I'm back from an extended absence - a lovely trip to Japan has kept me away from the world of wine in the UK and it's fair to say that the wine we know and love is not exactly "Big in Japan".  Wine is available in many hotel bars and several restaurants but the choice was often limited to "glass wine".  This is essentially the translation for "wine by the glass".  Sometimes it wasn't even clear if this would be white, red, Japanese or anything else.  Where "western" wines were spotted, they tended on the whole to be French, though I did see some Californian, and German Riesling featured at one venue.  We also enjoyed a bottle of Cave de Turckheim Alsace Riesling in a fine dining experience or "kaiseki-ryōri" as it's called in Japanese, at one of  the hotels we stayed it.  It almost stood up to the food, but in the end, we mostly stuck to beer and saké.  In the end, I only sampled a couple of Japanese whites, and wasn't able to find out anything important about them, not even the grape variety.  I don't think France needs to panic just yet, as what I drunk had more of an apple cider finish than a wine finish, but I guess, it's early days for the Japanese wine industry and they've mastered whiskey (more of this later) so you never know...

Japan was a wonderful country to visit and explore, though I think Mr Purple Teeth won't mind if he never seens another Buddhist or Shinto shrine in the next decade.  I'd wanted to visit since I was 8 years old, and finally my dream was realised.  It was definitely worth waiting for. There are so many new flavours to explore, so many new foods to try, and so many unsampled alcohols, that while I did miss my wine at first, I soon got into the swing of ordering local drinks, confidently in my best phrase book Japanese.  I won't say I fully understood what all of them were, nor that I'd drink them back home in the UK, but they added to the experience.  If you'd like to try some for yourself, the Japan Centre has the UK's largest selection of saké, including the Gekkeikan Petit Moon, which we tasted in Kyoto, and were reliably informed was a very good one.  It turns out to be the choice of the Imperial Household, so maybe we did learn a thing or two while we were there.
Our travels took us from Tokyo's bustling Megopolis to Nikko, a world heritage site dating back around 400 years. On from there to Hakone, a very quiet and scenic countryside area where we stayed in a luxurious ryōkan, to experience the onsen (hot spring baths) and the fine dining culture of multi-course meals with many separate dishes even within one course.  We then hit Osaka, home of the Japanese comedy scene (which of course we didn't see), and Okonomiyaki - a kind of Japanese street food, pancake style.  We certainly came back to reality here after 2 such luxurious days. 

Our next stop was humbling Hiroshima, and onto a tiny island - also a world heritage site - Miyajima, finishing our trip in the centre of Japanese traditional culture, Kyoto.  It was a lot to pack in and we covered many miles, but the Japanese bullet trains are extremely efficient and once you get your head round the unbelievable scale of some of the Japanese train stations, they are by far the best way to travel around the country. We used the Japan Rail Pass, which entitles you to travel on all but the Nozomi (the latest and fastest bullet train) and any JR train for 7 or 14 days.  Despite not being on the fastest train, we still reached speeds of almost 200mph! A real highlight for me was seeing the glorious Mount Fuji from the bullet train on the way back to the airport on my last day.  We'd hoped to be able to view it on our travels around Hakone, but the weather wasn't on our side.  Luckily, I looked out of the window at the right time!

