Wine media: time for an honest reappraisal

It's interesting how certain items of news about the wine media seem to have got everyone all a twitter. The Observer newspaper has announced that they are reducing the length of Tim Atkin's column and a notable guide to Spanish wine (Peñin) will now only be published online. What's more, last year Condé Nast's Gourmet magazine was axed and over the past few years the presence of wine commentators in British newspapers has dramatically dwindled.

I have spent a large proportion of my career either working in wine media or on the fringes of it. After a few years in wine retail, in 1995 I joined Mitchell Beazley publishers where I edited books such as Hugh Johnson's Pocket Wine Book. I worked with a broad range of specialist writers and experts. Within the wine trade, these were all highly respected, courted 'celebrity' figures who all continued to be extremely important once I moved into public relations. This was rarely the case outside the confines of our world. Of all the writers I worked with, only Hugh Johnson, Jancis Robinson and Oz Clarke would have any relevance to most of my personal acquaintances. If you asked people in the street, I doubt whether many would have heard of them (although Oz Clarke's name might have rung a bell!).

The wine trade values the press enormously and unreservedly. Third party endorsement plays a key role in marketing such a complicated product to the public, especially in the UK where consumers often find themselves overwhelmed by the choice of wines available. Despite being aware of the limited circulations of specialist publications such as Decanter (approximately 40,000), I'd be interested to know what proportion of these figures is made up of members of the wine trade. Wine is no longer a niche product, but wine appreciation is most certainly a niche activity and a tiny proportion of consumers want to read about it; they just want to drink it. How much time do you spend reading about music, for example, as opposed to listening to it? Probably very little.

Whereas wine in the print media is becoming increasingly limited, the internet is the perfect arena for current coverage of niche subjects. Mentioning Jancis Robinson again, here we have an example of someone who recognised this early on. Her website with its subscription-only 'purple pages' is kept entirely up-to-date and she even has another Master of Wine, Julia Harding, working as her assistant, enhancing her impressive authority. Other British wine websites such as Jamie Goode's wineanorak.com, Tom Cannavan's wine-pages.com and Drinking Outside the Box on simonwoods.com (especially the podcasts) are also well regarded and have strong followings. An exciting recent addition is thewinegang.com which, in the light of the gradual demise of newspaper wine columns, is an obvious development. Several wine writers are involved (including Joanna Simon, ex-Sunday Times, and the aforementioned Tim Atkin) which allows visitors to the site to latch on to the writer whose taste most chimes with their own. Then, of course, there are the numerous food and wine bloggers out there.

Despite being slow to acknowledge its rapidly growing power, the wine trade has much to gain from new media. Whereas print media is generally a one-sided form of communication, online you can generate useful dialogues with your consumers and monitor their reactions to your products. As for the wine press, well-informed, passionate communicators will always have a voice, whatever the medium.

Claret: love of a lifetime, not just for lunchtime

My great love affair with French wines began with Burgundy (elegant, sensual wines that evoke specific historic vineyards) and, more affordably, the Loire Valley where I spent a year as a student – again deliciously elegant wines that articulate a sense of place. Gastronomy in general also plays a great role in these regions and you feel these are places where you are encouraged to indulge yourself. Bordeaux seemed different. It always hovered on the radar, but had an off-putting upright, somewhat mean presence. It's traditional airs seemed more suited to gentleman's clubs than my modest table and terms like 'luncheon claret' made me bristle.

After nearly 20 years things have changed. It's not that I don't still passionately adore Burgundy, but I have found a large space in my heart (and 'cellar'*) for Bordeaux. I've come to realise is that Bordeaux is deeply and reliably satisfying and, surprisingly so, right across the price spectrum (perhaps due to improved winemaking and global warming). I've also had the privilege of visiting the region as a Master of Wine student and had the opportunity of tasting some truly outstanding wines.

What I love about red Bordeaux is its neat restraint and poised structure that happens to be delicious with some of my favourite food; I am particularly partial to the cigar box complexity of maturing great claret. Just recently we had some mutton chops with a bottle of Château La Tour Carnet 2001. Refreshing acidity, subtle earthy berry fruit and mellowing tannins. Beautiful. If you like unadorned, high quality meat (especially lamb), Bordeaux is a wine for you. What's more it it isn't too alcoholic, only reaching 12.5 to 13 degrees. I also get a huge thrill drinking particularly mature wines (especially when they're at least as old as me – says she born in a decent vintage year).

As Bordeaux is such a large wine region (until recently producing more wine than Australia) and draws on a useful palette of grape varieties, it offers the consumer a lot more scope than Burgundy, for example. If you're able to lay down cases of wine for the future, it makes a lot of sense to buy 'en primeur' and a bottle price of  £10 to £15 will get you some lovely age-worthy wine. For this price, of course it won't be a glitzy famous name, but it will give you several years' memorable drinking. My La Tour Carnet cost about £12 per bottle and a quick look on Winesearcher.com showed that it would now cost £20 to £25. More recently we bought some clarets from our daughter's birth year, 2006, which we are looking forward to start drinking in two or three years' time (bearing in mind that great claret benefits from a decade or so). I like to see it as investing in your future enjoyment.

