I drink a lot of wine from The Wine Society. That’s because The Wine Society is bloody good, and you should join it if you haven’t already. However, it seems rather tiresome to write a review of every bottle of Wine Soc booze I sink, especially for those of you who aren’t members (though, as I said, you should be) so instead I plan to run through a few bottles of theirs I enjoyed on a monthly basis. Starting with February.
February always seems to be a month of consolidation for me. That’s partly meteorological (weather that encourages hermithood) and partly financial, insofar as it follows January — a month notable not just for its post-festive belt-tightening, but also the arse-rending existential agony of buying my annual South West Railway season ticket. If there’s a more appalling way to spend more than £5k, please do let me know.
In the South Downs, February was mud and blossom, uprooted trees, sudden breathtaking islands of sunshine in the ocean of grey. And I wanted wine to be the metaphorical equivalent of those rare bouts of sunshine.
Continue reading “The Wine Society vs February”
… will grant you that delicious deep, scented freshness of your garden after a summer rainstorm — but without the risk of some bastard tree dripping down your neck
Inky and polishy — a rugged, straight-down-the-line kind of wine. Full in the gob, spicy, big and macho. Dark fruits and cocoa.
There’s a good dose of that rough, mouth-gripping tannin in there, so this bad boy sits comfortably alongside punchy, rustic fodder. Tomato sauces, meatballs, you know the drill.
‘Rugged’, ‘macho’, ‘rough’ — yeah, alright. But I wouldn’t want you thinking this is entirely a wham-bang-thank-you-ma’am wine.
Take a waft of it, for starters, and you’re met by that delicious, deep, woody, scent-laden freshness you get if you step out into the garden after a summer rainstorm. Except, this way, you don’t get some bastard tree dripping icy water down your neck.
That said, this isn’t your port of call if you’re looking for scintillating complexity. But, um, have you seen how much this costs? Yup. Chuck it down you when you’re after a comforting, grown-up evening fix that’ll blot out the buffets and dents of the day.
??? (3 stars)
£6.50 from The Wine Society