Diary of a Chevalier

It was the sound of the French hunting horns that got to me....not sure why. Not a hunting man. Not very musical. But those ancient instruments have that deep, rich, slightly scary tone which is more than just a musical sound - it is a stirrer of the blood and piercer of the heart.

My late mother - who was musical - loved the sound of the French horn above all, and made me listen. Maybe that was why I was standing in the dark, in the drizzle, in a great medieval Burgundian courtyard, with a new silver tastevin cup on a red and gold ribbon round my neck, ...trying not to cry! Or maybe it was the emotion of finally getting here to this hallowed place after so many years..

The horns blared out their hunting calls through the night. I loved it. But it got to me.

Tonight I was taken to Clos Vougeot by Alain, Bernard and Francois and inducted as a Chevalier de Tastevin.

It was black tie. The ceremony was short and witty, the company very international, the feelings very warm. The subsequent dinner was long; six delectable courses, six magnificent wines, it was musical and boisterous. All 600 of us joined in all the choruses and waved the arms. Rabelaisian is the word. And indeed the Confrérie des Chevaliers du Tastevin does say it takes its inspiration from that great personage who embodies - lots of body - that part the French character we never have any problems with.

The Irish Ambassador presided over the festivities and he was brilliant. Irish wit in perfect French ... but with a brogue. For my part I was publicly reprimanded by the Grand Maitre, for parental negligence, having misdirected my sons. "One is a brewer! (groans), one is making wine in Bordeaux! (loud groans) ..and one...in Australia!! (very load groans and jeers ...but not serious, I think).

Anyway by the end I knew better than I've ever known why I was not stupid to come into the business of wine. I might argue which wine region does wine best - silly argument anyway - but it is definitely Burgundians who are best at Celebrating The Joy that wine gives us.

Meanwhile, outside, according to the BBC, France was tearing itself apart. Apparently. Are they making it all up? Drove to Lyon, flew home, as did hundreds of other. Pas de problem anywhere.

You don't really want to know what we ate and drank, but well, it's not going to happen often that I get the chance to swallow...

Snails done in a cream of Epoisses cheese
With a white Hautes-Cotes de Nuits 2007

Sandre Roti (I think that is perch)
With a Chablis Premier Cru Vau de Vey 2008

Oeufs en Meurette
With a Santenay 2000

Filet de Daguet (young venison)
With a Gevre-Chambertin 1er Cru Champonnet 1999

Burgundian cheeses (more Epoisses!)
With a Corton Grand Cru Bressandes 2002

A very large snail was then paraded around the room. But it was our dessert; an ice cream sculpture.

Enough.

It's crisp bread and water next week.

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