So what about Japanese flavour?  I'll start with the ice cream flavours.  We've all experienced vanilla Mr Whippy. You may even have had half strawberry and half vanilla if you're exotic, but nothing could have prepared me for the multi-flavoured Japanese versions.  The list of flavours was seemingly endless at many locations, and for the sake of my waistline, I could only taste a few.  My favourite was doubtless the first one I tried: Sakura, or cherry blossom flavour.  The Japanese have a particular obsession with cherry blossom and organise viewing parties, office outings, boat trips etc to take in the beautiful sight of all the trees in bloom.  Needless to say, travelling during the peak blossom season is extremely expensive so we had just missed it, but this was a lovely way to enjoy the treat.  Next I went for rose flavour, which was also a delicate floral and reminscent of Turkish Delight, as you'd expect. 
I was so successful with the floral flavours that I got braver.  I wish I had stuck to flowers and tried hydrangea, but I couldn't resist trying Black Sesame, if only to experience such a weird looking icecream.  It was certainly sesame flavour, and perhaps a bit more savoury than most ice cream lovers would enjoy, but I found it refreshing after a long mountain hike, and as our ferry and train connection back to Hiroshima was the only bit of travel where we suffered a delay, it served to stave off the need for dinner!  Finally, I wanted to come back to the cherry blossom flavour, but I felt I owed it to myself to try a new flavour, so I went for a compromise of cherry blossom and green tea (matcha).  Japanese green tea is rather odd - it's not at all like what I'd experienced in Hong Kong.  It's more or less a powder which dissolves in water, so while it's handy that there are no leaves, it is almost like pea green soup in colour, and some of the ones we sampled had a real seaweed tang.  I found the roasted kind slightly more bearable, but I really wasn't a fan.  If I was  to develop a taste for it, I thought ice cream would be the way to go.  But sadly, it just served to ruin my sakura flavour.  A sad end to my ice cream experiences!  
However, it did lead to a rather nice customer service moment.  I'd walked down a thronging tourist trap street with my ice cream and it was melting fast.  I was literally covered in a pink and green sticky mess without so much as a napkin.  Another ice cream seller (not connected to the one I'd bought from) rushed out from her shop with some wet towels to allow me to wash myself down, and then disposed of my rubbish for me.  All without me spending one yen with her.  Now that is the kind, friendly and attentive service which we loved in Japan.  For those of us who grew up watching Tenko, it's hard to reconcile just how warm Japanese people can be.  It is true to say that we often felt invisible, but when it comes to customer service, I had no complaints at all.  And coming from me, that's pretty remarkable!

A customer experience highlight came in Osaka in the most unlikely place.  We had expected Osaka to be party central, but it was a wet weekend, and after the Friday night when all the salary men and office ladies vacated their workplaces and hit the bars around 7pm, the Saturday and Sunday nights seemed deathly quiet.  This may have been our location, or a factor of the economy?  Or, perhaps they party so hard after work, they've no energy left to party for the rest of the weekend?  In any case, we'd visited  a semi Australian style bar on the Friday early evening happy hour, called Captain Kangaroo.  On Sunday night, almost in despair, we returned around 8pm, looking for somewhere lively and the barman (Hiroshi?) kindly remembered us.  He chatted with us for a while and then we asked for some advice on where to dine that evening.  After discussing the sort of thing we were looking for, his colleague (Nozomi?) came up with the perfect Teppan place, where Yakitori was almost an art form, with over 40 different kinds of grilled skewers. It sounded (and was) perfect, and despite the wet weather and having drawn us a map, Nozomi decided to call the restaurant to check they were open and had space, and then accompanied us right to the door!  Now that is the kind of service that makes me recommend a non-traditional, tired looking Australian bar in Osaka.  














The restaurant itself was very simple but the range of things we tried that night was incredible and almost all met with our approval, though the Konjaku with Roe was hideous despite it's top 10 position. The staff confirmed it's not one that foreigners appreciate, AFTER we'd tried it. I became the centre of attention, with the staff stopping work to photograph me downing in one, accompanied by extreme chanting, their one dessert skewer (actually more of a slider of grilled sweet potato topped with a small ball of vanilla ice cream).  The restaurant was called Teppanjinjya, but I don't have the address, so if you can't find it, pop into Captain Kangaroo and ask them for the Teppan place near Dojima and hopefully they can point you in the right direction to experience grilled Gingko nuts, beef neck, ginger, Japanese green peppers, mountain yam and many more which we didn't try, such as chicken gizzard...

It wouldn't be Purple Teeth if we didn't talk about alcohol.  In the end, we probably drunk more beer than anything else, with Asahi being the most common lager we sampled.  Others such as Kirin, and Sapporo are also widely available in the UK but slightly tastier were Suntory Premium Malts, which, as you'd expect, had a lot more malty flavour and Yebisu.  My personal favourites were the "black beers" or stouts.  I tried Kirin and Yebisu, both of which were pretty good, but my favourite came in a can, from  Japan's first micro brewery, Echigo.  You really can taste the difference when beer is made in small quantities by people who care, rather than by mass production.

