Members’ clubs and wines in St James’s
The opening of the wine-focused 67 Pall Mall club a year ago put a new spin on the centuries-old traditions of London’s exclusive private club scene, says Jonathan Ray
London’s private clubs give great value access to wines, says Jonathan Ray – not least at the newest, 67 Pall Mall
AT THE SOPHISTICATED heart of London’s West End, the neat rectangle of St James’s – bordered by Piccadilly, Lower Regent Street, Pall Mall and St James’s Street – has been a highly desirable place in which to live, work and play since the 17th century. There could hardly be a better choice of location, then, for the opening in late 2015 of a brand new private members’ club for wine lovers, named after its address at 67 Pall Mall.
St James’s has got form on the food and drink front too: the sandwich was allegedly first produced for the 4th Earl of Sandwich as he played cribbage at White’s in the 1750s; Richard Wall (think sausages) opened his first butcher’s stall in St James’s Market in 1786; the Black Velvet, that incomparable midmorning reviver, was created by the barman of Brooks’s in 1861 as an appropriately-hued, potable tribute to the recently-deceased Prince Albert; and – just beyond St James’s, but still in clubland – it was at Buck’s in 1921 that the barman first came up with Buck’s Fizz.
And these gentlemen’s clubs – successors to the coffee houses of the 17th century – still flourish. Clubs such as the Army & Navy (known as the Rag, having been dubbed the Rag and Famish in the 19th century, by a member appalled at the poor quality of its food), the Athenaeum, Boodle’s, Brooks’s, the Carlton, the East India, the Naval and Military (known as the In & Out), the Oxford & Cambridge, Pratt’s, the RAC (a club with such a vast membership that it’s looked down upon by members of more exclusive establishments and snootily termed the Chauffers’ Rest or
Chauffers’ Arms), the Reform (from where Phileas Fogg famously set out on his 80-day journey around the world), the Travellers and White’s, the grandest and oldest of them all, founded in 1693.
Other clubs located nearby, but outside St James’s, include the Beefsteak, Buck’s, the Savile and the Garrick, whose members sport the club’s distinctive ‘salmon and cucumber’ tie. The once raffish but latterly rather staid Arts Club in Dover Street underwent a complete makeover five years ago and is now frightfully chic: more trendy Groucho than trusty old Boodle’s.
Keenly priced wines
Senior members of the wine trade have long been well represented in the members’ clubs of St James’s, drawn as much by the genial company as by the wines on offer. It’s said that a new member of White’s was once greeted by a well-known grandee of the trade saying: ‘How do you do, my name’s XYZ, and in White’s I’m the club drunk, and in the Athenaeum I’m the club bore.’
The clubs certainly do themselves well when it comes to wine. And since they are members’ clubs in the proper sense of the term – owned by the members themselves rather than a group of hedge funders or a bankrolling Mr Moneybags – the wine prices are famously benign.
I’ve been a member of one such club for more than 35 years, joining when I was 19. When I worked at Berry Bros & Rudd I was there every day, bunking off work to play snooker with a mate from Justerini & Brooks. I use it less often these days, as I hate having to put on a collar and tie. But I love the wines.
On a rare visit the other day, I happily served myself at the members’ table (to the brim, natch) with a couple of glasses of an excellent Mâcon-Villages 2014 for only £5 a pop. Ditto the Chapoutier, Côtes du Rhône Villages. And at dinner a few weeks previously we made fine inroads into some Château Cissac 2008 (£25 a bottle) and Fonseca 1994 (£60). There’s a push on the 2003 clarets, which are drinking beautifully and are ridiculously well priced. You can bring your own wine for just £10 a bottle corkage, and there are always deals on cases of fizz, claret and Port for home consumption at Christmas.
One friend of mine at another club remembers changing his bridge night to a Monday in order to take advantage of the special offers at the start of the week. PichonBaron at £60 a bottle was evidently one such treat a little while ago.
And I remember once being taken by another friend to his club on a Thursday. In order to drum up business on what was usually one of the quieter nights of the week, the club was offering clarets at absurd prices. My host told me he’d heard that something from Margaux was on offer, probably Angludet as it was only £50 a bottle. In fact it turned out to be the mighty Château Margaux itself, in a not-bad vintage.
Home from home
These clubs don’t aim to compete with 67 Pall Mall. The wines lists are far shorter, much more claret- and Burgundy-focused and slightly pricier. But there’s much more to do: there’s snooker, backgammon and cards; libraries complete with log fires and pillows, rather than cushions, on the sofas; fine bars and bedrooms; regular members’ shooting days and trips to the Douro, Bordeaux and Champagne; dozens of reciprocal clubs around the world (67 Pall Mall boasts just one).
And if one gets carried away, a blind eye is turned. I remember a sour-faced member
once complaining that he’d seen another member in the dining room feeding his lissom date some crème brûlée with his spoon and some Tokaji from his glass. Poor form, he thought. But the chairman rounded on Mr Grumpy immediately, saying: ‘My dear fellow, if for reasons of economy or eroticism a member chooses to share his comestibles and liquor with his companion, then that is more than acceptable. This is a private club and one is entitled to behave here as one would at home.’ Of course, what 67 Pall Mall and the older clubs do share is proximity to DR Harris & Co, the excellent chemists at 29 St James’s Street. Old hands who overdo the vino know to head straight here next day for a bottle of the ‘Original Pick-Me-Up’, than which there is no finer hangover cure. For those in extremis, they will even sell it by the capful, administered there and then. Jonathan Ray is drinks editor of The Spectator, an author and wine columnist for several magazines