Watching
live, the rowers at Eton Dorney yesterday were so inspiring. The world's best,
live, right in front of me, mortal watching gods and goddesses.
But
afterwards, at lunch in the Windsor restaurant where Peppino Battochi is
celebrating an incredible 50 years of fussing round customers like me (who must
now, of course, eaten half a century's worth of his pasta) I thought “it’s not
just sportsmen”.
"Certainly,
winemakers are like athletes", I thought. Somewhat predictably.
But
… yes! They are. Pretty damned fit, mostly. They too, dream obsessively of
winning gold medals. They too, dedicate their lives to the pursuit of
perfection. Even those whose employers confine them to churning out huge
volumes of boring branded product for Big Retail. They too, still dream … what
could they do if they could save that small parcel – or parcelle – of stressed-
looking grapes from that little patch at the very top of vineyard with the very
white soil? If they got just a few barrels or so. They'd be up all night, after
work, nursing those barrels like newborn babes.
Up
early every day. Not surprising they are fit. Years, they'd devote before
carefully wrapping their creation in a nice bottle and with a mixture of pride
and fear, offering it up for the world's judgement.
Have
they conjured magic from the earth? Or not?
I
set up Red Heads – our winery in Australia – in an unusual way. I didn't tell
the winemakers who came to use its bare facilities what to make. I let them aim
as high as they wanted. I didn't promise to accept their wines. But in the end
I accepted quite a lot. For they made wines I thought were up there with
the world's best.
Red Heads is a Centre For Excellence, an
Academy for wine stars of the future. Just try one bottle. You'll see … taste
world’s best at prices equivalent to the most basic stuff on any restaurant wine
list.
Just
pick one or two of these and add to your next order.
Remember my simple guarantee? Well, take it up
a notch or two. These are great wines. If you don't find them great – if you
think they're just 'nice' – then ask for your money back.
All
McLaren Vale, 2009. All tiny numbers of bottles. All at perfection right now.
I've got many different Red Heads; yet to experience anything but McVale excellence
ReplyDelete