Like Team Boris, I’m staying in London this summer
Foolish me. I could have been writing this by the shore of Lake Trasimene, with only one problem: how to…
A wine of Boris’s vintage
My host twinkled sardonically. ‘We’re bound to be discussing Boris. So what’s the right wine?’ I suggested a bunker-busting Australian…
The tastes of summer: polo, Pimm's and plenty of Champagne
England. On a glorious summer afternoon in the Sussex countryside, I had been invited to watch polo at Cowdray Park,…
A toast to the wisdom – and wit – of Norman Stone
We were in a club, discussing Norman Stone, recently departed, over a meal that he would have enjoyed. Norman divided…
Ian Botham's Ozzie Chardonnay is too good for the convicts
Cricket is the most gracious of games. County grounds in the lee of cathedrals, village greens in the perfect setting…
In an era of illusion and fantasy, let the wine do the talking
We had all said everything there was to say about Brexit a hundred times over. So the conversation took different…
Debunking the Greek wine myth
A book, a bottle, a bower set in an ancient garden: you think that if you walked round the right…
Save us from fads and change for change’s sake
There is no new thing under the sun. Over the weekend, I read a book which was alarmingly relevant to…
Finding hope in poetry, politics – and white Burgundy
During the Middle Ages, some of the monastic halls which evolved into Oxbridge colleges allowed their younger inmates to indulge…
Independence for Dorset? I’ll raise a glass to that
There was a shrewd old Tory MP called John Stokes. He was not on the left of the party. Indeed,…
Three Tories gather for a convivial, and consolatory, glass of wine
Three tribal Tories had gathered for a convivial glass, and also a consolatory one. One quoted Huskisson’s verdict after Goderich’s…
Red meat and red wine: the ideal way to spend the first Sunday of Lent
Life is far too important to be taken seriously. At least, that was the conclusion which we meandered towards as…
Twenty years on, the Walbrook is still an enchantment
Early last century, an impoverished youth emerged from the East End. Able and hard-working, he discovered — as many had…
Only the south offers beer lovers a decent pint
We were discussing beer. It is a cheerful subject so I made an appropriate point. In recent years, the quality…
Is wine an art?
Acouple of lawyers were disagreeing about a matter which could become increasingly relevant. Could a sitting president pardon himself? But…
Forget Dry January – if there was ever a month to drink, this is it
January really is the cruellest month. No wonder some fortunate friends have dodged the column of dreary weather and short…
Barolo, the only comfort in a world full of chaos
It appeared to be an uneven contest. A few friends were meeting for a festive wine-tasting, to compare and contrast…
In the midst of Brexit agony, one thing remains certain: disputation needs drink
It is enough to drive a fellow to the bottle. I am not given to agnosticism. My view is that…
Why our soldiers are more impressive than every other kind of leader
One of the pleasures of journalism is the opportunity to meet eminent persons: bankers, businessmen, civil servants, diplomats, politicians, vignerons.…
The paradox of Burgundy
I was trying to remember what I once knew about the theology of the Reformation and especially the various factions’…
How violence in France led to the creation of London’s Courtauld Gallery
Darkness, but not the blanket of the dark. This was a sinister darkness, beset by smoke and flames, by the…
Searching for God in the twilight on the Aegean Sea
My friend Jonathan Gaisman recently gave rise to a profound philosophical question concerning wine. Jonathan is formidably clever. He has…
Disloyal toast: this is the worst cabinet vintage ever
Drink and democracy have one important point in common: an ambivalent relationship with discord. They can mitigate it. They can…
Stockbridge, Hampshire: an unexpected gastronomical haven
‘The doors clap to, the pane is blind with showers / Pass me the bottle, old lad, there’s an end of summer.’…
My host’s reciprocity was almost embarrassingly generous
Peace came dropping slow. I have never regarded west Flanders as part of la France profonde, but here we were,…
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