Tony's Diary

Taking weight off feet after excellent inaugual launch tasting of our Hong Kong venture with the South China Morning Post; called 'scmpwine'.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 12:03:00 +0000

On the roof of a restaurant called The Pawn on Johnson Street. Almost 200 turned up to meet us – well, mostly to meet Hugh (Johnson, here with us) and, after a necessary glass of Bollinger (it's unseasonably warm in HK), taste four excellent claret-ish reds. And ... taste them blind. With the chance of a magnum of Bolly if they guessed which was which. Many did. Know their wine here! HK is so exciting!

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Sydney. Arrived last night from Fiji.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 10:49:00 +0000

Been with David Thomas on his boat. Talking wine with my old Guru. Barbara and I had quite a reasonable wine business back in the early eighties. Then one day I got a call from David saying he'd like to start a similar business in Australia, would I help? Well yes. He copied it. Worked OK. Then he introduced his own ideas and it all took off. Made us look sluggish for a while. Had to spend a decade or so catching up. Now happy to say we've powered ahead and they've got stuck. Thank God he retired. To sit with Dave and his Barb on 'Adagio', swimming the reefs, eating the fish. With a big wine fridge on the boat!

The life! (I did try Fiji's 'wine'; the famous Kava drink made from Kave roots. Mmm. I don't think the rest of the world is quite ready for Kava just yet!)

Anyway here's Laithwaites today selling wine in Australia and doing something rather different from David's old Company.

We visit our new Sydney office. Small - though vast compared to the tiny old terraced house they were crammed into last year. Talked to the people on the phone, the buyers, the writers, the logistics (not easy getting wine to the remote north west, apparently) the accounts and all.

Want to see what our lot do in Oz? Try http://www.winepeople.com.au/ and tell your Aussie 'rellys' to give us a try. We're good.

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As things speed up here (Gloucester Cellars now working 24 hrs) for me personally it's a bit of a whirl!

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 10:30:00 +0000

The 40th Show was a Wine Rave! Loved every minute of it. Just couldn't walk at the end! (Tired, I mean, nothing more!) Thanks and love to all there.

Don't know how we did it but at dawn the following day we were out in Wyfold vineyard again, helping Barbara and Cherry bring in their Chardonnay. 3 tons of it. Way up on last year. (Not to mention the '07 zero harvest). Tired? Beyond tired. Zombie.

Monday heading in to a meeting with the whole buying team under London Bridge at Vinopolis but had to divert at Euston to Cumbria; (Mother unwell. But now happily improved). Back Wed for Board Meeting for 2 days, then Friday looking at possible new English vineyard sites with Thierry Lesne; our ex-flying winemaker chum from Champagne. He liked our chalk soils! He loved all the partridges and pheasants he saw. He'll be back.

Last night we had Barbara and Cherry's Vintage Supper in the barn for all or most of their unpaid helpers. All decorated with autumn red vine leaves and berries. Standing by the brazier it was the final, final, end of ends to vintage '09.

Tomorrow we fly to Sydney via Fiji where we are to spend a few days afloat with Barb and my great Aussie mentor; David Thomas. It'll be back to school. But in Fiji so who cares! I don't know how communications work in the Pacific, anyway my Blackberry will be confiscated. So there may be some silence which Rob my web boss will fill with news from home.

Back soon!

Cheering one for the older customer …

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 10:08:00 +0000

Anyone who remembers the old Bordeaux Direct days will remember the old Coq! My original emblem. A cockerel in the shape of a wine glass. Doodled on the back of a wine label while I was chained to the bottling machine in '66. Stuck it on the side of my van in '69. Coq au Vin, really. (I was once asked if I sold wine or chicken!)

Well, the marketing consultants despatched the old coq to poultry heaven ("too French!") when we changed our name to Laithwaites a few years ago. Or so I thought! Turns out old BD fanatics rescued the dear bird and had him frozen.

For our 40th bash dinner for our winemakers there he was again in all his glory. Inside his block of ice. By midnight he still hadn't thawed so I guess he's back in the freezer. One day.. One day my Coq will return.

Reassuring customers we don't deliver via the Royal Mail

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 11:44:00 +0000

The email I sent out about the post strike seems to have reassured customers. Now everyone realises they can get all our offers and lists 'on-line', and understands we do not deliver via the Royal Mail. Business seems to be as good as normal, even maybe slightly ahead.

