Christmas at The Eversley

December, 2009 - James and Claire wanted Evie to spend her first Christmas at home, so they arranged to come down in the week between Christmas and New Year. As a result we had a relatively quiet weekend, although it didn't start well. On the Wednesday before Christmas Jill was going to the shops for some last minute essentials when her car-key 'self-destructed'. The plastic fob split in half and the electronic thingamajig inside flirted out, meaning that the key wouldn't start the car. In the event she used my key instead, but on examining hers, I saw that the metal blade of the key fits into a tiny socket in the fob, held in place by a screw, so that when the key is turned all the strain goes on to this small 'junction'. Anyway, it was too close to Christmas to do anything about it, and we're changing the car in March anyway, so I thought we would manage with one key between us.

James, Claire and Evie duly came down on the Monday after Christmas, and James went out to move our car so that they could park. As he inserted the key into the lock, exactly the same thing happened as had happened to Jill's key: it split apart, the thingamajig leapt out and, to make matters worse, the plastic fob came completely away from the blade, which was still in the ignition. It would neither turn nor be removed. We managed to release the handbrake and push the car forward successfully but, of course, the steering was locked so it could only move a few feet.

For the record, the car is a Proton Impian X, first registered on the 26th April, 2005, so coming up for five years old, and with about 26,000 miles from new. I bought it from the garage which had sold it new, and they've serviced it ever since, so it's been well looked-after. At this age, of course, everything is well out of guarantee, but as I put in my letter of complaint to Proton UK about the two keys 'self-destructing' within five days of each other: "I am no mathematician, but I think that random odds for this happening must be close to those for being hit by a meteorite or winning the national lottery".

As the car was neither driveable nor towable they had to send a truck to pick it up, and we got it back a week later with two new keys, along with a bill for £338.11. They keys are £76.38 plus VAT - a nice little earner for Proton, I'll warrant. They should receive my letter by the end of the week, and I'll record here what the outcome is. [See 15-Jan-10 above]

Anyway, once the car business was out of the way we got down to the serious business of Christmas. Jill always puts on a spread of nibbly bits (mostly prawny and crabby things) for when they arrive, and we somehow managed to get down a magnum of Jacquart Brut de Nominée, especially since I only had one glass (not much of a lover of fizzy wine, although the others made up for it, especially James).

We had decided not to do the present thing until the Tuesday morning, so the next stop was dinner. James loves to go rooting in my wine rack for dusty old bottles that he thinks I've forgotten about. Jill had prepared a couple of brace of spatchcock poussin and James dug out a bottle of Riberal Reserva 1996, from Bodegas Santa Eulalia in Ribera del Duero, which required very careful decanting. I wasn't sure how it would have survived (I've moved house twice since then) but, in the event, it was still there, and drinking splendidly: mature, aromatic and delicious, with just a hint of fading on the finish. I haven't got any more of that vintage but if I had I'd say it needs drinking up soon.

We did the presents on the Tuesday morning. Evie is, of course, much too young at 14 weeks to understand what it's all about, but she got the biggest 'stocking' of all, including a Winnie the Pooh which is almost the same size as she is. Claire has had to ask all their friends not to buy any more clothes for Evie as she now has an absolute wardrobe full, in all sizes up to a year old. I got a nice woolly jumper and, erm, well, I'll think of it in a minute. I never know what to buy for Jill and she never knows what to buy for me, so I gave her the bill for the car, and she gave it back to me.

