Rhubarb, Elderflower & Mint Wine 2020 - The Making Of...

It is with this wine that I say Adieu to my forties. They have mostly been very kind to me. At their start I was just finishing off my MA in Medieval Studies and now at their close I am in a job that I enjoy and I feel settled in my life. The decade has seen two redundancies, a published book, moving house, a dear friend dead, two new cats, a strange and frightening world order, two nephews and the current pandemic. Put like that, my forties sound far more traumatic than they, in fact, were. They have certainly not been uneventful. What better way to mark their close than (or, alternatively, as I had a free Saturday, how else should I spend it except by) making Rhubarb, Elderflower and Mint wine?

Our rhubarb is very much past its best, so I sent a message to Liz to find out if she had any spare. Happily she had plenty and brought round 2 lbs. I managed to get a further pound from our plants to obtain the 3 lbs required for the recipe.

About half the elderflowers came from the elder tree growing in the Synagogue hanging over our back fence; the rest came from trees on Bentcliffe Drive and the elder in Allerton Grange Field. Stripping these to get a pint of flowers was always going to be the dullest part of making this wine, but was enlivened by listening to Mark Steel's in Town on BBC Sounds.

Over the past few years my 'handful of mint' used in this wine has been getting larger and Claire thinks that this is to the wine's detriment. Therefore this year I have only picked a small handful - and mostly spearmint (rejecting those leaves with cuckoo spit on them).

I chopped the rhubarb into thin pieces and put this, the elderflowers and the chopped mint into my bucket with 3 lbs of sugar. I poured over 6½ pints of boiling water and left this overnight. On Sunday morning, 14th June (my 50th birthday), I put in a teaspoon of yeast, nutrient and pectolase.

I meant to put all this into its demijohn on Friday night, but instead had a Zoom meeting with Rachel and Duncan, where we drank a gin and tonic and then a bottle of (real) red wine. Doing anything productive after that was not going to happen. Instead, the wine went into its demijohn on Saturday morning, 20th June. It is a light pink and fermenting as it should.

The wine and Kato

If you want to see how this wine came out, click here.

Julia's Wines - Elderberry 1993, 15th February 2020

I took this bottle over to Ros's, where we were planning the music for Alex and Vicky's wedding this September. The bottle was only three-quarters full and by the time it had spent half an hour's walk in the rucksack, it appeared to be fizzy. Things did not bode well. However, and with much surprise all round, this was rather drinkable. It had that cross-between sherry & port feel that wines this age tend to acquire - but it hadn't gone off. We all had a glass - raising them to Julia.

A photo taken on 16 February

 - a greengage tree being planted

Julia's Wines: Elderflower 1993 - 16th February 2019

It has been a long time since we opened a bottle of Julia's ancient wines. When this one was being made, I was sitting my Law Society Finals and would not meet Claire for another two years.

I took the bottle to Ros's for an evening of Board Games and hilarity, and it was appropriate that Julia was represented. The wine looked beautiful and had an attractive scent. We all raised our glasses, toasted Julia, took a sip and poured the wine down the sink. It had not aged well.

Blackcurrant and Raspberry Wine - Eighth Bottle (A4), 10th November 2018

I thought that a bottle of wine closely associated with Julia would be a suitable one for a Rydal committee meeting at our house. It is strange that she died four and a half years ago - it seems like both so much more recently and so much longer at once. We raised our glasses to her and got on with the business of the evening - which was idle gossip and laughter. In theory, Matt, Jane, Jayne, Nick and I were meeting to plan Rydal 2019 and discuss issues arising from that. In practice we did little of the sort (though not none). It was a fabulous evening and this bottle emptied quickly.

Blackcurrant & Raspberry Wine - Sixth Bottle (B1), 7th April 2017

This wine is better than I had remembered. It has matured nicely and has developed a sherry taste, while still being distinctly fruity. We took it to Ros's for an evening of wine, nibbles and conversation. It was meant to be Book Group, but so many people could not make it that we have postponed. This allowed us to catch up with Ros properly - it has been too long.

We drank a toast to Julia, finished the bottle quickly, opened another (real wine this time) and finished that too. The walk home did not feel as long as the walk there. Funny that.

Blackcurrant & Raspberry Wine - Fifth Bottle (A2), 5th August 2016

It seemed fitting that Julia's Memorial Wine* made an appearance on the last night of Rydal. I poured several people a taste and we raised our glasses to her. The wine was thinner than I remember but still entirely quaffable. We then had a riotous and noisy evening of quizzes, games and far too much to drink. This involved having to sing a limerick** composed by Sooz about Albert Ketelbey to the tune of Ding Dong Merrily on High. And that doesn't sound surreal at all.

* I call this wine 'Memorial Wine' because it was made from the contents of Julia's freezer, which I took after she died in 2014. I try to drink this wine with people who remember her. She always came to Rydal and was an excellent stage manager for our last night shenanigans.

**There once was a man called Ketelbey
Who went for a walk of a Fell. Be-
-fore he set out
He was crippled with doubt
About something but he wouldn't tell me.

