine.
Modern history is nicer. I first knew it as a spooky Gothik sort of place perched on its hill so hidden in pines you could only see the turrets. Transylvania -in- Bordeaux. And it made terrible wine. Jean Francois Quentin bought it a dozen years ago, clearered the trees, built terracing and planted 40 hectares. They said he was mad. Terraces! Impossible.
He works those terraces with a horse. He's bought the finest bit of oak forest in France to ensure his supply of prime oak, and done simply everything to take this wine up to Premier Cru standards. Today he was showing off the very latest bit of kit. This one uses lasers and puffs of compressed air to remove any non-perfect grapes. And it goes so fast its a blur. Hey-ho, humans being phased out again!
Fascinating tour and pleasant lunch. This is a very undervalued wine because it’s still unknown.
(Interesting fact; one of the grapes planted at Pressac is called - throughout Bordeaux - 'Pressac'. It came from Cahors. A Monsieur Malbec changed its name to his own and exported it round the world. It found great success in Argentina.)
Walk home to find that, harvesting over, they're having a hen race. Six hens, first back to the pen. Sheila, the favourite, a very smart hybrid, wins.
Catching up on emails and diary. Tonight eating with 'le staf' at 'L'envers' wine bar St Emilion.
Tomorrow is Sunday. I may not get up.
Thursday, 1 October 2009
A welcome day off
Given a day off harvesting on account of advanced age and knackeredness. Go down to watch what Chai OK up to. Lots of rushing around and Elvis on full volume. Sauvignon, Roussanne, Grenache Gris, Chardonnay, Viognier, Vermentino, Verdejo ... fermenting away merrily. Maybe Elvis? Yves taking photos of all the poseurs.
Escape yet another big lunch to walk up along the riverbank. Pay respects to old General Talbot at his little monument, where he fell in the battle in 1453 just by the Rauzan ford.
Things haven't changed much on this river since then. You look up river; just trees and water, as always. A mile down river though, the great Chai au Quai gleaming in the midday sun, dominates the view. This is the view the boatmen in their gabares must have been happy to see when bringing down the wine.
Jean-Pierre has got me another old postcard from 1911. Garbares loading hundreds of barrels in front of the Chai. Two little girls watching in their Sunday Best. Like Gigi's.
Not quite so romantic today, but still a lovely spot to soak up the sunshine.
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
Escape yet another big lunch to walk up along the riverbank. Pay respects to old General Talbot at his little monument, where he fell in the battle in 1453 just by the Rauzan ford.
Things haven't changed much on this river since then. You look up river; just trees and water, as always. A mile down river though, the great Chai au Quai gleaming in the midday sun, dominates the view. This is the view the boatmen in their gabares must have been happy to see when bringing down the wine.
Jean-Pierre has got me another old postcard from 1911. Garbares loading hundreds of barrels in front of the Chai. Two little girls watching in their Sunday Best. Like Gigi's.
Not quite so romantic today, but still a lovely spot to soak up the sunshine.
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
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