We haven't bothered with turkey for many years, and Jill usually does a crispy duck - Peking style - which we all love and which she has perfected over the past 20 years until it's always absolutely spot-on, but this year she's developed a recipe for crispy lamb. She takes a shoulder of lamb, rolls it out and marinates it overnight with the same spices that she uses on the duck. It then goes into the oven until it's well and truly roasted - almost black - before being smashed up, again in the style of crispy duck. They like it Mongolian-style, rolled up in pancakes with cucumber, spring onion and hoy sin sauce (like the duck, again) but I prefer it Mediterranean style, with coarse salad inside a toasted pitta bread. In either case it disappeared very rapidly. We drank a bottle of Bruñal 2004, a gift from the importer (Besos wines of Chichester - 01-243-511-151), which was just as well, as it retails at about £85 a bottle. Bruñal is an obscure grape which only grows in one small plot in Pereña de la Ribera, in Arribes. The winemaker at Bodegas Ribera de Pelazas, Julio Gallo (no relation - he's actually Uruguayan) discovered the abandoned vines and decided to resurrect the vineyard, with a first vintage - of only 1,500 bottles - in 2003. I first tasted it at the London Wine Fair in 2006, and was astonished at the quality. The 2004 performed no less well with the crispy lamb: big, powerful fruit with balanced tannins and more than enough 'oomph' to cope with the food.

I'm a bit of a backslider when it comes to puddings, but Jill had got some crème brulée, which everyone loves. Indeed, James had bought her one of the blowlamp things which you use to caramelise the sugars (but guess what - it came out of the box 'fuel not included', and all the shops were shut). The family still enjoyed it, however, and James managed to find a really old, forgotten, dusty bottle at the bottom of the wine rack: 1969 Château Guiraud, Sauternes. Indeed, the dust was so thick that I had to scrape it off to read the label. I bought it during my first stint in the wine trade (1972-5) and I might have paid £1.80 for it, or thereabouts. It was actually a present for Jill, who has resolutely refused to open it until now, and I wondered whether it would have survived 40 years (and five house moves), especially since 1969 was not considered a very good year (which is probably why I could afford it).

In the event, the cork was encouragingly sound, and the wine decanted with surprisingly little sediment. In the glass it was perfumed, with no hint of oxidation, and on the palate it was undeniably faded but still retained some of the classic Sauternes magic - gentle, elegant sweetness and a lovely old-fashioned style. Another one to drink up, but what an experience 40 years on and from a pretty duff year... Although, of course, Guiraud is a Premier Cru.

The débris (well, some of it): Riberal '96, Bruñal '04 and Guiraud '69

As with Christmas, James and Claire wanted Evie to spend her first ever new year at home and, with more snow forecast they decided to head back on the Wednesday, and had a quiet journey - I think most people had stayed at home - punctuated by the regulation stop at the bikers' café at Box Hill (their bacon and egg baps are astonishing, but the coffee is so hot that you can't drink it until it's too late).


01-Jan-10 - Our own new year weekend was as quiet as Christmas - indeed we didn't set foot outside the house until the 9th January to replenish urgently-needed stocks (whisky, Bourbon, brandy, milk, er, oh, and there wasn't a loaf to be had in the supermarket) and guess what. After scraping an inch of snow off the windscreen and getting the car going, the wipers went 'phut' and have not moved since. That'll be another 300 quid then... B****y Proton! [See 15-Jan-10 above]

To sponsor a weblink or picture for any post, please contact john@johnradford.com

December Travels, and Stranded by Snow

December, 2009 - aside from the birthday thing (see a previous post) December was pretty quiet:

02-Dec-09 - a four-hour drive in the filthiest imaginable weather conditions (the rain was so heavy on the A34 we almost had to stop) took us to Whatley Manor, near Malmesbury in Wiltshire. Last year I had the great pleasure of travelling around northern Portugal with the chef, Martin Burge who, at that time, had a Michelin star. In January, 2009 he won his second star, and we were to have dinner and interview him about his food and the restaurant - the dinner was fab. Full details are in the January, 2010 issue of YES CHEF! Magazine, but I must give the hotel itself a mention:

