Caves, cricket and a caravan called Coco

Monday. Went down some chalk mines near Henley. I first had a look round these in the 80's when the Government put them up for auction. They'd been kitted out for WW3. Regional Command Centre for when The Bomb dropped.  There were office desks and different coloured telephones, bunk beds and gas masks. I just wanted somewhere cool and stable to store wine, but clearing out all the Dr Strangelove kit was too daunting and we didn't have the money, anyway.

But a nice young chap we knew from his restaurant days did. (He set up what later became l’Ortolan in Reading and did it better than all who followed him). Today, it is very beautiful set of caves.

Chalk is not cut in low passages like other rock but in high gothic naves like curved churches. Just beautiful … white.

Barbara is looking for somewhere to store her bottles of fizz for their long maturation and this place would be ideal. It is identical to the 'crayeres' of Champagne. Solid, dry, and with a temperature that doesn't vary by a single degree all year.  I covet those caves.  But we still don't have the money to spare I guess. Pity, we could have some great parties down there.

A week of meetings and writing. Skip that.

Saturday went with some customers, Gus and Simon to the Test Match at the Oval. England only got one wicket, so not the most exciting of days. We are one of the sponsors.

They have sight screens that change from plain white to the sponsors' sign when bowlers change ends. But if the man is slow to press the switch and some fool has his sign up there in the same colour as the ball!? Then play is held up and everyone shouts at the screen. I tried to hide under my seat at that point but it sure is good for making sure everyone sees your name.

With England being hammered by South Africa it was perhaps not so clever to put our (very) South African specialist Marein on our Laithwaite's Wine Bar. We tried to stop him grinning quite so much, but …

Our bar is now a beautifully converted vintage 'Airstream' American caravan from the 50's. All shiny riveted aluminium.  She's got great curves and is called 'Coco'. Really very cute.

We sell cricket fans a good range of our best known wines by the glass. Also now by the carafe.

Glass bottles are banned at sports events by Mr L. Thansafety so we now decant everything into nice plastic carafes. But I think Mr. L has done us a favour there.

I believe all wine benefits from a splash decant but have not persuaded many it should always be done. Here it’s compulsory. All are getting our wines perfectly served. I think we should sell or give away these carafes - with glass ones as an optional upgrade.

A few years ago I would not have expected to see so many cricket fans queueing for wine when there was plenty beer available. Things sure do move on.

My week ...

… began in France tasting and discussing wine ideas at our place with Jean-Marc, Mark and Mark's friends Norrel MW up from Calatyud and Jean-Charles from Roussillon. Conversations in Catalan I find tricky. Brilliant wines though.

Tuesday, back to London to see our newly opened 'Pop-Up' shop in Borough Market. It’s in the old Market HQ building, unused for years, transformed by my lot in 3 days into a really 'winey' wine shop. Southwark Cathedral is just across the road and they kindly gave us some flowers to add the final touch. The rough wood floors and displays in rough wood boxes, the tables on barrels all remind me of my early shops before we got all posh. I'm very grateful to Susan, the two Toms and all for a fantastic effort turning a 'lemon' (having to vacate our Arch for the Olympics) into lovely lemonade.

So service continues unbroken for our Arch fans. Do go see, you'll be charmed; it’s a great building.A couple of interviews with journalists were set up but only one happened. Normal.

Then off down to Poole for a very memorable tasting right on the tip of Sandbanks. 160 tasters is very impressive for a small town but then … it’s Sandbanks! This was the first tasting run by my boy Tom. He ovecame the nerves; it was excellent. Everyone home happy.

Thanks to Felton Road and Ridgeview for turning up to help and not minding being overwhelmed. Thanks to the customers - lots of lovely chats.

Wednesday I was worried sick all morning, wondering if I'd cock up my on-stage interview that afternoon. Reading's Sports Hall was transformed into the Moulin Rouge for one night and 500 – virtually all 'my lot' – were bussed in from Gloucester, Theale and the shops to sit, sipping a little wine at tables in the blacked-out hall with a brightly lit central stage. There were big screens above and loud music as our two Managing Directors – Simon 'Global' and Glenn UK – each did their 'Steve Jobs' type presentations on our Great Plans as we launch into a new financial year, (having just completed a rather good one).

There were videos of customers and staff. And the presentations were scripted … all except mine. I could've got it SO wrong. But I think I was OK. Just. 

However surprise star of the show was my wife! Barbara has shunned the limelight even more than I have, for 40 years. Now all of a sudden she's a cool stage presenter of awards. What's going on?

Glenn said it; "Move over Tony!"

It’s a plot!

If you don't hear from me again, check out the attic.