When it comes to Japan and alcohol, there can be no more iconic drink than saké, or "Japanese Rice Wine". In Japan, saké can actually mean any kind of alcohol so it's a good idea to ask for it by the name Nihonshu. Funnily enough, for all we know it as rice wine, it's actually closer to beer in the way it's produced, via a brewing process, where the starch in one of 80 types of special saké rice (shuzō kōtekimai) is converted into sugar for fermentation.  The rice is polished prior to fermentation to remove the bran and the different grades of saké depend on the degree of polish (up to 50% of the grain can be removed just leaving the pure and essential starch). While the alcohol level is similar to wine, the appearance and flavour is closer to a spirit.  This is an unusual drink which can be served warm, chilled, at room temperature, frozen or on the rocks, or, even diluted with warm or cold water or in a cocktail.  You wouldn't be doing that with many wines, beers or spirits.  I must admit, I didn't try warm saké and I only drunk it neat, cold and very cold, mostly served in the traditional way where the glass is filled to the brim and overspill is drunk from the saucer underneath.  
The most unusual one we sampled was Nigorizake which was kindly bought for us by a complete stranger.  This is a cloudy type drink, which looks like milk but is essentially unfiltered saké, a bit like wine with the lees stirred through and not filtered.  Technically and legally, this can't really be called saké in Japan. Seishu (清酒), "clear/clean sake", is the Japanese legal definition of sake and refers to sake in which the solids have been strained out, leaving clear liquid.  Saké can also be dry or sweet, and though this information can be found on the label, I had no idea how to read it.  Most of those I tried were dry although I'm not sure whether sweet really refers to noticable sugar on the palate, or whether this simply refers to the degree of smoothness and body.  Certainly that varied.  I found the flavours to be quite hard to name, but primarily herbal aromas and they reminded me of a Scottish sweet favoured by Sunday School teachers, OddFellows!  Or maybe that's just me.  

The final Japanese traditional alcohols we tried in lower quantities.  The first was Shochu - again, through remarkable customer service.  We gingerly entered a very local local pub (or Izakaya) in the Shinjuku area of Tokyo on a Saturday night.  The staff came rushing over waving their hands and saying "No English Menu".  This was clearly their attempt to signal that this was a real "local" bar and we shouldn't really be entering.  However, we indicated we only wanted to drink and one staff member managed a bit of English.  With the help of our Collins Phrasebook, we were soon sampling beer and saké.  There were lots of bottles lined up on shelves that looked to me like saké, but which clearly weren't.  I asked what they were and was told "hard liquor".  Turns out shochu is a distilled spirit made primarily from sweet potatoes, barley, rice or wheat, and I guess, is Japan's answer to Vodka.  We were kindly poured a glass, on the house, after we managed to order some food by pointing at what other people were having.  From the appearance of unwelcome, came a great welcome.  
I also tried Umeshu, another Japanese product erroneously known as wine, in this case, Plum Wine.  Umeshu is actually more similar to what Brits would recognise as Sloe Gin, given that it's essentially a liqueur based on adding Japanese yellow plums and sugar to shochu raw spirit.  This is diluted down to around 15% and I drunk it as recommended, on the rocks. My first experience of this was in the bar where the kind gent had bought us cloudy saké.  I felt bold after a few drinks and so went for it.  Little did I know it was actually home made!  Luckily, I lived to tell the tale and enjoyed it, despite the hint of almond flavour.  It did seem to me ironic that we often describe red wine as having plum flavours and this alcohol produced with plum had virtually no recognisable plum flavour at all! 

 Finally, and only sampled once, I couldn't call myself a Scot if I didn't scornfully sample Japanese Whisky.  

















Quite how they are getting away with calling it "whisky" (without the e - a spelling normally reserved for Scotch) I don't know, but I saw plenty of bottles labelled this way, so it clearly wasn't a one off mistake.  I took the opportunity of a hotel "happy hour" to sample the Yamizake 12 year old single malt, served containing the world's largest "single ice cube". It was smooth and somewhat reminscent of a Speyside style but with a bit more smoke.  I had expected to be horrified, but sadly for the Scotch industry, the Japanese do seem to have developed some skill in the production of our national drink.  On the other hand, true Scotch was still widely available, and with virtually no price differential, I think there is still a market for Scotland's finest.  

