Time to think big

Manage some magnums? Medics and the wine trade love them, along with tawny port, as Jonathan Ray discovers

CRIKEY, I had to dig deep last Sunday. I’ve never known such a thirsty bunch. They were insatiable. There were only eight of us to lunch but we – they – managed to get through titanic amounts of vino and it was a full-time job dashing up and down stairs to grab enough to keep them fully fuelled.

Most of the party were senior doctors, which probably accounts for the high level of consumption. I don’t know about you but I’ve yet to meet a teetotal – or even an almost-teetotal – medic.

I’ve only myself to blame. When Tim rang to ask what he could bring, I told him simply to bring his drinking boots as I proposed serving wine in magnums only. He responded by not only bringing said boots, brightly polished, but also a magnum of his own 2014 Meerlust Rubicon, a peach of a red from South Africa.

I love magnums. They are a statement of intent and there’s no question the wine therein tastes better. It’s not just that the wine ages more slowly (and, like a slow-cooked stew, tastes all the better for doing so), the magnum also acts as its own decanter in aerating the wine. We all know that the last glass of every bottle is the tastiest, helped in no small part by being the most exposed to oxygen, and so the last glass of any magnum is tastier still with even more air to less wine.

Well, last Sunday we had a magnum of mighty Bollinger, one of 2017 Domaine Poisot Pernand-vergelesses Blanc (glorious burgundy that I bought en primeur from Private

Cellar) and then the Rubicon. When that ran out I opened a magnum of 2014 Hochar, the ridiculously tasty second wine of fabled Chateau Musar in the Lebanon.

Folk in the wine trade always head straight to a magnum. It’s just as my old chum Tom Cave of Berry Bros & Rudd told me: everyone loves a big bottle.

And I’ll tell you what else the trade is bonkers about and which my guests knocked back without blinking on Sunday, and that’s port. Sales are booming, not only of vintage port – which, despite appearances to the contrary, never goes out of fashion – but also of tawny port.

We had some sublime Taylor’s 10 Year Old (not in magnum, sadly, although these are available for around £45), which hit the spot just so. Most of the table ummed and ahhed, saying that port was too heavy and had I anything else? But once I’d wafted a glass under their beaks, the bottle was gone.

I served it lightly chilled with cheese and tarte tatin. Tawny port doesn’t need decanting, is lighter than vintage port and so nutty and raisiny, it’s nigh on irresistible. And, given it’s 20%vol and a mere £22 a bottle, it’s remarkable value, too.

What else are the old soaks in the wine and restaurant trade drinking? Dry Furmint from Hungary is going down a storm, cropping up on wine lists everywhere. Do look out for it. The best examples are fresh, vibrant and complex with a delicious underlying salinity. They’re great with food, too.

Talking of which, Grüner Veltliner from Austria is a famously fine partner to all manner of grub, combining the lusciousness of Pinot Gris, the bouquet of Riesling and the acidity of Sauvignon Blanc. It’s great with fish but also matches meat dishes. Try it with a hearty goulash, say, and tell me I’m wrong.

German Pinot Noir (known there as Spätburgunder) is gaining a name for itself (Corney & Barrow, Justerini & Brooks and Yapp Bros all have corking examples), whilst New World Pinot just gets better and better (and cheaper and cheaper). Try Berrys’ own-label Australian Pinot Noir or Cono Sur’s Bicicleta Pinot Noir from Chile, which you can pick up in the supermarket for little more than £6.

Fine Beaujolais is finally being taken seriously (Henry Fessy is a favourite of mine, with vineyards in all 10 of the Beaujolais villages); the Rhône Valley and Rioja both continue to offer extraordinary value when compared to Bordeaux or Burgundy, and Greece continues to impress, with the white grape Assyrtiko being stocked by everyone from Majestic to the Wine Society.

English still wine (Chardonnay and Bacchus), low sulphur, low alcohol wines and non-champagne fizzes known as crémants are all increasingly popular. We’re finally understanding the amazing regionality of Australia (head to Margaret River, I say, which makes 1% of the country’s wine but 20% of its premium wine) and South Africa is going great guns with, in particular, Pinotage shedding its tired image and becoming a grape of great beauty.

Oh, and if you’re looking for an alternative to Albariño and Picpoul then make a beeline for Godello, from Spain. That’s where the trade is putting its money. Just saying.

Folk in the wine trade always head straight to a magnum. Everyone loves a big bottle.