The approach to Whatley Manor in darkness is a revelation: on an unlit, winding country road between Malmesbury and Easton Grey, lights appear in the trees ahead. Then stone buildings and, finally one of those brown and white tourism signs finally admits that you are approaching the hotel. A long driveway lit by axle-height pylons leads you to another stone building and two firmly-closed gates which look remarkably like the drawbridge to a mediaeval castle. A sign advises hotel guests to drive towards the gates 'which will open automatically', and they do, revealing an elegant, cobbled courtyard, herbaceous borders and a welcoming light at the main entrance. There are few, if any signs to say that this is a hotel, and that's the idea, says Eloise Gordon, from the marketing department.  "We want it to feel like a private country house, which is what it was when it was built." When was that? Stone walls, leaded lights, Elizabethan pediments - 16th, 17th century? "Well, no, actually it was in the 1920s. It was converted into a hotel in the 1950s and an extra wing was added in the early 2000s", but you wouldn't know it to look at it. You really can't see the join.

The Courtyard at Whatley Manor. Pic.: www.whatleymanor.com

In daylight you can see the magnificent formal gardens and the river Avon which, even in winter, raise the spirits. If you're looking for a real romantic getaway, this is definitely it.

03-Dec-09 - From Whatley onward to Daventry in Northamptonshire, via Cirencester and Banbury: a pleasant drive through some lovely old towns and villages, and even some decent weather after the downpours of the previous day. The occasion was a gig for The Wine Adventure, which arranges corporate wine events, and this was the 'finale' for a sales conference. The group were enthusiastic and boisterous but did remarkably well in identifying the wines - indeed the overall individual winner who got all but one of the questions right, admitted publicly that he knew nothing about wine. I think he probably does now.

We were staying at the Premier Inn (very pleasant, no frills, excellent service), near to junction 16 on the M1, so the following morning we were able to call in and see James, Claire and Evie on our way home. A very pleasant three days (apart from the weather on day 1!).

08-Dec-09 - another very welcome late invitation arrived from La Rioja Calidad, which is the organisation which looks after all the DO products of La Rioja, including wine, of course. They asked me to conduct three evening tastings as part of a 'La Rioja Week' at the National Geographic store on Regent Street in London. I thought it a rather unusual venue, but in the event they were perfectly geared up for it, and the tastings were well-attended, and I was able to taste one or two wines from bodegas which I haven't visited, perhaps most notably Bodegas Tobía in San Asensio, whose range was impressive. They are on my list for a visit next time I'm in Rioja. The organisers were Jorge Portu from Rioja Calidad, and Juan Chavarri from the regional Ministry of Agriculture, who helped to field the more technical questions, and everything went like clockwork.

I'd never been to the store before and was amazed at the range of stuff they stock: not just maps, books and magazines but furniture, ethnic artefacts and specialist clothing. Most fascinating was the range of 'arctic-wear' in the basement, where there's even a freezer chamber with glass walls and a thermal-imaging screen, so you can try on your polar parka, go inside and see where the heat is leaking out - if any. I could have watched it for hours.

17-Dec-09 - the last 'away from home' job of the year was putting issue 12 of YES CHEF! Magazine to bed. Jill warned me that it was going to snow and I laughed: it never snows in Worthing, apart from a few feeble flakes. Before the train had even arrived, however, snow did start to fall... I changed trains at Clapham for Milton Keynes, as usual, by which time I'd seen some fairly substantial falls from the train window, and they got heavier the further north I went. The train was, nevertheless, more or less on time, and I got a cab to a bar where I'd arranged to meet a former colleague - Sam Jones, who'd been my deputy editor at YES CHEF! but was about to take up a new job with a magazine in London. The idea was that the publisher, Peter Marshall, would pick me up at 7:00 pm and take me over to Buckingham, where I'd stay the night prior to going into the office the following morning. In the event he'd flown in from Jersey to Birmingham and the flight was late, so we ended up running up a rather large bar bill while we waited. Eventually he did arrive and we decamped to the Brasserie Blanc on Avebury Boulevard - I can recommend the strog.

The drive back to Buckingham (about half an hour on a good day) was a bit slippery, although the snow had stopped falling. I was telling myself that it'd all be gone by tomorrow morning as I turned in at the Buckingham Hotel - very comfortable, warm, and free wifi, too.