I won't bore you with the rest of our food exploits as this could go on for a long time and this post is already plus-sized Instead I'll leave you with some pictures from both our fine dining, and not so fine eating experiences.  And I'll also leave you with this thought: if you have a dream to visit somewhere, taste something, experience something new, don't hold back.  Go for it.  You only get one life and when you live a dream, it really is special.  I'm more than happy to chat to anyone about this, or to offer wine tasting experiences, so feel free to get in touch if you're feeling inspired.

Back to Wine of the Week next week.  Thanks for reading!  Kampei!

As Wine of the Week is on hiatus, I wanted to quickly share this gem of a bargain from Tesco before departing for Japan.
For those of you unconvinced by Riesling, this is a great opportunity for a low risk retrial. It's bone dry, so if you don't like sweeter styles, this could be the one for you.
It's only 11.5% abv, making it great for accompanying summer salads without getting seriously squiffy.
Marlborough, you'll recall from a post a couple of weeks ago, is home of New Zealand's signature grape, Sauvignon Blanc. Here, it's producing a wonderfully zesty and mouthwatering Riesling full of nectarine, lemon and just a hint of minerality on the finish.
It's perfect for pairing with smoked salmon, tomato salads, and monkfish or prawn spicy Thai curries - foods where you won't want to splash out £15 on a bottle that might not work.
I don't know how long the offer is running, and I'm not sure I'd pay £11 for this at full price, but meanwhile, snap up a bargain!

I'll admit it.  I'm a big fan of Shiraz.  I'm partial to a Syrah too (the same grape but usually produced in a more restrained "elegant" form, to use winemaker speak).  The big, bold Barossa beasts do it for me, though.  So when a Purple Teeth reader insisted on Asda and another advised they were a confirmed Shiraz fan, it was time to find a bargain for Wine of the Week.  So here we are.  The wine is produced by Wolf Blass and the region is "South East Australia".  In geography terms, that's like saying the wine is made in Europe...  
Large producers like Wolf Blass need to be able to come up with tons of reliable and consistent product to produce a brand that consumers love and trust, and they do so, at a rock bottom price, here (£5), by sourcing grapes from a large expanse, much of which is produced mechanically and using irrigation in otherwise barren desert like conditions...  Mr Purple Teeth was a confirmed fan of Wolf Blass Yellow Label Cabernet Sauvignon when I met him 10 years ago, and although it's been a while, he had high hopes for this one.  

I sampled this on Bank Holiday Monday, after a weekend of enjoying some rather fine food and wine on a trip to Shropshire.  Perhaps that sets the seal on the fate of this one. But, though it pains me to say it, I was disappointed.  
A Purple Teeth reader commented via Facebook that he was thinking of reading my recommendations and doing the exact opposite, given that he loves Sauvignon Blanc and described Shiraz as basically fruit juice.  Well, Nisse from Sweden, if this is the type of Shiraz you've been drinking, I can see why you think that.  Trust me - this is not Shiraz as we know it. 
As far as red wine at £5 a bottle goes, there's nothing wrong with it.  It's easy drinking, medium-bodied, full of fruit flavour, and reasonably refreshing on a summery day.  Where I quibble, is that this wine is totally unrepresentative of Australian Shiraz at it's best.  I'd struggle to pick it out in a blind tasting, and bear in mind that Shiraz is probably the grape I consume most of among all vitis vinefera, so that's not a good sign.  
On the nose there is a hint of the black fruit and pepperiness, but nothing else that really marks this out as a Shiraz. Mr Purple Teeth was also unimpressed: "That's Wolf Blass? Really?".  
My guess is that the Vineyards Release Brand is generally at a lower price point than the Yellow or Red Label versions, and perhaps we've just become a bit spoiled with our £12 bottles...  