The power of this Web fair boggles!

When we had this post trouble last; in the Seventies we didn't have any other way to communicate. That nearly broke us!

My lot are dreaming up all sorts of other ways round the problems. So fingers crossed and we'll all still have a jolly drinks Christmas.

Just having a quiet cup of tea at the 40th Anniversary Wine Show

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 10:14:00 +0000

Sounds odd but all after all this tasting gets to you. Forget how many wines. A few hundred. Its very heartwarming seeing so many customers. And they come and thank me. Why do they do that? It’s me as should be saying thanks. Such support!

Amazingly the Laithwaites mob are looking radiantly happy (amazing as many didn't get to bed 'till five). It's meeting so many friendly enthusiasts. It was the dinner they put on for Barbara and I last night. They wouldn't tell us what to expect. What we got was like the Great Hall scene from Harry Potter. Long tables festooned with greenery and candelabra. Lots of candelabra. Delicious roasts. The wine producers were wowed! But only fair when you consider they've come so far (several from New Zealand) just to stand up and pour wine all weekend. They deserve at least a nice meal.

We all got given a glass of Champagne on the door. We all thought it was nice. But it wasn't Champagne. It was Theale Vineyard English!

My Auntie Nell came. Can't believe. She's 95 and comes to a 300 wine tasting. That's Lancashire farming stock for you! The farm she and Uncle Noah ran at Rivington was my favourite place on earth when I was a boy.

Must get back to the taste, spit, greet, thank routine. Will be on autopilot by nine tonight. It's so fantastic though. It feels like a dream.

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Conference all day. Had to learn to listen and shut up.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 07:48:00 +0000

Was lectured about blogs. Apparently doing it all wrong. Need to shut up a bit here too. Get you to reply. Fine by me. OK so tell me what nice wines did YOU find on your Summer Holidays? Anything we should try and import. (Over the years got quite a few wines from customer tip-offs).

See you Friday/Saturday at The Laithwaites Wine Show! Got a few 'returns' if you need tickets.

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We did the first part of Barbara and Cherry’s harvest at Wyfold on Saturday.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 12:19:00 +0000

Lovely weather. And so easy; they had the sense to grow their grapes a metre up, so no bending. Oddly the Pinot Noir was ripe, the Chardonnay not. So we just picked the black grapes. Must've been forty local folk and Laithwaites crowd turned up. All over in 4 hours, grapes packed off to Mike Roberts at Ridgeview, hot soup drunk – and some wine.

Their first vintage was in 2006. Not seen a bottle yet though. (Warning to all who fancy getting into English Fizz. It takes a LOT of time.) Next Sunday, fingers crossed, we do the Chardonnay and 2009 is finally all in.

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Can you remember when you'd limp, gasping off a sports field, feet swollen, legs gone, back bent, arms bruised, scratched, bleeding, sore all over?

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 16:06:00 +0000

Well it's like that with grape harvesting in France. I had to go off for the early bath yesterday.

But it's all OK if you've won. And this year we've won. Almost all of us.

Young Clare, our Bordeaux buyer, has been all over the place and was, last night, going on about it was all such a lovely deep luminescent purple colour she'd fancy wearing it.

Some of us are working on this thought. Certainly, you just stick your hand down through the cap to feel the warmth of the fizzing juice/wine, your arm comes out all dark red. So if we popped Clare in for 5 mins ...?

Seriously though it's a good 'un. We've declared so many 'Vintages of the Century' here that some of us are wary of seeming to do it again. But there are these key indicators. The colour. The strength. (The Puritans will go bananas over the strength but we are not to blame, this is what nature gives us). The smiles. Clare noticed this and she's right; despite a lot of difficulties for many in selling the wine, just making stuff like this makes you happy.

Then there's the sticky roads. Spilt juice on M. Le Maire's new tarmac. And its the first harvest for me when I didn't ever put on my overalls. Even at 8 a.m. It was too warm.

This morning however it finally looks normal; drizzly-grey for the first time. But I'm headed out. Just going past the Terraces of Tertre Daugay where our 'Epiphanie' came from (customers certainly went a bundle on that ... could we do it again please, JMS? Clare?).