18-Dec-09 - it snowed again overnight. Peter picked me up at 09:00 and we slipped and slithered towards the office. It's on an industrial estate so there's almost no through traffic, and it took us several attempts to get up the gentle slope to the office door, but we did it in the end. I knew that this one was going to be a long job, and had originally suggested that I should stay over a second night rather than risk having to cross London on a Friday evening, but as they day wore on and the internet weather news got worse and worse, I began to think I should just do what I could and leave as early as possible. Then things got worse still. Trains were cancelled, roads closed. There were no trains between Brighton and Worthing. I began to worry about the prospect of being stranded somewhere like Clapham Junction and freezing to death overnight, so I decided that I would have to stay over, after all. But we did get the job finished, by about 6:30 pm. They put me up, not at the Buckingham, but at the Villiers, in the centre of the town, and a charming old coaching inn. It looks very quaint from the outside but inside it's warm and welcoming, has a lift (alleluia) and wifi (but only in public areas). I was, however, exhausted, so I retired to the room which proved to be very spacious, warm, and comfortable, and sent out for room service (steak baguette, chips, bottle of house red - sorry, not very original) and had the best night's sleep I'd had for a week.

19-Dec-09 - no more snow, and the roads were pretty clear as I travelled back to MK in a taxi: an interesting thing, the cost. When I get a taxi from MK to Buckingham it costs around £25. The taxi in the other direction (admittedly a private-hire car rather than a hackney) was only £16. I must keep their number.

Anyway, the train was in, there were, apparently, no delays, and all seemed well. We arrived at Clapham on time, and there's about a 20-minute dwell for the Worthing train, which also arrived, more or less, on time. I was congratulating myself on good planning... Until we got to Haywards Heath. The 12-car train split into three 4-car sets, one fast to Eastbourne, one slow to Ore, and ours (at the back) for Worthing and Littlehampton. And then... Nothing happened. After a good bit of shilly-shallying the guard eventually told us that the front set had broken down (apparently nothing to do with the 'severe weather conditions') and so, of course, the middle and rear sets weren't going anywhere, and would we please get out and take the next train from the platform opposite. Trouble is, the next train (a Brighton service) had been cancelled, which meant that there were now passengers from 16 or even 20 carriages waiting for a connection, and it was quite possible that the incoming train might only have four carriages. The next (Brighton) service was diverted to one of the up platforms, which meant a trek down into the bowels of the station, and when I got down there amongst the flowing herd of fellow travellers I saw a welcome sight: 'Taxis'. So that was it: a taxi home cost me £50 and I've written to Southern to complain and ask for my money back. We shall see.

November travels - Scotland and Northern Navarra

November, 2009 - Not such a busy month, travel wise, but a lot of work putting together the January issue of YES CHEF! Magazine.

06-Nov-09 - off to Glasgow by train for the Scottish Chefs' Conference and interviews with chefs around the city for a feature trying to establish the difference between the eating likes and dislikes of restaurant-goers in Glasgow and Edinburgh, as well as a chat to Conference-organiser Willie Pike about the importance of the event for training young, up-and-coming chefs. You can read all about it in a future issue of the magazine. We stayed at the very pleasant Thistle Hotel on Cambridge Street, where the conference was being held, and attended the gala dinner on the night. The following day I caught the train for Milton Keynes via Crewe for a meeting the next day which was, as it happened, aborted, so I was able to stay overnight at the Jurys Inn (a room right next to the lift and an ice machine on every floor - very civilised) and get a mid-morning train the following day. There's a new(ish) Southern service direct from Milton Keynes to East Croydon, and if I change at Clapham Junction it's just two platforms for the direct Worthing train: no hauling across London by tube or taxi. And, yes, that's a fair amount of train travel but I actually prefer that: it's 6-7 hours in each direction between Worthing and Glasgow Central, but it means that I get 4-5 hours uninterrupted working time on the train from/to Euston which is extremely useful. My colleague Sue Prain flew up early on the morning of the Conference and back early the following morning - four airports in 24 hours - no thanks!