Last week, I had a glass of wine with another local wine blogger "Perfect Friday Wine".  She's made a pledge to never drink wine from "South East Australia" and so I was a tad embarrassed that this was on the same day as I'd declared one as my wine of the week...  After tasting it, I can see why she feels this way. This is a wine for people who don't really like wine.  It's very fruity, light and easy to drink, has zero complexity, an extremely short finish a very tiny hint of tannic spiciness, and apart from that, it's not got a lot to say for itself.  That's not to say it's undrinkable.  Far from it.  You could quaff several glasses and not really think twice.
The label, on the other hand, indicates I should find "lifted berry, spiced plum, red fruits, pepper and mocha oak on the palate", so perhaps I've just got some more work to do in refining my tastebuds.  At 13% abv, it's a lot lighter than many Barossa Shirazes, and was perfectly drinkable without food, although the suggested food matches are lamb or pasta.  But just to prove that we're all different, our Purple Teeth reader who incited my foray into Asda's wines, claims this to be one of her favourites.  And why not?  We're all different, and there's a wine out there for everyone.  That's why I get a tad annoyed when people say "I don't like wine", or "I only drink red".  Wine is an amazing product.  There's more variety than you can ever imagine, and the supermarket shelves just scratch the surface of what's available.
On my recent Shropshire trip, I had a good hour in Tanner's Cellars - a cathedral to wine if ever there was one.  True, there wasn't much available at £5 but they had a pretty great selection of wines under £7 and when you consider tax and duty is probably over £2.25 on every bottle, let's remember there's not a lot of wine value in a £5 bottle.    

Over the last few days I've drunk Grand Cru Alsace Gewurztraminer, Jurancon (France) Gros Manseng blend, a New Zealand Pinot Noir, which Mr Purple Teeth even loved, a German Riesling Kabinett, a South African Chenin Blanc, and a couple of Australian Shirazes.  And they were all incredibly different!  And that's without talking about the Tanner's tasting table.  

With Wine of the Week and Purple Teeth in general, I'd love to inspire you to try wines you'd never normally try; to experiment, to savour the difference, to look for food combinations, and to find a new favourite wine.  Do please let me know how you get on if you try something new.  I'd love to hear your stories.

Meanwhile, Wine of the Week will be going on hiatus.  I'm heading out to Japan on Thursday, and apart from Sake, I'm not quite sure what access I will have to wines that you might be able to get your hands on.  I've never tried sake before, so I will certainly do so and report back.  If you want some wine homework for the next month, then please try something new and post your photos and comments on the blog or on our Facebook page  so that our other readers can get to know what you all love.

I have a few new ideas for Wine of the Week, and would love to hear your own suggestions. This wine has intrigued me with the idea of comparing mass market versions with the "spiritual home" versions (generally at least £10 a bottle more), but whether that's a game you could or would play along with, I don't know.  Maybe I could do this as a monthly challenge, and perhaps even despatch the wines to you for tasting (for a fee of course).
So please feel free to interact with me here using the comments, or on Twitter and Facebook or Google Plus where I'm sure I'll find time to  play along during my travels.  

On my return from Japan, I'm off to Serbia to visit a winemaker, and more news of that will surely follow, and then, to Hungary for dancing, dancing and more dancing.  So, expect news of the next Wine of the Week in early June. Until then, Kampei!  Cheers!

Don't worry, this hasn't suddenly turned into a self help blog while you weren't looking. However, I do want to put this out there.  Life is for living, loving and making the most of.  And that's what I've been doing for the last 9 months since I swapped corporate security for the great unknown, a massive depletion of my savings, and a year or two of doing everything that I love the most.  With every month that passes my cash reserves are fewer but my memory banks are full to brimming with new experiences.

If you've read this blog more than once, it probably hasn't escaped your notice that I love to dance.  I recently taught my first ever dance psychology class, where I shared the belief that we dance to live, to express, to have fun, and for human contact.  Yes, we work hard to improve our skills, and that's part of the enjoyment, but the feeling that you get from sharing a magical four musical minutes with a master of your dance cannot be measured.  It can however be compared to the feeling we get when we take a first sip of a wine and we know, just know, that tonight's gonna be a good, good night and you're glad you've opened that special bottle even though it's not even 6pm on a Thursday.  


So, if nothing else, let this blog post inspire you to reach for your wine rack, dust off that bottle you've been saving and open it tonight.  Yes, tonight!  There is no better time than now to drink that good bottle.