We had a party afterwards of course. Never miss the chance for a party is my motto. And again Ridgeview turned up and even Mike MBE himself pouring fizz. Thanks Mike. And Marie, the pretty Split Rock lady came too. And my brewerboy Will brought a few of his mini-kegs.

Ended well. No arrests.

The next morning ignoring the Red Alerts 'Stream Increasing' and weather forecasts, B and I took our friends John and Lindsay for a river trip on old 'Luci' from Henley to Windsor. The old girl set a record time as in parts it was getting on for white water rafting. We moored near Henry's Marlow vineyard – just visible – to share some of Barbara's Wyfold Fizz with him and family for encouragement (its a hell of a year in English vineyards) and flashed onwards.

Picked up a hitch-hiking lock-keeper who told us all about the great towers, new bridge, sealed-off riverbanks and screened off areas around Boveney Lock - usually such a lonely area. Big soldier lads already there for the Olympics. Another soldier greeted us at Windsor; Lindsay's brother; Military Knight up at the Castle, brought us news of General Sir Mike's leaving do. All will miss the great man … who amongst so much else, encouraged us, and helped us to plant the vineyard in The Great Park.

I grew up in Windsor. Nostalgia hit at Romney Lock where my amazingly relaxed parents had allowed me to moor a little old pram dinghy my grandfather had made me, when I was about 12 or 13. I messed about there to my heart's content every summer long. Knew every inch of that bit of river.  

Moored up to our friend Teresa's houseboat for a cosy night out of the rain. The next morning relieved to find Luci had the power to fight the current back home. The rain lashed down, we got drenched, but at least we had the river to ourselves. And we had our Wyfold fizz to warm us.

You can cope with anything … if you have the right wine.

50 Chais au Quai

A hard week of solid rain and non-stop meetings back in the UK: the buyers presenting us with so much new stuff and us trying to work out how we can do it all justice. Then delighted, Friday, to hop on a plane to Bordeaux.  

Bit of a do on at Le Chai to celebrate the year's production, so they wanted Barbara and I to turn up. Can't argue.  A trip out of the rain?

Well … started well, but was raining Saturday morning! Bordeaux does usually get similar weather patterns to us. Just not as bad.

Anyway, all the wise old locals told us it had set in for the day. So … just got on with it. A lot of wines to try. A lot of customers to meet.  Loads of interesting characters. UK-based British, ex-pat local British, French, American, Canadian, Singaporean …

When people visit Le Chai they just 'get' what Laithwaites is about. Quote of the day: "I thought you just did what supermarkets do; now I know better".  

Really, the wines were tasting superb. Bloody marvelous in fact.

It’s SO impressive. Mark had put a bottle of every wine they've bottled this year on a high shelf. "50 Chais au Quai" is a joke (apparently) but really quite an achievement. Because every one of those has had the team’s tender care and cosseting. We had a couple of our growers there. They LOVE what we do to take their rough diamond wines up to the highest levels of finis. 

 

Mark and Jean-Marc have earned their holidays. (Which they have to take now before vintage 2012 begins, maybe next month). 

Andrée's Great Midi Wine Trek: day three

Today we headed into the Minervois to cellars where we've sourced many great wines over the years. There's this old b/w photo I cherish of me and our first supplier, old Jean Cabrol, eating outside. The photographer had insisted we move the table out of their tiny, dark house. Madame might not have been best pleased. But a woman who, every vintage, endured having her marital bed propped up on a slope so Jean could get his grapes down through the trapdoor below, has no real problem with a moved table. 

The Cabrols are gone now, alas, but we work a lot with their successors. Laure-Minervois was where we sourced our Syrah for that very popular dark 'Garage' we made … in the garage at La Clarière, until we moved into Le Chai au Quai. People keep asking if we could bring it back. Well, we do have an empty garage???

We wander about looking at vineyards (which is what we do for a living). Cat takes a fancy to one of the little stone shelters which dot the landscape up here. Take it home? These … I forget their name, sheltered the vignerons during the heat of the day or when the cold wind blew. It was after all, a long walk back to the village.

 

A rather statelier home is the Domaine de Coussergues, not far from Sete at Mont Blanc. Next stop. It was home in the ‘90s to our Midi Flying Winemaker team … not in the splendid Baronial halls but in the vast, dark, cavernous cellars. Jean-Marc started here. The Baron is away but his son gives us the tasting under the watchful eye of Great, Great etc Grandfather, the Admiral.

Then – after a quick visit in Pinet to taste a Picpoul we buy – back up to the hills. This time St Chinian and the marvellous Co-op cellar at Roquebrun. Children were swimming in the river below, the gardens were sub-tropical (this place must have a very mild micro-climate). Schist soils again, climate, old vines; the correct recipe. But, above all, a very talented man in charge. VERY. For me, it’s like another Embres et Castelmaure. Cat loved the wines. Mark and I stuffed as much as we could into the car. (Well worth the discomfort of the rear-seat passenger; me).