* My 'cellar' is currently a great big mother of a refrigerated wine storage cabinet accommodating about 20 cases.


Here are a some current suggestions. (Prices are for mixed cases of 12.)

Waitrose Reserve Claret 2007 (£5.02): light, soft and fruity for everyday drinking.

Christian Moueix 2005 Bordeaux (The Wine Society £7.95): good value Merlot-based wine from the same producer as Château Pétrus, star of the Right Bank.

Château Liversan 2006 Haut-Médoc, Cru Bourgeois (Waitrose £8.54 on offer until mid Feb): juicy, succulent great value Cabernet-based wine.

Dourthe Barrel Select 2007 St-Emilion (Waitrose £9.49): lovely example of Right Bank from a highly reliable Bordeaux label. Still quite youthful.

Château Moulin à Vent 1999 Moulis-en-Médoc, Cru Bourgeois (Majestic Wines £10.99): an excellent price for a handsome, mature wine for drinking now.

Château Léoville Las Cases 1990 St Julien 2eme Cru Classé (Majestic £220): a truly great, thrilling example of the best Bordeaux has to offer. Robert Parker awarded this wine 96/100. One for very special occasions (and deep pockets)!

Bottles lined up for a tasting at Château Cantemerle in 2003

(The top picture shows the haunting Miss Havisham-like old cellars at Château Lafite)

Macaroni cheese: the ultimate comfort food

Here in the UK we've been treated to practically Arctic winter conditions, so rich, warming, comfort food has been featuring everywhere. Inspired by this, leading food and drink writer, blogger and passionate cheeselover, Fiona Beckett, is currently trying to find the best version of uber comfort food, macaroni cheese (http://thecheeselover.blogspot.com). Personally, I like mine really cheesy with lots of sauce and here I've balanced the richness with some red onion. I've stuck to mature cheddar as it's beautiful to cook with, and the stronger the better. The cheese and breadcrumb topping includes mustard powder for some extra bite. We enjoyed this with some mixed salad leaves.

400g macaroni (I used schioppi: fairly large ridged tubes)
3 medium red onions, sliced
40g butter
30g plain flour
500ml milk
salt and freshly ground black pepper
300g strong cheddar cheese, grated
4 tablespoons breadcrumbs
1 tablespoon mustard powder

Preheat the oven to 180°C.

Cook the macaroni in a large pan of boiling salted water until just tender. Drain.

Meanwhile, melt the butter in a heavy based pan and cook the sliced onions until soft and translucent. Add the flour and cook, stirring for a minute or so before gradually adding the milk. Bring to the boil, allow to simmer for a couple of minutes and keep stirring (especially to prevent the onion from catching on the bottom of the pan). Season the sauce with salt and pepper and add 200g of grated cheese. Stir the sauce well and gently combine with the cooked macaroni.

Turn the macaroni cheese mixture into an ovenproof dish (mine holds about 2 litres). Mix the rest of the cheese with the breadcrumbs and the mustard powder and sprinkle generously over the macaroni. You might need to increase the amount of topping according to the size of the dish.

Bake in the oven for 20–30 minutes or until golden brown and bubbling. Serve piping hot. We had salad, but it's also great with baked tomatoes (which can cook at the same time). Serves 4.

A note about wine:
I had a hunch that some maturing white Burgundy might work nicely with this and help add to the sense of occasion. Our Rully 1er Cru 2000 Les Cloux (Vincent Girardin) was complex, buttery, nutty with a mineral backbone and refreshing acidity. Absolutely delicious with the rich macaroni cheese: luxurious, yet poised and elegant.

As a contrast we also tasted the much simpler Réserve de la Saurine 2008 Vin de Pays du Gard as we had a bottle already open. It was fresh and had a quite an interesting, slightly savoury style and was pleasantly cleansing, but overwhelmed by the food.

Out of interest, a couple of evenings later, we opened a bottle of Anjou Le Haut de Garde 2006 (Château Pierre-Bise) to enjoy with the leftovers. There was a drop of the Rully left to taste against it. My husband loved the Anjou Blanc with the food, although I found it a bit too opulent and honied, despite its distinct minerality and fresh acidity. The Rully won hands down for me!

Pomegranate molasses, Château Musar and memories of Lebanon

This week, at a Christmas party at my daughter's nursery, I was chatting to another parent about unusual ingredients available at a local food shop, Phoenicia in Kentish Town. Pomegranate molasses was mentioned as he fancied the sound of it, but wasn't sure what to do with it. This took me straight back to an extraordinary holiday in Lebanon. We went as wedding guests of the Hochar family of Château Musar and spent several memorable days in this fascinating country. As soon as we arrived in Beirut we went straight out to get some food. Despite being quite late in the evening, it was still very warm and, sitting outside in a bustling street, we enjoyed a fabulous spread of mezze that included chicken livers cooked in pomegranate molasses. As it was so distinctive (and as I love offal) I have tried to recreate this dish back in London, quickly sautéing the livers in a hot pan, pouring in some of the molasses to coat and almost glaze them – delicious. As the dish is quite rich, it's probably best served with wedges of lemon with some fresh parsley sprinkled over or, if you find the pomegranate molasses too cloying, you could add a splash of balsamic vinegar during the cooking to make the dish a bit more tangy. With a slice of toasted sourdough bread and a handful of some green leaves (watercress would ideal) this is a really tasty starter or light supper.