My wine for this beautiful spring evening, after such a long, hard winter?  It's Rosacker Alsace Grand Cru Gewurztraminer 2011.  Don't try looking for it in any shops near you.  You may find it online, but this wine was a gift from one of my wonderful dancing friends.   He knows how much I love wine, and very kindly brought me this delicious bottle of nectar from the gods on his last trip to the UK.  I keep saying this, but I love my life!

Social dancing has brought me so much joy, and how wonderful to share the passion for dance with such kind people who remember your love of the wine from their region and bring a bottle when they visit.  
Life is sweet. Warning: wine can be too!

Onto the wine...  from the first sip, it can't be anything but an Alsace Gewurztraminer, and the long finish marks out that this is a Grand Cru quality wine. It has a viscous mouthfeel that would be at home in a vendange tardive or dessert wine, and lucious honey flavours that also make me think of sticky dessert wine.  I'd expected it to be a completely dry wine with it's 13.5% alcohol, but it's a medium style. And had I studied the label a little more closely before opening, I'd have been reliably informed of this detail. The warm Alsace sunshine, in the shadow of the Vosges mountains, produces such beautifully ripe grapes that they will ferment leaving around 30g+ of residual sugar per litre.  If you only drink dry wine, this may be a slight shock to you, but consider that one of the world's most renowned dessert wines, Sauternes, is likely to have around 100-150g/L and a Hungarian 5 puttonyos will have 120g while an Essenzia Tokaji  could have around 450g/L plus, you'll see that this must be described as medium.  
Don't let this put you off if you are a confirmed dry wine drinker.  And certainly don't be afraid to try wine in an Alsace flute shaped bottle.  Most on our supermarket shelves are dry, and when they are not, those French are kindly starting to get a bit more open about telling us what's inside.
The Gewurztraminer grape has relatively low acidity for a white, but here there is enough to create a crisp and mouthwatering feel to the wine, despite the relative sweetness.  

As you'd expect from a Gewurztraminer, there is an abundance of lychee and rose flavour that lingers long after you've swallowed the tiniest sip, as well as a hint of white pepper. My first taste had me running to the garden to enforce my husband to revel in the joyous sensations it stimulated in the mouth.  He made exactly the same sounds of approval as I had, and was slightly disappointed to be disappearing off to a sweaty badminton court, leaving me to luxuriate in this wine all on my own.

Generally, a wine like this would be paired with fruit based desserts,  strong cheeses, or exotic/spicy dishes (for example, Thai food). Website advice suggests Munster cheese and foie gras as the perfect partners.  The wine was delicious on it's own, but realising that just a bottle of this did not make a nutritious dinner, I set off for my local supermarket, on foot after my first glass, don't worry.  Despite living in The Royal Borough, my local branch of Waitrose don't seem to stock Foie Gras or Munster. The horror.  So it was left to me to choose some suitable alternatives.  Luckily, 2 of my favourite cheeses were discounted, a special reserve (24 months) Comté hard cheese and a soft, squishy, yet formidably pungent Epoisses from the Burgundy region.  In place of the foie gras, I selected a duck liver, champagne and truffle paté.  Well, you only live once and I don't eat like this every day...  It turned a mundane midweek evening into a feast fit for kings.  Yes, I'll say it again, but when you let it be, life can really be amazing.

The Rosacker is a Grand Cru site just north of Hunawihr in Alsace, which is just slightly south west of the centre of the Route des Vins d'Alsace in Ribeauville.  It's a tourist haven, filled with  flower covered cottages, and beautiful scenery. 
Previous trips to Alsace haven't exactly centred on wine. Visiting a cardboard box factory in Kaysersberg didn't quite lead me to appreciate the full beauty of the place.  As I learned the vocabulary for corrugated cardboard and throw up, I was left wondering if business travel could get less glamourous (clue: it could and did).   
A trip to Strasbourg is great from a cuisine perspective, and there's plenty to see, but it will leave you wondering where the grapes are.  
Hopefully this year, I'll make a more wine oriented trip to Alsace, although weekends are in short supply with all the dancing going on. Fitting in a trip is more challenging than I could have imagined. 