I'm off to meet this week's Staff Trip for tasting and lunch at 'La Louviere' (Graves) then on to airport and home.

No rest though. English harvest starts tomorrow! Then next week it's the Great Thrash. I can't see how I can get out of making a speech. But come anyway.

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Yesterday in front of BBC cameras we harvested the 2009 Theale vineyard Chardonnay in front of our offices.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 09:10:00 +0000

Biggest crop ever! Surprising given the summer weather.

Theale Vineyard Sparkling Wine is a most surprising wine. Its competition success makes in one of the very top English sparklers and it seems it can beat good Champagne in the International Competitions.

Not bad for a Berkshire vineyard built on rubble and surrounded by warehouses and the Southern Railway.

How I wish we had acres of it! But we've less than one.

Today we have just 681 bottles of the 2004 Theale Vineyard Sparkling for just £22.99. It's taken five years to mature!! If I were you I'd get some. In fact I will get some. A dozen please Max?

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The man who made all this possible

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 16:28:00 +0000

Today would have been Monsieur Cassin's birthday. He'd be getting close to a hundred, now.

I'm thinking of him this balmy 'rest day' between finishing harvesting the Merlot and starting on the Cabernets tomorrow. He's the reason you are reading this. Any of this. Had I been billeted with anyone but M and Mme. Cassin when I arrived in France as a student there would be no Laithwaites. Of that I am quite sure.

I was not, on arrival here, one of those natural born entrepreneurs you read about. I did not have a paper-round or indulge in anything even vaguely money-making as a child. I did not come here to learn a trade or make my fortune. I came on account of the Maigret series on TV. And that hilarious Jacques Tati film; 'Jour de Fête'. And Brigitte Bardot. I just fancied France. No more than that.

But Monsieur Cassin decided to mould me. He'd had a lifetime of British culture running a French trading company in British Africa. Some of our culture he liked; (he knew Shakespeare by heart), some he certainly didn't; (Governor Sherwood-Smith who called him the 'Uppity Frog' and had him arrested).

I was his chance to give a raw Brit some French culture.

He forced me to speak French. Speak or starve, basically. But when I asked correctly they fed me such delights. And introduced me to their culture, (Girls, Bals, French Girls, Fêtes), Not Bardot but ... so different, and, hey, I'd just escaped from a British Boarding School!

Then I got the meal time talks about doing business. I was infected by the enthusiasm. France now; dirigiste, socialiste France is not held to be particularly entrepreneurial. Completely anti-entrepreneurial really. But this was then.

I worked in a winery that Monsieur became manager of when it was bankrupt. I saw how with no resources he turned it right round into a big success. I learned how he broke rules, innovated (being the first producer ever to sell direct to a supermarket made him very unpopular in Bordeaux) and generally baffled the competition.

Then, that fateful day he said "You could do this too, Tony". My mind exploded, and ... Presto! The aimless youth had his life's mission.

And Monsieur's support, when I set off ... I'd post him little dictafone tapes of moans, he'd return them, a master-class in business-studies.

He constantly repeated the word ''Comptabilité" (Accounts!). And I would say "Oui, Monsieur" whilst not doing any at all, until two years in when Barbara came to do them for me.

As we grew he would repeat the new mantra " Faites attention à vos Marechaux"! (He saw me as a bit of a Napleon). We didn't watch them, and, alas, he was right. But we survived.

Ah! Monsieur. What would you think now? 40 years and still going? He wouldn't seem impressed. I'd get a finger-wagging lecture. But I guess inside he'd be happy.

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Ste Colombe. Out on the steepest slopes at eight. Barely light to see ...

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 11:17:00 +0000

But big team so finish by ten. Back to Chai to sort until lunch … However, coach arrives with this week's 'le staf' as they call it here; a tour group of DW staff. Clamber aboard with relief, steer driver through Faugères estate, up round past their one week old 'wine cathedral' to something a bit older.

Parts of Chateau Pressac date from the C15th and it was where we signed the surrender at the end of the 100 years war when we - the English - lost Aquitaine.