Late-night mezze in downtown Beirut.

Woman making flatbread.

Bottles ageing in the cellar at Château Musar.

Lunch at the Hotel Palmyra after visiting Baalbek.

Late afternoon in Byblos.

Port and the magnificent Douro

Now with Christmas almost upon us, I've been busy stocking up on plenty of goodies to eat and drink. Depending on your taste, certain things become staples at this time of year and in our household port is a particular favourite. It's great having a bottle handy to serve at the end of a meal with some cheese, nuts, dried fruit and chocolate or just to sip slowly at the end of a busy day. I absolutely adore complex, nutty, mellow tawny port – the older the better, but I also love sweeter, fruitier vintage port and seeing how it evolves with time. Either way, it's a warming, soothing treat.

A few years ago I was lucky enough to be included in a visit to Porto and the Douro organised by the Symington Family, producers of Graham's, Dow's, Warre's, Quinta do Vesuvio and Smith Woodhouse. I joined a party of leading sommeliers and we stayed at the elegant, historic Quinta dos Malvedos, having taken the train up the Douro valley from the city of Porto. This journey along the river is truly breathtaking and combining it with a couple of days in the characterful, bustling city of Porto would make an ideal trip for a long weekend. The cultural significance of these places has been formally acknowledged as the historic centre of Porto and the Douro valley vineyards are now classified as UNESCO World Heritage Sites.

It's almost ironic how this wild, dramatic, sunbaked region produces a wine so suited to winter drinking and I hope these pictures, taken during our springtime visit, provide a bit of warmth on a cold December day.

Looking across the Douro to Vila Nova de Gaia from our hotel in the Ribeira district of Porto.

Enjoying the journey.

Steep terraced vineyards typical of the valley.

Pinhão station.

This detail of traditional local tiling depicts the grape harvest.

Leaving Pinhão station.

Arriving at Vesuvio station.

Quinta do Vesuvio.

Early evening drinks on the terrace at Quinta dos Malvedos.

A view of the valley showing the dry, flaky schistous soil.

Another view of the Douro.

Back in Porto looking across the river towards the port lodges (with brand names on the roofs).

Spiced carrot soup with lime: winter warmth with an exotic twist

Big fanfare: this is the first recipe I've posted on the blog. Despite sounding a bit mundane, it ticks so many boxes. This is seasonal, warming, healthy, inexpensive and utterly delicious (that's why it's here!). If you read my recent review of Texture, you'll have seen what's possible with dull, worthy sounding winter vegetables. Here we have the humble carrot – read on to see what you can conjure up quickly and easily for a tasty lunch. You could even serve it as a starter for a dinner party as it looks so enticing with its deeply autumnal, yellow/orange colour which is complimented by the nuts (ideally with a glass of aged amontillado sherry). It freezes well, too – I pour a ladle or two into freezer bags for individual servings. I've cooked versions of this for many years, but this recipe is based on one I recently found in Sainsbury's Magazine, but I'm afraid I can't recall the author as the name doesn't appear on my torn-out page. The fresh ginger and lime provide a tangy, aromatic lift to the already complex flavours.


2 onions

oil for frying

2 garlic cloves, chopped

2 tsp peeled and grated ginger

1 tsp ground cumin

1 tsp ground turmeric

1-2 tsp ground cinnamon

1kg carrots, sliced (you can leave the skin on if you like, but make sure they've been washed and scrubbed)

1.5 litres chicken or vegetable stock

to finish:

1 tsp brown sugar

juice of 1 lime

sea salt to taste

Peel and roughly chop the onions and add to a large pan of warmed vegetable or olive oil (sometimes I'll use chicken or duck fat if I have some handy in the fridge). While they are cooking, add the garlic and, once the onions are translucent, add the spices. Continue cooking, stirring, for a couple of minutes, then add the carrots and stock. Allow to come to the boil, then reduce the heat, cover and gently simmer until the carrots are tender (over a low heat you could leave it for 30 minutes to an hour). 

Using a hand blender liquidise the soup until smooth. Stir in the sugar, lime juice and season with the sea salt. The soup is now ready to serve or can be allowed to cool and be frozen.

I like serving the soup with a spoon of yoghurt (or crème fraîche) stirred through and sprinkled with toasted cashews or pinenuts. The original recipe suggests seasoning with some of the Moroccan spice, sumac, just before serving which adds even more fragrant tanginess. Gorgeous.