If any readers are interested in an organised trip to Alsace, I'm quite keen to take a group of people from London via Eurostar, and perhaps late August or early September would afford us the best opportunity to see the vines in full fruit and the summer blooms.  Let me know if you're interested and I'll try to set something up that's reasonably affordable, takes in good food and wine, and who knows, maybe even a dance or two.

Meanwhile, remember that this is the life you have.  There will be always be good days and days which you'd rather forget.  Make today a memorable day by opening that bottle you've been saving for a special occasion.  The wine becomes the special occasion. 
Do something you love, with someone you love.  Love Life. And if you don't, change something.
Cheers!

The Tasting Menu at the Compleat Angler, designed by Head Chef Tim O'Shea, is a cornucopia of all the ingredients I would choose in designing my own perfect tasting menu.  So, when some friends suggested a wine and dine lunch, we were quick to get our table booked.  

On Saturday 13th April, the date was set for a lovely lunch by the Thames in Marlow, Buckinghamshire. Sitting in the bar awaiting our friends, I enjoyed a nicely chilled Tio Pepe Fino as an aperitif, while Mr Purple Teeth when for his usual G&T. It's so gratifying to find at least one place in the region that knows how to serve a sherry.

The gastronomic delights were kicked off with an extremely tasty amuse-bouche of Leek and Potato Soup topped off with a Garlic Foam.  It was served in a shot glass and certainly awakened the palate ready for the meal ahead. It's also provided plenty of guessing game failures on my Facebook page!

The first course of the Tasting Menu (£55 per head, to be taken by the whole table) is Crab.  Cornish Crab is served with an Avocado Mousse, Avruga Caviar, Hay Baked Turnip, Sea Purslane and a rather interesting Negroni Jelly.    The matching wines suggested are offered for £40 per head and this dish was to be paired with a Bourgogne, Domaine Pierre Morey, 2008, a biodynamic Chardonnay (available from Davy's Wine Merchants for £18.95 a bottle).  I loved this dish, fresh, zingy flavours, and a cute presentation.  It was a real taste of spring and the sea which I chose to pair instead, with a bottle of Pazo Señoráns Albariño from Rias Baixas in Spain. I thought it would also help us through the second course. It's got green apple and citrus notes along with some hints of floral and mineral notes.  My dining companions were new to Albariño and this one was a nice introduction which they agreed complemented the dish.  It's available from Paul Adams Fine Wines for £15.75 a bottle.  Regular readers know that I love Albariño and it's a great match for any kind of fish.  I cannot urge you enough to try this grape next time you have fish, if you haven't already.

Our second dish was Pan Seared Scallop served on a Butternut Squash Purée with a thin slice of Slow-Cooked Pork Belly, Lemon Gel, & Sage Foam.  Again the Albariño worked quite well here though we moved onto our second bottle (designed to pair with the third dish) and drunk them side by side to test which worked best.  Both worked pretty well in different ways, though I'd stick with the Albariño for scallops in future.  The scallop was tender and perfectly seared with just the right amount of crispiness, and the presentation was again colourful and appetising.   The suggested wine pairing was a citrussy Verdejo "Quintaluna 2010" from Spain's Rueda region. At Justerini and Brooks, a case will set you back less than £5 a bottle.  While we didn't drink that wine, I'm sure it would match reasonably well and, if you've never tried Verdejo from Rueda, it's also worth a try.  It's a very refreshing, citrus lemon wine, which I'm pleased to see is being served in mini bottles aboard British Airways internal flights at the moment.  Yum!

Our next wine was another new one for my dining companions - Brumont Gros Manseng (2008), and if I'm honest, it probably was for me, though I had some clue what to expect as I've had several Petit Manseng based wines.  It's an indigenous grape from the south west of France, and given that it's frequently made into sweet wines, I thought its dry expression may make a nice blend between the scallop and our next dish of Sauté Foie Gras.  Despite being "old" for a dry white Vin de Pays, this still had plenty of gratifying tropical fruit flavours alongside floral notes, apricots, hints of lychee and some spice.  It doesn't seem to be easily available by retail though there is a version blended with Sauvignon Blanc which you should find more freely and probably has some fresher green fruit flavours. In this case, I think my choice was inspired compared to the Dornfelder Gau-Odenheimer Petesrberg 2008 (A German red with strawberry and raspberry flavours).  The Foie Gras was served with a rhubarb compote, ginger jelly and hazelnut biscotti, all of which went really well with the aromatic, floral and spicy notes in the Gros Manseng.  I was beginning to feel like a real wine buff as each dish seemed to be made to match the wines I'd chosen, and we were all tasting something new and interesting which we'd add to our regular drinks lists.