Modern history is nicer. I first knew it as a spooky Gothik sort of place perched on its hill so hidden in pines you could only see the turrets. Transylvania -in- Bordeaux. And it made terrible wine. Jean Francois Quentin bought it a dozen years ago, clearered the trees, built terracing and planted 40 hectares. They said he was mad. Terraces! Impossible.

He works those terraces with a horse. He's bought the finest bit of oak forest in France to ensure his supply of prime oak, and done simply everything to take this wine up to Premier Cru standards. Today he was showing off the very latest bit of kit. This one uses lasers and puffs of compressed air to remove any non-perfect grapes. And it goes so fast its a blur. Hey-ho, humans being phased out again!

Fascinating tour and pleasant lunch. This is a very undervalued wine because it’s still unknown.

(Interesting fact; one of the grapes planted at Pressac is called - throughout Bordeaux - 'Pressac'. It came from Cahors. A Monsieur Malbec changed its name to his own and exported it round the world. It found great success in Argentina.)

Walk home to find that, harvesting over, they're having a hen race. Six hens, first back to the pen. Sheila, the favourite, a very smart hybrid, wins.

Catching up on emails and diary. Tonight eating with 'le staf' at 'L'envers' wine bar St Emilion.

Tomorrow is Sunday. I may not get up.

A welcome day off

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 09:51:00 +0000

Given a day off harvesting on account of advanced age and knackeredness. Go down to watch what Chai OK up to. Lots of rushing around and Elvis on full volume. Sauvignon, Roussanne, Grenache Gris, Chardonnay, Viognier, Vermentino, Verdejo ... fermenting away merrily. Maybe Elvis? Yves taking photos of all the poseurs.

Escape yet another big lunch to walk up along the riverbank. Pay respects to old General Talbot at his little monument, where he fell in the battle in 1453 just by the Rauzan ford.

Things haven't changed much on this river since then. You look up river; just trees and water, as always. A mile down river though, the great Chai au Quai gleaming in the midday sun, dominates the view. This is the view the boatmen in their gabares must have been happy to see when bringing down the wine.

Jean-Pierre has got me another old postcard from 1911. Garbares loading hundreds of barrels in front of the Chai. Two little girls watching in their Sunday Best. Like Gigi's.

Not quite so romantic today, but still a lovely spot to soak up the sunshine.

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It looks like a rather advanced space vehicle. Or one of those Transformer things. It can change its shape.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 14:32:00 +0000

Today I saw a demonstration of the very latest, state-of-the-art, Grape Harvesting Machine. It doesn't just harvest grapes, it sorts, cleans and classifies the berries as well as – or better than – we've ever been able to do with our hands and eyes.

Most farmers here have used harvesters to save money for years. Only those few aiming very high up the quality ladder have retained their troops of pickers to do things carefully and gently. But now here's a machine seems able to do better than humans.

Not sure yet. But tests and comparisons on finished wines will soon show. It isn't very eco-friendly, that's for sure. But here, straight economic survival seems more important just now.

I can't help but reflect (as you do a lot at my age) that when I first came here in 1965 the methods, involving horses, oxen, human beings in clogs or bare feet, their muscles (considerable), wooden tubs and concrete tanks .... Nothing whatsoever - NOTHING - had changed for a thousand - almost two thousand years. The Roman, mortar-lined tanks I came here to excavate on the archaeological dig by the church I am sat looking at, were no different from the ones still being used.

In my 44 years coming here, now that this Spaceship has landed, EVERYTHING has changed.

Viticulturally-speaking, I am now 1,800 years old.

And I feel it this morning ... but that's because we, at least, are still manually harvesting. And it’s hard.

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Yesterday was picking and sorting from 8 till 6. All grubby and sticky with juice.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 09:08:00 +0000

Then it was quick wash, best suit on and over to the Grand Opening of the new Chateau Faugeres.

Our next door neighbour Silvio Denz has spent three years and an unimaginable sum building a winemaking palace on the hill in front of us. We've watched the crane for a couple of years, and lately it has been like a frantic ant's nest of workers.

The result, I like. Very much. Practical winery but with such flair (Swiss architect) and imagination. And St. Emilion could do with a little of that. They can be sooo stuffy.

St Emilion is an area of nice little old warm stone houses, but not really castles; 'chateaux', if we're honest about it. (Whereas Castillon has a whole bunch of ancient fortresses.) There are only four large estates in the whole of St Emilion. But now they have Silvio and his modern winery.