We lingered late, again. So the posh hotel wouldn't feed us and we finished up sneaking in the pizzas. But that was fine. I'd have fallen asleep at the table anyway. There are times when fast food is better.

  

Great trip, Andrée. Thanks. Lots of ideas. Cat really loves this region and is now v. fired up to bring in a collection of 'The Midi's Finest'. I quote her "if I had £15 to spend on a bottle from anywhere in the world. No question, it would be from The Midi". Right, Cat my love; let's see how many we can persuade to join us in that!

All interested should give us a call, we'll note your name and make you a very special offer. 

P.S. Cat's just gone to Chile for a couple weeks work but will still be working on the Midi.  

Andrée's Great Midi Wine Trek: day two

From Roussillon, Andrée took us over the pass into the high Corbières. Love the high valleys with their ruined castles and tight clustered villages like Cucugnan and Tuchan. They can get more flavours in their wine up here than lower, warmer parts of the region … alas, not very profitably.

There's hardly anything but co-ops can survive up here. Crops are tiny, prices low. And plenty of those have shut. The place doesn't look as dirt poor as it once did. But I reckon it’s still Tuchan and go whether winemaking will survive up here.

We spend a morning being shown around all the different geological zones by the Tuchan agronomist. Great terroir. The tasting goes well.  But they're very anxious. They need some added magic here. 

We then go on to a little village which for Andrée, me and anyone I've ever taken there, has that magic. Embrés (pron. om-bress) is not especially pretty. It’s small, with no shops or bars or anything. The communal co-op winery is small. And looks unexceptional. The magic of the place is its people. This is one feisty little village which, when I first saw it, I thought would soon die. Or become just holiday homes. Same thing really.

But this big hairy bear of a guy called Bernard Peuyou had come to run the co-op. A poverty-stricken little co-op in the back of beyond? Most oenology graduates who land a job like that work hard to get out fast and into somewhere bigger that people have heard of. 

Big Bernard serves at his bar ... we listen agog

Patrick

Peuyou wasn't like that. He bonded with the place … and its new, young President – elected by the co-op members. Patrick had come here from a successful career and easy life elsewhere to live in the wild hills and cultivate his vineyards and grow his own veg.  You get odd people who do that. Patrick was a romantic, bit of an artist, kind, cultured, very inspirational.

Together they decided this village was not to die. The wine co-op – its only source of income – would remain open and indeed prosper. As it should because the most of the soils here are very good. Very good. Schiste mostly. That odd looking stuff;  geological Wall's Vienetta, that people were beginning to realise could be up there with Medoc gravels, Burgundian limestone and Champagne chalk as stuff you would ideally plant your vines in.

Buyer Cat in a typical schist vineyard

Bernard had an early Apple computer and set about analysing and mapping the soil, height, aspect, climate, cépage of every little patch of vines in the village. That's not uncommon now, but back then it was a first. Brilliant. Their plan was to ensure the survival of the best-but-often-less-profitable vineyards by paying a premium for their fruit. Also to be able to advise growers planning a replant which varieties and clones would be best on their site.

I began to buy loads of their wine. We were their main customer. But as their improvements began to produce better wines they found other customers and their prices rose. Which they had to if the village was to survive.

I am ashamed to say that at that point I rather lost interest and went elsewhere. We baulked at the idea of asking customers to pay a higher price for Corbières when there was an ocean of cheaper - though less good Corbières around.  I made a mistake there. I should've stuck with them. They are the best.

Years later I realised this. Or our buyer did. So now we are back. Their range has expanded. They do brilliant and witty labels and boxes too. And the workmen are welding together the final bits of their new Stainless steel winery extension.  

Lunch at Patrick's. Under the pergola. Cheese, saucisson, bread, wine and reminiscences. I'm not an emotional person but I was a bit today.

Tour the vineyards in mad Englishman heat in Patrick's famous red landrover - acquired when the fire station shut. Please get some brakes fitted.

Load up our car with 'Pompadour' for our summer in France. Then a long and winding road to Narbonne, La Clape and 'Saintex' as Andrée calls Monsieur de St Exupery at Pech Celeyran. This is – or was – a richer area altogether. There are massive C18th and C19th Chateaux here. Aristocratic estates, elegantly faded and frayed. The St Exupery family are very enterprising and daring. Planted exotic varietals. Opened a brewery. And their olive oil is gorgeous.  

We sit, chat and taste their vast range outside, on the terrace with accompanying bats. Plates of home cooking keep appearing at random from the dark. Endlessly. And more wines are found to try.  It’s 2 a.m. before we stagger to our hotel.

