Christmas Bottles

You Can't Have Your Wine and Drink It

The ‘cellar’ is low. There is still a bit of claret, some champagne, but there is very little burgundy of either persuasion, and no port whatsoever. When we select a wine, in many instances we see it for the last time. We still try to enjoy family feasts, however, and Christmas is the time when we bring out the best.

It kicks off on Christmas Eve, when the tree is brought in and decorated. In theory at least, we are still limited in what we eat by the Advent fast. So, no meat: we had lobster with a saffron-flavoured mayonnaise. With the little goose liver (ahem!) terrine beforehand, there was a bottle of Veuve Clicquot.

To go with the lobsters my wife produced some 2023 Chablis Premier Cru Montmains, a very rich, opulent Chablis made by Jean-Marc Brocard and bottled for the Wine Society. Then with the cheese (Stilton, tomme de Savoie and St Marcellin) there was a wonderful surprise in the form of a 2001 Chianti Rufina Riserva from the Fattoria di Basciano: truly exquisite mature chianti, and seemingly undented by age. It was long and powerful and tasting of black fruits (morello cherries). With my wife’s bûche, a half-bottle of the 2000 Auslese from Schloss Vollrads was not really sweet enough, but there was nothing wrong with either wine or pudding, it was a really beautiful hock, perfectly balancing fruit and acidity.

We then stumbled out to Midnight Mass and belted out the hymns.

It wasn’t long before two a.m. when we got back, and no one got up early. We had our presents around the tree with the Venezuelan pan de jamón which has become a staple. It is the moment to bring out an old bottle of champagne, in this instance the 1996 Moët & Chandon. Again, this was a wonderful surprise: full gold, persistent bead, a nose of dried herbs, white fruits, huge power and length. I have no fears for the second bottle.

Christmas Dinner is eaten around six. We had a 2022 Chablis Premier Cru Les Vaillons from Simonnet-Fèbvre with the duck liver terrine which didn’t really work. The 2022s are not as rich as the 23s and as such, really lovely, classic Chablis. They need possibly three years to show their best. The wine with the heifer rib joint, however, was a crowning success. It was the 1982 Hermitage La Chapelle. The late Gérard Jaboulet was the most generous of men. Twice I recall him opening a bottle of his 1961 when I was in Tain, which an MW once told me was the greatest wine he’d ever tasted. On one occasion he presented me with a magnum of 1978 to drink at the millennium and I think he must have given me this ’82 too. As it was, I wasn’t certain of the date as the label had fallen off, but it was properly recorded on the cork.

I have been complaining about the effects of climate change on northern Rhone wines here. This was as exquisite a Syrah as I could remember and showing no sign of decline after forty-three years. The nose needed little coaxing in the carafe, and then it came out, fruit paste, blackberries and that enchanting smell of great Syrah, and lo! such power! There was nothing frail about it and yet it was sublimely elegant.

After cheese (old Comté, Stilton and vacherin Mont d’Or – again disappointing as it really never ripened properly, just got a bit smellier as Christmas wore on) we went upstairs to watch A Christmas Carol (yet again). We came down to eat a Sussex pond pudding and drink a bottle of Mercier demi-sec champagne. I couldn’t say exactly when I acquired this, but it must have been in the early nineties when I was visiting Mercier and staying at the Royal Champagne. It might have been a very unrewarding experience, but it came out pale amber and with plenty of foam and dealt admirably with the pond, the sweetness of which compensated for the slightest hint of bitterness on the finish of the wine.

Of course, there are twelve days of Christmas, but not all are gastronomically noteworthy. On Boxing Day there was a very lovely 2017 Château Petite Église (second wine of Église-Clinet) with our hen pheasants and a very cheap 50cl bottle of Pantelleria muscat from Duca di Salaparuta accompanied the dessert. On another evening, I tried a 50 cl bottle of Syrah I had been given by the late Paul Triebaumer in Rust in the mid-nineties. Paul was an eccentric figure who ran a grape nursery and was prone to surprising you with new wines from unusual grapes. This one had sadly had it, and ended up in the vinegar vat.

On another night there was half-way-decent Jurançon with Iberico ham and later the same wine with vanilla ice and some controversial runny honey with white truffles. My son made some excellent negronis one evening and on Twelfth Night we had wassail. I think I have now learned the trick with wassail: you must not let it boil; else you will lose the joy-giving alcohol. We were just three, so I baked three Bramley apples, replacing the cores with soft brown sugar and adding a little water and an orange studded with six cloves. When the apples were soft, I poured the liquid into a saucepan with the orange cut in two, about a litre of cider, 100g of sugar, half a cinnamon stick, half a lemon, and a spoonful each of ginger and nutmeg. While it was heating up, I put in a good slug of brandy. I kept checking the heat with my finger. When it was too hot to touch it was ready.

The last two landmarks of our Christmas are New Year’s Eve and the Feast of the Kings (Epiphany). On New Year’s Eve the duck terrine came out again with some 2019 Brand Gewürztraminer from the Cave at Turkheim, which wasn’t wonderful but at least it didn’t get in the way. Then we had the usual north Italian feast of a zampone (stuffed pig’s trotter) with Umbrian lentils, tomato sauce and mashed potatoes. With this we drank a 2018 Amarone from Saveroni. This was far from being the most expensive on the market and yet it was quite delicious, tasting of cherry, chocolate and spice. The 2016 St Emilion Château de Ferrand which we had with the cheese was sadly too cold and even a bit oxidised (another sniff the next day confirmed this – it was possibly a bad bottle), but with our chocolate cake there was Herbert Triebaumer’s 1993 Ruster Ausbruch with its aromas of rosewater and marmalade, which brought the meal to a delicious conclusion.

And finally, there was the Feast of the Kings, after which the tree and decorations are hurriedly put away for another year. The duck terrine was combined with a 1986 Lingenfelder Freinsheimer Goldberg Riesling Spätlese Halb-Trocken. This had ullaged to mid-shoulder and looked dodgy. It was amber-coloured and at first seemed a bit bitter, but it rallied and in the end was quite high spirited. With my galette des rois I opened a 1999 Istvan Szepsy Tokay Esszencia, which was not really wine at all at 2.5 ABV. Still, it was quite a mouthful of dried apricots, fresh apricots and juicy raisins. We might have waited another fifty years for it, but I would not have been around to enjoy the show.

The bottles are all empty now, and I am sad.