It's clever. Uses the slope. A gravity winery. No pumps. Pumps bruise wine. So grapes come in level one. Tip down into the wooden fermenters, level -1, then drop again to the barrels, level -2. Above these levels rises three more levels of tower; The Belvedere, which looks across to the ageless beauty of our dear Ste Colombe. Ignored for centuries. But no more.

It was quite a banquet. The whole wine world was there. My daughter-in-law and I felt a bit out of our depth but found a nice corner on the Castillon table with the Mayor and other St. Colombains, and we spent the night remembering the tragic fall and subsequent rise of Chateau Faugeres and its extraordinary people. The Esqissauds, their cousin; the Peby Guisez. All very bright, lovely stars, all tragically extinguished but who live on in their Faugeres. Someone will maybe write the story one day. Make a good film.

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Lying on the grass trying to straighten my back. Why do we grow grapes so low down?

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 09:26:00 +0000

It’s 11am. An hour to go to a blessed harvest lunch by Bernadette which always makes this pain seem worth it. Actually with the sun shining, the breeze cooling and the larks arising in song all around ... it’s pretty good really.

Harvesting with the family. Barbara saying there's nothing in the world she'd rather be doing on her birthday than this ... which doesn't make me sound such a great husband.

But these are lovely grapes. Small, black skins already leaking colour when you squeeze them, red stalks. Crunch the pips and no acrid taste whatsoever. These grapes are ripe! This will be one of those slightly annoying vintages when everyone – even the bone idle – will make good wine. On the one hand I kind of prefer the trickier vintages when skills counts. On the other hand there is great joy in harvesting such beauty!

Sound of tractor returning empty. Break over. Bend to it. Must go.

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Young Blogs and old Diaries. Take your pick.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 09:59:00 +0000

It’s all go at the moment ... vintage is on. Wonderful, sunny one here in Bordeaux and from what I hear, equally good across Europe. See you all at the 40th Wine Show next month. It'll be good.

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Flew back to sunshine in England!

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 14:44:00 +0000

Spend the afternoon reconnoitring possible sites for more sparkling wine vineyards in the Chiltern hills around us. It is beautiful country. But a few well-planted vineyards would add much interest and charm. And some revenue for farmers maybe.

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Second celebration was yesterday in St Emilion

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 15:56:00 +0000

At 5p.m. the Ban des Vendanges was declared by the red-robed Members of the Jurade from top of the King's Tower. Vintage 2009 is now officially on.

Before that an extraordinarily diverse bunch of folk were inducted into the Jurade in ancient ceremonies that took up the entire day. I know because I was one of them. And so was Barbara.

At 9 a.m. we turned up at the Town Hall garden to get robed-up. Barbara looked immediately regal. I – because I have, err... the wrong shape – spent the day looking like I had a couple of towels round my shoulders.

A band of extras from 'The Three Musketeers' struck up and we processed behind the banner to the Collegial Church. To facilitate things, the traffic bollards had been removed from the centre of the road ... but, alas, not the raised traffic island. I know this because, whilst trying to impress fellow inductee Roger Voss, and not looking where I was going, I tripped on the damned thing. Much flapping and tangling of red robes, much general hilarity, some loss of dignity.

Mass was Highly Celebrated; bells and incense etc by a full fidget of squirming small boys.

The Cure gave mention of Cotes de Castillon in his sermon. I liked him! Good choir, I thought. But then star-inductee; Joseph Calleja sang 'Ave Maria' and it was ... transcendental? A great tenor sings like that and you get something that goes right through you and even the not very convinced get the goose bumps. Yes, words do fail me.

Then it was out into the sun to process, raggedly, to the Monolithic Church (carved out of the solid rock under the town's great spire). Here, we New Boys were 'done'. Each of us standing forward whilst being lauded to the high vaulted ceiling and instructed to drink St Emilion on every conceivable occasion.

Politicians; swivel-eyeing, artists; big hairing, doctors – the pro-wine lobby, one imagines; actors; posing, Texans; big, Japanese; little, and even wine merchants; beaming.

I am now a 'Prud Homme' a proud title which I must look up the meaning of. Barbara is senior to me; a 'Dame'. Pronounced 'Damn'!

