Drunk in the day time
Highly unusual for me but - it turns out - hugely enjoyable. By Kate
I have written often about how I find it very difficult to drink too much. I have always been a great believer in ‘better, not more’ and that attitude almost never translates into actually being drunk, even in the hard times.
Perhaps I am reaching new levels of low; or I perhaps am on the ascent even though I don't yet feel it. Who can say? Whatever state I am in, the fact is that last Thursday I was really quite drunk. At 3:00 in the afternoon. It was completely fabulous.
It had been another tough time and then on Tuesday an invitation arrived to a Comptes de Champagne lunch at the new Hakkasan in Mayfair . I very rarely have the time to take up invitations like this and mostly, I have no desire to. For one thing, they usually involve wines I may want to taste but don’t want to drink (often I don’t want to do either), and they generally feature restaurants which, while terribly smart and full of supposedly good food, leave me utterly cold.
But it was to be a vertical tasting (and drinking) of Comptes, the prestige cuvee Blanc de Blancs from the Taittinger House, and it was at the new version of one of my all-time favourite restaurants. Actually, I have always slightly preferred younger, funkier sister Yautcha, but the food is of the same excellent quality in both. Also, since the menu is Chinese, I don’t have to contend with the aftermath of ingesting huge quantities of dairy products. How could I say no?
With a hotel opening weeks away and the world of Green & Blue no less fraught than ever I really should have found a way to decline. But I didn’t. And that turned out to be an excellent decision.
It was all quite perfect. The day was one of those that feel, properly, like the start of spring: still crisp but with a soft, bright quality to the light that speaks of impending summer and hope. I walked from the bus stop on Park Lane Berkley Square Bruton Street
It was a small but exceedingly good group. Another problem with accepting invitations like this is I almost invariably end up with the opposite – large, bad groups. People I don’t know (and will never want to become more acquainted with), or those I do know and really wish I didn’t. I knew most of the people, two of them very well, and everyone was interesting and amusing. And Clovis Taittinger (yes, that is indeed his name – taken from a barbarian king, apparently). I don’t know why a parent would want to name a child after a barbarian but in this case the name fits, although he is the very model of refinement. He turned out to be one of the funniest and most charming Champenois I have ever met. And I have met a few.
The wines were lovely. Remember that I am generally not a fan of anything but low dosage, small grower Champagnes Champagne
We drank 2000, 1999 and 1998 with lunch and the ’99 was a clear favourite for me. Leaner and more austere than the others; it had classic Blanc de Blancs crisp, fresh elegance and went down a treat. As did the food. God, I LOVE the food. Soft shell crab and a selection of dim sum to start followed by quail, chicken and cod.
I am sure you understand that the dishes were rather more complex than just the various proteins listed above but at that point, I was no longer taking notes. I ate really rather a lot. Although I drank more. Clovis Paris
Comptes Rose followed the Blanc de Blancs and while Prestige Cuvee Roses are seen by many as essentially the most special of the most special, I will take the former every time. The Rose was not bad wine, not at all, but for me it lacked the complex elegance I love so much about great Champagne
Nocturne (the Taittinger sec style) was served with the desserts which were equally fabulous, although I am afraid that all I can report on them is that they were sweet and cold, so I am thinking sorbets, ice creams and possibly even a foam or two. Overall, I was impressed. I was certainly very happy which is what drinking a lot of great champagne is supposed to do to one. Happy enough that when Nigel roundly derided natural wines, I found it hilarious. This would not normally be the case but everything was funny at that point and as I really like and respect Nigel, I don’t mind his tirades, so even that didn’t take the shine off.
Eventually though, through a joyful mist of lovely bubbly (Clovis London
Walking in London London on Champagne
One ill-advised phone call (another reason not to drink too much but no matter, it's too late now), and a triumphant walk later, I was at a tasting with the sommeliers and the bar manager at a new hotel. While those who know me well will know how a sentence like the above would normally speak of feelings of profound depression, goodly quantities of champagne or not, the miracle of the day remained strong.
These are good people – passionate about what they do and very proficient. It is always a pleasure to work with a team like that. The point of the tasting was for me to introduce them to some of the more esoteric natural wines on the list, so not only was I tasting some of those I love most in the world, and I was doing it with three people who really appreciated them. We tasted a range and then went back and drank a glass of the Puzelat Pett Natt, which had been the first wine we tasted. It was a perfect end to a pretty perfect day.
Even the crowded, rush hour tube ride home didn’t faze me. I had to admit to myself that I really was not at all sober when my sister had to talk me down from doing something which would have been a grave mistake. I can only thank Bacchus that I phoned to tell her what I planned, as opposed to communicating that it had just been done. Making a chocolate tart seemed the only sensible alternative, and it was actually pretty good.
The preparation of it happened in a musical style. There was singing and dancing but not, as far as I remember, any loss of efficiency with the cooking, despite the choreography. My short crust pastry is coming on a treat and I am bound to declare that as drunken behaviour goes, musical baking is in an entirely different category to the abduction of traffic cones or public nudity.
Sadly, I paid a price the next day. My body really is not any longer good at processing what for me is a large quantity of alcohol, and if the wines are not completely natural (even if they are made to the highest conventional standards), it is amazingly hard going the day after. In the end it was a two day hangover – I still felt tired, disconnected and queasy on Saturday. On balance, still worth it, but given the come down, it is not something I would want to repeat often.
So – the most important lesson to be derived from my experience is to plan lunchtime Bacchanalia’s around only the most natural wines and not necessarily discount such activity as a waste of time. Then to use the time which has been made benign and hopeful by good wine to do useful things. Like flirting. And baking.
With a hotel opening weeks away and the world of Green & Blue no less fraught than ever I really should have found a way to decline. But I didn’t. And that turned out to be an excellent decision.
The preparation of it happened in a musical style. There was singing and dancing but not, as far as I remember, any loss of efficiency with the cooking, despite the choreography. My short crust pastry is coming on a treat and I am bound to declare that as drunken behaviour goes, musical baking is in an entirely different category to the abduction of traffic cones or public nudity.
