Monday the 12th and all is quiet. I have arrived back to our great city of London from the Lincolnshire Riviera (Skegness). The sun is shining, and the weather is sweet, yeah.  

I have just been to a lovely Loeb tasting (see previous blog), and I am waiting in Soho for my good friend Richard Siddle. Hungry, but as poor as the clothes on my back and the change in my pocket, I feel that I must eat. It’s 5 p.m.

I’ve tasted 50 wines, and I haven’t had as much as an apple today. Que faire?…

Well, I’ll tell you what I did. As it was my birthday (nearly), and I was on my own, I sat outside Café Bohème on Old Compton Street, and ordered Ham and Cheese Croquettes, a starter portion of Salade Niçoise and a glass of white. Saumur, I think.

Here they are (beer’s not mine).

It was EXACTLY what I wanted. Generous, tasty and very filling. The salty, fishy tuna salad, the Beurre Echiré on baguette, and deliciously hot, crisp cages of crumb, filled with unctuous creamy béchamel and shards of ham. Flipping marvellous. Not the best meal I’ve ever had, but I’m going back soon. The starter salad (but look at the size of it) was £7 and four cigar-sized croquettes were £5. I know for those reading this blog in Lincolnshire, this is equivalent to the weekly shop, but I reckon that this was one of the best value snacks I’ve ever had in Soho. Keep up the bon travail guys.    

Now.

Richard Siddle was receiving a very important guest, Meliza Jalbert, Export Director of Hope Family Wines in California. She had looked after Richard, Oz Clarke and Tim Atkin MW, amongst others, on a recent trip out there, and Mr. Siddle felt that it would be courteous, if nothing else, to return the favour. Miss Jalbert had heard that I was around, and said that she had enjoyed my company the last time we met (naturally), and Richard suggested that I should join them. I suggested my club, Quo Vadis, for eats and civilised drinkies, especially in light of the fact that the wonderfully lyrical Jeremy Lee is now heading up the kitchen there. 

Here is a picture of her on the evening. As you can see, she politely dressed in a manner in keeping with the seriousness that we all take our food and wine.  

This is her in her work clothes.

Anyway, I felt honoured and privileged to have the following gentlemen also present, who, it transpired, generously bought me supper and gave me my only birthday card. (Thank you all. It was an absolutely brilliant evening.) 

Jack Lewens, my dear friend, and Wine Director for Hart Group restaurants, had rotored himself on for the evening, even though it was a Monday, (because I was coming, I like to think anyway). For those who don’t know him, here he is on a morning stroll.

Also with us was Charles ‘Chuckie" Cramer, Californian wine importer extraordinaire, fellow IWC judge, and all round seriously fun guy. Here he is below. 

Although he need no introduction, Richard Siddle is Editor of our trade’s most serious wine journal, Harpers Wine and Spirits Trade Review. Here he is enjoying a cheeky little mojito with me in Cape Town a few years ago. He supports Liverpool, is wonderfully generous and supportive as a mate, and is one of the funniest men that I have ever had the privilege to meet.

And the final lovely surprise of the evening was the presence of Peter McCombie MW, a world class palate, with a highly-functional brain, and also a wicked sense of humour. Here he is, in his library.  

Shit, no. That’s Willie Lebus. This is Peter.

Right, for starters we had these. 

La Gitana Manzanilla 'En Rama’ from Hidalgo

Domain Léon Boesch 'Luss’ Riesling 2008 from Westhalten in the Alsace

Nikolaihoff Gruner Veltliner 'Hefeabzug’ 2009 Wachau, Austria

The sherry is a joy. A complete joy. If I didn’t have a soft spot for Javier Hidalgo’s La Gitana, and even more so for La Pastrana already, I would have fallen in love with his wines all over again. It has an extra roast hazelnut and grapefruit dimension that leaves your mouth screaming for some 'umami’ savoury to join the party.

Enter Jeremy’s Crab Soup.

Sorry. I accidentally deleted the picture that I took, but it was a little white terrine of pure, weaponised crab consommé. Sheer lip-coating, bisquey energy. It was incredibly light in texture and easy on the stomach, despite it’s flavour, and would have made a great magic potion in Lord of the Rings.