Then another procession back up the hill to the garden of the Dominicans for a glass of much needed restorative and lunch.

Dear old Monsieur Manoncourt (Chateau Figeac) now the 'Premier Jurat' came for a chat. Which was an honour. Very old now, he was remembering the occasion during these same festivities back in September '75 when a crew of scruffy young Brits (including me and Hugh Johnson) were allowed in and presented with a case of Figeac to be taken aboard the ill-fated Brigantine 'Marques' and – with another 2000 cases of lesser clarets – sailed home to Plymouth.

Lunch was long but it was delicious, and I did have the delicious Brigitte Bourlon of Chateau Guibeau to my right (her charming mother on my left). Brigitte's rather-too-handsome-for-my-liking Eric seemed to have Barbara and her sister Helen in fits, Phillipe and Stephanie also. Monsieur Bourlon sat silent. He always does. But we did get a smile eventually. That was after the Pavie 2000 and the Clos Fourtet '99 which could make a stone statue smile.

Saw a load of old - some very old - friends and made new. Lots of English. Puzzlingly all from Yorkshire. Just had to point out the tables were all bedecked with wonderful RED roses!

After that, things sort of faded and here I am back in my airport home again. Work calls.

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Back to Bordeaux for two ceremonies.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 08:36:00 +0000

First, last night, was the Grand Ouverture of the Comptoir de Genes, in Saint Genes; next village to ours. Barbara, Henry and I undertook, last year, to renovate the building housing the village shop and bar, plus the derelict barn alongside.

We didn't want to lose our shop and funny old bar. Claudy, Madame La Maire de St Genes (and with us at Laithwaites for 36 years!) really didn't want to lose the heart and soul of her village when M. Guimberteau decided to retire. Anne-Marie Galineau, dynamic little mother of 3 small boys packed in her well-paid job and started to learn how to run a corner-shop. But her dream was of a wine-warehouse-cum-restaurant that would provide - at last - an opportunity for people to enjoy, under one roof, the riches of Castillon wine. (Husband; Vincent Galineau is a good grower.)

For Castillon which has no trouble putting on, every summer for over 30 years, twenty performances of a slick, professional, son-et-lumiere re-enactment of C15th life and the bloody Battle of Castillon, (800 actors, 60 horses, oxen, goats, geese, you name it), has just never seemed able to introduce its great wines in any effective way to the world.

Anne-Marie has done it in 6 months. You have got to see this place. It’s full most lunchtimes of St Emilion merchants and producers, finding out what their neighbours can do. And worrying a bit maybe. There are tourists and there are locals. She's got it just right. €14 all-in lunches and wines at cellar-door prices (just €6 corkage to drink it in the restaurant). It opened in June and has been pretty much booked-out ever since. So in a way, last night's Big Opening was superfluous. In another way it was vital for all the young team to get their applause, and for the good growers of our region to get together - on the eve of a promising vintage - and let their hair down.

Wine flowed, Chef Lucie sent round plate after plate of delicious morsels and little St Genes had probably the brightest night in its entire existence. Remember the name; Comptoir de Genes.

Me, this morning, I'm not remembering too much detail at all. Except to see something like this pulled-off in the face of implacable 'Non's' from the world's most stifling bureaucratic culture, gladdens the heart. Gives hope.

Ann-Marie looked radiant but we saw, in the tears shed during her speech, what this has taken out of her. She needs a little rest. Then on to Phase 2. Oh! Yes! There's more to come.

Comptoir de Genes. Google it. Visit it. Say I sent you.

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Sorry for being quiet but been up walking in the Cumbrian rain.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 12:11:00 +0000

And on the wagon due to excessive weight gain over the summer. Very difficult to do a wine diary under such circumstances. A water diary just wouldn't work. If you want wine action, I suggest you log on to our winemaker Mark's Blog. He's just a bit busy...

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France is so special. I just love it.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 08:28:00 +0000

Our village Maire is at last marrying off his son on Saturday. This has brought us considerable benefit already …

For, you see we live on the cross-roads by the church.

The Maire lives 200 yards down our road to the west.

His son – a lovely lad – lives, with his long term fiancé and their kids, 200 yards down the road to the south.

For the last week our Maire has lived on our two roads; just those 400 yards, directing all kinds of heavy state machinery.