Andrée’s Great Midi Wine Trek: day one

The greatest vineyard in the world is not known for great wines. The French Mediterranean vineyard stretching from the Rhone valley to the Spanish border called Languedoc -Roussillon or just the 'Midi' is known for inexpensive wines.  There are a lot of good wines in the Midi – the trick is to find the good winemakers.

But, excitingly for me because I drink them myself even if I have so far not managed to sell many, some great Midi wines do now exist. I've spent my wine life intently watching them come into being. Mostly through the eyes and taste buds of my friend Andrée Ferrandiz who today, after 40 years, is giving up being a merchant here. . But she is too enthralled by the evolving wine story in the Midi ever to give up her life's passion. So she'll continue to guide us and this week, she's taking our Midi buyer Cat Lomax into her confidence and taking her to where the greatness - the real treasure - is emerging.

I'm not missing out on this so I'm tagging along. And I've invited my photographer friend Yves Gellie along too. Now him, I've known nearly 50 years! See his website and his shows; he's very good – preparing to do a job on vineyards for Unesco – but I still can't stop telling this artist how to do his job! Ah, the wonderful rows we have!

We started in Banyuls where vineyards dip steeply down almost into the sea on the Spanish border. We met Bruno Cazes. In his vineyards which you see tumbling down steep terraces just across the bay from the little town. I told him I'd coveted his vineyard for 40 years. He looked at the flabby, pale old Brit and smiled politely. This lean, sinewy brown man cultivates 11 hectares entirely by hand and on foot - any wheeled or tracked vehicle would destroy the ancient dry stone terracing. A visiting Chinese delegation were amazed, he said, to see him and his family harvesting his crop climbing with huge hods of grapes on their backs in baking heat. They thought nobody in soft Europe worked like that anymore. His grapes go - sadly, no longer by rowing boat - to an old winery called L'Etoile in the town. Well, worth a visit.

The place has never changed in all the years we have dealt with them. They make strong wines. Either dry 'Collioure' or sweet 'Banyuls'. Not cheap but very impressive. The sweet wine – usually 15 or 16 degrees – is one of the world's great socialising wines. Just a chilled bottle of Banyuls with a bar of chocolate makes for a memorable evening with friends. Try it.

The best wines age for many, many years. They even age them for a couple of years or so in big glass bottles on the roof, in full sun. That speeds up the aging like tenfold!  I really don't know any other wines that could survive such treatment.

These wines are indestructible and last forever as far as anyone knows. All those thinking of buying wine for their newborn can invest in this wine knowing the child will be able to really enjoy it throughout their adult life.

It's all to do with the soils. Schist! No, it's a type of rock.

Rock like millefeuille pastry on which little grows except vines. Tough, feisty varietals like Grenche, Syrah and Carignan can slide their little roots deep down through its flaky layers in desperate pursuit of water in this arid landscape. They get their water... and also a wealth of minerals that work miracles in the wine. No-one understands quite why in any detail, really, but in the vast – and geologically very scrumpled-up Midi, where schists come to the surface, it is there you find the potential for Greatness.

I don't realise it as we begin our trip but this is going to be I now see, a trip round the schists! Brown, black, purple or green. And pronounced sheests.

We travel on through Perpignan and up the Agly Valley to Maury. Home of our famous XV and another great schist source of Vins Doux Naturels. The village co-op winery there in its splendid cellars in the old Train Shed (roof by Eiffel)  can supply me my birth year wine ('45). I am sure they could've supplied my Dad's, even Grandad's, birth years except so much went missing in the war. 

Mark Hoddy our Chai winemaker who is now in charge of the XV and other wines was with us, too. His technical skills will be key to our future work here.  He showed us round the special patches of vines from which he sources his XV fruit. He also showed us the little house where he once lived for three years desperately trying to make a living from vines that produce a tenth of what a good Bordeaux vineyard will yield.

The lady next door dropped her broom and rushed out to embrace him; not so dour as many Maurizians?

We had a drink in the Cafe des Sports.  Mmm, I've known friendlier bars. Still, that's probably an effect of the incessant maddening wind here; the 'Vent de Folie' as Mark calls it. And calls the wine he makes in his friend Jean-Charles' tiny cellar. Today, touching 40 degrees, Jean Charles has left the vineyard where he's been since 5 am.... to go fishing. So sadly we miss him out and spend the evening with Herve Sabardeil in the dream 'Grand Designs' inside/outside home he and Jean-Baptiste have made out of an old open barn and yard right in the heart of a lovely village. Hilarious evening beside their inside/outside pools with friends, amazing wine and food, sparrows fighting, swallows swooping and Hervé's little pet frogs making an unbelievably deafening attempt to dominate the conversation.