18-Nov-09 - an unexpected invitation to the far north of Navarra came through early in the month, and as I hadn't been on a 'proper' visit there since 2000 I jumped at it, especially when I learned that I would be the only person on the trip. They say that 'he travels fastest who travels alone', but the real advantage was that I was able to apologise in advance for my creaky joints and request that there would be no walking through vineyards, fermenting halls or barrel cellars. As a result I was able to squeeze in at east one extra visit each day, which was extremely useful. Unfortunately I had to fly from Heathrow Terminal 3 as no-one seems to fly from Gatwick to Bilbao any more, and a flight direct to Pamplona would have meant changing at (horror! Horror!) Madrid terminal 4, so there was no choice. Terminal 3 is possibly the most appalling human anthill of any airport in the UK but it does, at least have a Priority Pass lounge so I was able to secrete myself for an hour or so away from the madding crowds.

After that, everything was plain sailing, with a car to meet me at Bilbao and whisk me off to the Hotel Tres Reyes in Pamplona, which is very pleasant - I've stayed there before, but on this oaccasion I arrived at about 23:15 and, unfortunately, room service had finished and the restaurant was closed (in Spain? Yup) so I had to settle for a rather greasy plate of cold embutidos and a bottle of house red, which was disappointing, but the rest of the trip made up for it. I was hosted by Pilar García Granero and Jordi Vidal of the Consejo Regulador, and later by Conchi Biurrun, who I have known for many years and who is the manager of the Asociación Bodegas de Navarra. Indeed, she took me to dinner at a VERY trendy restaurant called Enekorri: long and thin with floor-to-ceiling wine-racks, and full of very trendy thirty-somethings with dangerously-expensive haircuts. We ate well and dined well into the night. The wines and visits which were part of the trip are covered in the January issue of JOHN RADFORD'S WINEWIRE, which is out in the first week of January, 2010.

Catching up - October - Jersey, Corsica, and an Exploding freezer

October, 2009 - This is a round-up of what's been happening since the last time I was able to file some posts. It's been a very busy time and I'm still trying to catch up. So, very briefly:

12-Oct-09 - three excellent days in Jersey doing interviews for EAT JERSEY magazine, staying at the magnificent Longueville Manor in St Saviour, as the guest of the Lewis family, who celebrated 60 years at the Manor in 2009. Currently run by Malcolm and Patricia Lewis, the hotel is the only one on Jersey with five AA red stars and membership of Relais & Châteaux. I had a ground-floor room overlooking the lawns and swimming-pool and, even draped with autumn leaves, it was splendid. So was the food - dinner at the family's restaurant Suma's in Gorey, then lunch with the whole family at Longueville. An excellent few days.

Longueville Manor. Pic.: www.longuevillemanor.com

18-Oct-09 - off to Nice for the night, on my way to Corsica for yet another wine trip. There are no direct flights to the island, and flights from Gatwick to Nice are at odd times of the day, so I stayed overnight at the Campanile at Nice airport, which was very pleasant. My flight out the following morning was quite early, and I arrived in Bastia at 09:50. The trip was organised by UBIFRANCE, the French Embassy commercial office in London, and led by the enigmatically-named Pandora Mistry, whom I was to meet later. In the meantime, they'd sent a car to pick me up at the airport - it's about half an hour's drive from the town. The driver pointed out, as we drove along the coast, that you could see the islands of Elba and Monte Cristo on the horizon, although fog made them rather hazy. He also filled me in on some of the details of the Corsican language, which is neither French nor Italian but somewhere in between. The scenery can be hauntingly beautiful, as well.