The roads around our house have been manicured to perfection. Hedge-cutters, ditch-excavators, road-diggers, road sweepers have been going all day. The electrics have been tidied and the drains cleared. They even remembered to collect our bins this week. Ah! And now the bracing smell of fresh tarmac is wafting across our deckchairs.

Maires have such power in France!

It’s rather magnificent. We say that because we're not complaining, of course; our place has never looked so neat!

And – going on past experience – the nuptial feast on Saturday will be a wonderful finale to our holidays.

Home to England on Monday.

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Am getting bored with hols and the harvest preparations here are making the blood run faster.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 08:22:00 +0000

Excitement mounts. See Mark's blog from down at the Chai. They're not on hols there. New casks came in yesterday and new tanks tomorrow. A fork-lift instructor is here from Gloucester to train them so not too many cases end up in the Dordogne.

Our Annual Aussie has arrived and is Bonjouring everyone to death.

Grapes here are looking black and ripe. Actually they're not ripe. Month to go. But then this time last year they were still green. And we still made really great wine. So what's this year to be? If this weather holds I fear it'll be yet another Wine of the Century!

I need to get home to talk over all the news with the brains back at Theale.

In wine, basically the whole year is decided in just a few weeks Sept-Oct. You gotta get it right. And get the best stuff before anyone else. You wouldn't think something like wine required split-second decisions. But it does. At Vintage time. Right down the line.

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Sorry to all at home, but the sky has stayed pure blue for 3 days here since Sunday, when it stopped raining.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Tue, 01 Sep 2009 09:16:00 +0000

This is like the Bordeaux summers we've not seen since '05. If you're still in the vineyards after 10am you could die! Even Scottish Moira has a bit of a tan. (A 'Scottish Tan' she says; meaning no longer blue).

Last night was shooting star night. Our old tradition here. Lying flat looking at the stars which are always brighter here (and the ground less damp) than the UK. Bagged over 30 in one hour (well, those with good eyes did). A record. Good omen?

So got up too late. Hence got fried in the vines.

But only 14 rows to go. Then every bunch will be hanging free, untangled and exposed to morning sun and the drying breeze. All potentially festering clumps of bunches will have been 'de-fankled' and there'll only be two bunches per shoot, and just one on the weedy shoots.

Getting quite nerdy aren't I?

I may have mentioned this before but as I work I just cannot seem to stop this rude schoolboy ditty going through my head; (But, err, adapted!), You know it? To the tune of The Sailors Hornpipe"?

Begins...

" Oh! ... Do your grapes hang low? Can you swing 'em to and fro'?"

It’s crucial, you see, that they do swing well and that they must NOT be left in a knot – or even a bow.

But it's very promising for the vintage. Says he, touching wood with crossed-fingers.

Wise Alain says the value of a Bordeaux vintage is actually based on the sea temperature at Cap Feret in August. This may or may not affect the grape ripening process. But a couple of degrees warmer sure affects the mood of all the Bordeaux Merchants traditionally holidaying together there. They return to work all happy, fit and optimistic. And this 'bounce' somehow transmutes into a 'great vintage'.

Not heard that theory before. But maybe ...

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Thomas Woolrych in Argentina Day 13: Just tasted my TOP MALBEC from the trip.

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Laithwaite) — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 08:43:00 +0000

Okay – I've tasted an abundance of really good Malbec since arriving in Mendoza at the weekend. But this one is special.

It's made by a young 35-year old called Karim Mussi, whose great grandfather came here from Lebanon after WW1. He works out of an ancient 1912 winery in La Consulta in the Uco Valley. This is one of the very best areas for Malbec in Argentina. Over 3000ft up with a dramatic snow-clad Andes in the background. Surrounded by giant cedars planted by the 19th Century English owner over 100 years ago.

Vineyards here are up to 60 years old. I tasted the wines in the dusty yard on top of an upturned French barrique. These are some of the darkest, spiciest and most exciting Malbecs I've seen. Karim spends every penny he has on the best French barrels and when you have grapes of this quality, he needs nothing else.

He's not exported to the UK before and makes very little wine. They'll last for ages but are already showing brilliantly.

Thomas Woolrych, Head Buyer

Tony is on holiday

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