Our main course dish was a Roast Loin of Venison served with Cocoa Nib, Dark Chocolate Ganache, Red Cabbage, Parsnip & Venison Jus.  

Oh Venison, how I love thee! I love thee as slow cooked haunch, in pasta and in stew, but especially as rarely cooked loin, paired with sweet trimmings such as chocolate or red berries. Sorry Bambi!
It's perhaps a surprising menu choice for a spring menu, but I was glad of it's hearty warming flavours given the downpour which met us for most of April.  I decided to pair this with Amarone della Valpolicella, a 2005 Riserva Le Viole by Accordini.  My guests expressed a preference for this wine, and who am I to deny them?  After all, I realised I'd already blown the £40 a head wine budget we'd have spent on the matched wines. This is a wine I'd always choose to put with a red meat dish served with sweet sides such as red cabbage and parsnip, but in this case, the addition of chocolate made it a real winner.  Why? Because it's made from semi dried grapes and has some residual sweetness. The sommelier's suggestion was a Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon from the Colchagua Valley.  I can't imagine how a dry tannic cabernet would match this dish, but I've never tasted this one, and the critics' descriptions are rather alluring,  so perhaps it works.  We also added a cheese course, and Amarone is a red which can cope with the extra-strong cheeses I love.  The Cheese Course is an optional £10 supplement, a lot on top of a £55 meal. We cannot see past a good strong cheese, however, so we opted just to have cheese for two and share it between 4, which the restaurant were happy with.  Again, the cheeseboard felt like it had been designed around us with an amazing selection of pungent dairy produce such as Brie de Meaux, Epoisses and Comté from France and a more local Barkham Blue. The cheeses were served with crackers, bread, grapes and truffle or saffron honey as well as quince paste.  Why does cheese have to be so fattening?  I would eat a plate like that every day for breakfast if my arteries wouldn't harden within the week.

For the dessert wine, I reviewed the choices available, and compared the sommelier's selection and in this case, went with the suggestion.
I love Jurançon dessert wines, and this one "Clos Thou  - Supreme de Thou 2010" was just as pleasing as I'd anticipated, and a great match for both the pre-dessert, and the actual dessert on the menu. 
In a strange kind of symmetry, the wine is a blend of Gros Manseng (our second wine) and Petit Manseng (a grape which is thought to be related to Albariño.
The pre-dessert (which isn't listed on the menu) was, from what I can recall under alcohol soaked conditions, some kind of lychee sorbet.  There is a foam and a jelly but memories are sketchy aside from the fact that it was refreshing and got the palate ready for the ultimate in desserts, the Passion Fruit Soufflé served with a delicious creamy White Chocolate Ice Cream.  Heaven on a plate.
I simply can't imagine a better match for the wine, or a better dish to finish off a menu that could have been made just for me.  As for value, at £55 for 5 courses plus the amuse bouche and pre dessert, I think it's well worth the money.  I spent a little more than the sommelier would have on the wines, but from the feedback of my dining companions, it seems to have been appreciated.  I've had 3 tasting menus at The Compleat Angler now, and this one was my favourite, and I much preferred these wines to the ones they've recommended before. Maybe I got lucky, or maybe, I actually do know a thing or two.

Finally, because we never seem to know when we've had enough, we retired to the bar for a post-dinner drink.  I was excited by the prospect of one of the several fresh berry cocktails on the list, thinking these would continue the fruit flavours of the dessert course.  Sadly, none of them were available - a bit of an oversight, and just a slight blot on the review for the restaurant. Instead, I consoled myself with a Midori-fuelled blast from the past, the Apple & Melon Martini.  The Midori flavour set the tone for a really retro evening of BBC4's homage to the 80s synth pop era, about all I was good for after such an amazing day!

Remember folks, drinking this much with lunch, is not recommended on a regular basis, but for occasional splurges, just make sure you enjoy it as much as I did.