A glimpse of the island's interior. Pic - UBIFRANCE

We were to stay at the Hotel Posta Vecchia, a charming olde-worlde peeling-stucco building on the seafront, in the colonial style. There was a lift, however, and the rooms were very warm and comfortable, with satellite TV and free wifi as well. Best not to judge by first impressions. The hotel only does bed and breakfast, and as lunchtime approached the very helpful receptionist directed me out on to the quayside, where there were 'lots of restaurants'. Which I'm sure there were, in the season but not, it seemed, in October. The seafront was festooned with framed canvas shelters which, presumably in the summer, are extensions of the local restaurants alive with the smell of freshly-cooked seafood and the sounds of enthusiastic visitors. But not today. Indeed, there were several large restaurants on the other side of the road, all of which seemed to be closed. And then, squeezed in between 'Chez Même' and 'O Moule' I discovered 'Les Zéphyrs', with a canvas-covered frontage and an open door. There was no-one inside but it appeared to be open, and I went in. At the rear were steep, outdoor steps leading down to what I took to be the kitchen, but no sign of life. A moment later a most charming lady appeared and confirmed that, yes, they were open, and she could do me a pizza and a pichet of the local red wine. Fortunately I love pizza, and was veritably starving, having had nothing since the previous night. The pizza proved to be the classic Italian, thin crust, pepperoni, ham, mushrooms and all that stuff, and it was so big that it overhung the plate. The wine was a simple, local red, served lightly chilled, and absolutely delicious. For this feast she charged me the princely sum of €15, after which I staggered back to the hotel for a siesta.

That evening we were to meet the rest of the team, all of whom had arrived at different times, and the party included a couple of old chums: Andrew Hill from George Hill of Loughborough and Susan Hulme, a fellow member of the Circle of Wine Writers. Pandora took us to a restaurant called Le Bouchon, down by the old port where, to be honest, the food was a bit underwhelming: the crottin was very 'clarty' and escalope of veal turned out to be more of a burger, and slightly sweet. I didn't finish either. I did, however, enjoy the 2007 Domaine Pierre Rolle (Vermentino), Coteaux de Cap Corse, and the company was, of course, excellent.

The next two days were spent in visits and tastings, and these will be written up in detail in the spring, 2010 edition of JOHN RADFORD'S WINEWIRE.

Vineyards in Morsiglia, Haute-Corse. Pic.: UBIFRANCE

So, fast forward to Wednesday 21-Oct-09 and the Hotel Solemare in Bonifacio, a lovely place right by the harbour with views of boats bobbing about, lights and activity going on. Pandora had arranged another visit to a typical artisanale Corsican restaurant which was 'ten minutes walk' away (in other words probably a mile or more and up steep, cobbled streets) so in deference to my creaking joints I chickened out and asked at reception if there was a restaurant a bit nearer. There was indeed - right next door. The Restaurant du Centre Nautique has a fabulous dining room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the harbour. I dined in solitary splendour on fillet steak, Cap Corse wine, coffee and the local brandy (which is mind-boggling). The following morning several of my colleagues confirmed the marathon race-walk which had been the previous night's journey to the restaurant, and that the food had been, well, underwhelming again. Andrew had set out in the morning to retrace his steps but been defeated when he got to 'the hill'. "You would never have made it, John," he said. I was glad I hadn't tried.

Then it was off to the airport at Figari for flights home. Once again, we were all leaving at different times and it was my luck to be one of the latest flights (via Nice again) which meant some three hours at the airport. Figari is small and doesn't have a Priority Pass lounge, but it does have a large bar... Which was closed. I was, however, able to bash out a 1,000-word article on my laptop whilst waiting, so it wasn't completely wasted. Incidentally, I was interested to learn that one of my journalist colleagues was flying to Orly and taking the Eurostar home, which seemed a much better idea than my trip via Nice... Except that you still have to get across Paris to the Gare du Nord. And I was home in time for apéritifs.

A smashing, and beautifully-organised trip, however, and some eye-opening wines. Log back in in April for more details about that.

24-Oct-09 - freezer went on the blink, packed with food, so I had to dash out and buy a replacement, as the engineer couldn't come until the following Thursday. When he did it cost me £160 for some hi-tech piece of computer printed-circuit board which runs the system. Our old freezer lasted 17 years before it finally blew. The new one lasted only five. Still, that's progress for you.