The Alsace Riesling was a real surprise. I often, too often, find French Rieslings far too 'worked’ and fashioned. Evidence of old barrels, rich leesy textures, sometimes sugary, sometimes not sugary enough, hints of botrytis, the list is endless. But what I don’t get from Alsace often enough is the pure single-voiced, Rotring-pen precision that I want from this, the most honest of all wine grapes. Well, this biodynamic fella came up with the goods. It has an almost lemon and mustard dressing, shiver-down-the-neck tightness, that opens up to show a delicious crab apple and lime fruitiness. Long and as straight as an arrow. Delightful.

The Nikolaihof Grüner Veltliner '09 was delicious. Christine Nikolaihof, surely one of Austria’s best winemakers, apparently describes this as her 11 a.m. cuvée. It worked just as well at nine in the evening. Jack, pictured below out of his training shorts and being London’s most dapper sommelier, had kept back a few bottles of this sublime vintage for special friends and customers. That would be us. Grateful I was too. Beautiful, textural evolution and hints of quince and Charentais melon, on top of a back drop of white pepper and lime flower. (Ooh. Get me.)

With main courses en route, Peter asked for the perfectly formed wine list. (Honestly, I know of few other smallish wine lists that are so beautifully balanced, and so full of unusual jewels and food-friendly accompaniments.) The prices have recently been reduced, which is great news for all, as well as one reason why this restaurant is packed on a Monday night.

The other is the food. Jeremy appears to be militantly seasonal. If he uses a vegetable out of season, it appears, as it would a century ago, pickled or dried. Refreshingly old skool and zeitgeisty at the same time I think.

I love his food, but I have dined here with two women previously, only to discover that they both found ordering supper very difficult. “It’s a very male-oriented menu.” said one. “I don’t know what to order”. The other claimed that “It is all a bit gamey-offaly. unless you’re into fish, and I don’t like to order fish when I go out.” I didn’t think so, but she had difficulties being happy with her choices too, so ordered sirloin and chips. Although it turned out to be delicious (carved off a large sirloin on the bone, old skool), she felt cheated of a more exciting dining experience.

I have to concede, therefore, that Quo Vadis isn’t all things to all people, but it is to me. I would like to see more changes on the menu more often through each season, but I have only eaten delicious things here. But ladies in question, and Jancis Robinson on a recent tweet, loved the roast salsify in a parmesan crust. Mmm. Who wouldn’t. 

Peter, after cackling devilishly with Jack over potential blind offerings to try out on the rest of us, chose this. Peter asked what I thought it was and did I like it. I inhaled the black cherry and warm earth aromas from the glass and swirled the unctuously silky liquid around the glass and then my mouth.

Prrrrrr. Lovely sweet sour red fruits coated in a jacket of suede and dried mediterranean herbs. I proclaimed Tuscany. Chianti or Brunello. Probably 2004. Then Jack and Peter gaffawed, “Well there’s only one Rufina Chianti on the list! It had to be this one!” Pre-supposing that I had ruled out the dozens of odd bottles that Italianophile Jack had down stairs, and that in my pissed state, I had manage to read and remember every wine on his hundred and fifty strong list in the five minutes I had to browse it, they may well have been right. Come on?! Credit where credits due, fellas! And I hadn’t said Rufina Chianti yet. Or Selvapiana Bucerchiale.

*But I was going to.* 

It is, and both Mr Peter McEmdoubleyou and Jack 'Bjørn from Abba’ Lewens clearly agree, one of the true bargains in Tuscany. It is surely capable of thrashing the hide off wines way more than twice its price. Thank you Peter. Brilliant choice.

Finally, Vietti Dolcetto d'Alba 2009. 

Guys, what a brilliant way to finish a meal. Hats off to you all. 

Rose petals, black cherries, and blueberries, with a tight, savoury Italian twang of Slavonian oak underneath, like a dash of Aperol bitters. It was damn near perfect, and a light joyous match with our expertly chosen English cheeseboard. Sorry. I can’t remember what they were. I was wankered.

Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me…..