Our friend, a nice double bassist
Was very soon on the case, est-
-ablished his doubt
Was because he'd found out
That his music was casually racist

Julia's Wines - Raspberry 1995, 28th May 2016

With apologies to Julia, this wine was godawful. It had an interesting smell of jam but the taste was synthetic and nasty. There was only the barest hint of raspberry. I managed to finish my glass and Ros said it wasn't the very worst wine she had ever had (without elaborating what was). Otherwise everyone else had one sip and the bottle was emptied into the sink. It was a wonderful evening, though - Game's Night at Ros's, and six of us were there. We played four games - Pit, Saboteur, Ex Libris, and Ticket to Ride. All were great fun and I won the first and last. (Not that I am at all competitive or care deeply about these things.)

Dandelion Wine 2016 - The Making Of ...

On the four-hundredth anniversary of Shakespeare's death I found myself in a field on the edge of Gledhow Valley Woods picking dandelions for wine. A quick trawl of the internet tells me that Shakespeare never mentioned dandelions by name and only referred to them obliquely (if that) in Cymbeline: "Golden lads and girls all must / As chimney sweepers, come to dust." I was early enough in the season to catch them before the flowers became clocks and 'come to dust'. Indeed, 23rd April - St George's Day - is the traditional day on which to pick dandelions for wine.

My plan had been to collect flowers from the allotments off Harrogate Road, but all entrances were locked and since Julia died I no longer have access. I wandered around the adjacent park, where dandelions were sparse and mostly half-opened, and then down the hill to Gledhow Valley Road, where I saw an open area of grass dotted with points of gold. From here my spirits lifted and I picked six pints of flowers in the sunshine, feeling only slightly self-conscious as cars, joggers and pedestrians passed.

Back home, after all of Saturday's chores and a quintet rehearsal, I started taking the petals from the green base of each dandelion head. This was slow going and I had little time, so after doing about a tenth, I gave up and poured all flowers into the stock pot. I covered this with seven pints of water and put in 2 lbs 9 oz of sugar and the thin peelings of two lemons and an orange. This was brought up to the boil and I let it boil for either ten or twenty minutes (I forget). Meanwhile I minced half a kilo of sultanas and squeezed the juice from the lemons and orange and put these in the bucket. Once the dandelions had finished boiling I poured all this in too and let it sit overnight.

On Sunday morning I added a teaspoon each of nutrient, tannin and pectolase and sprinkled in the yeast.

After a very busy Thursday at work, getting everything done before a week's holiday in Cornwall and staying until 6:30, I put this into its demijohn. Its colour is a gorgeous mustard yellow and I get a good feeling about this wine.

The gorgeous yellow doesn't look quite as biege as this!

If you want to see how this wine turned out, click here.

Blackcurrant & Raspberry Wine - Third Bottle (B5), 7th November 2015

Claire had the idea that we should drink this wine with people who knew Julia. Bob and Judith were here this weekend, and whilst Judith never met her, Bob spend a number of Rydals in Julia's company.

The Aged Ps were here to help with the House, so Claire set the septuagenarians to work, stripping paint off skirting boards and painting undercoats onto walls. Judith brought the evening meal with her - casseroled pork - and the wine went well with it. It is a fabulous bottle, full of rich fruit flavours.

Julia's Wines - Redcurrant 1995, 20th September 2015

We finally buried Julia. On Sunday her ashes were interred along with those of her mother and Mrs Soots the cat, beneath a weeping lime. It was a glorious morning - crisp early autumn filled with light. Madrigals were sung and Steffan read The Dorking Thigh. We covered Julia's ashes with rose petals, rosemary and a helping of Sam Smith's Ale. At the end of the ceremony a frog hopped its merry way through the grass. Of course I opened a bottle of her wine that evening. It is what she would have wanted.

Blackcurrant & Raspberry Wine - Second Bottle (A6), 15th August 2015

I took this bottle to a Feast at Ros's. Bob, Julia's brother, had come up from Kent and we spent much of the evening drinking far too much and talking about Julia. Her house has finally sold which means Emma will need somewhere to live. It was lovely to see Bob - there is a large amount of Piggott in him (which is unsurprising).

The wine was fruity and light and sweet and delicious, and I think most people agreed.

I disgraced myself at the end of the night by falling asleep in an armchair, waking only to apologise when the taxi arrived.

Derek Piggott - Julia and Bob's father

Julia's Wines - Cider (Undated), 18th June 2015

I wanted a bottle of something that Julia had made on what would have been her 63rd birthday. What I had not planned to do was kick over the glass holding two thirds of a bottle of cider after only having had one sip. Our carpet now smells of apples. Oh well - this was one of Julia's lesser efforts: thin, dry and vinegary.

Blackcurrant & Raspberry Wine - First Bottle (A3), 8th May 2015

Julia died a year ago today, and we marked her passing with a bottle of the wine made from the fruit I found in her freezer when clearing the house. She would have been very happy that I put her frozen fruit to such good use. This wine is excellent: rich and rounded and fruity, at the right sweetness level and extremely drinkable.

We drank it in Suffolk on our first night of a holiday with Rachel, Duncan, Nick and Ann. The drive from Leeds to Aldeburgh took somewhat over five hours and, thankfully, was uneventful. Today's most notable event was a text from Ocado at 8 a.m. saying "We have cancelled your order. Operational Difficulties. Sorry." I was fuming, and sent them several e-mails telling them so.


If you want to see how I made this wine, click here.

Julia's Wines - Elderflower 1993, 7th February 2015

Not one of Julia's best. This wine was drinkable but was thin and not very interesting. The elderflower taste was hardly there. I apologised to Julia (in absentia) as I reached for the Prosecco instead. The evening as a whole was fantastic, though. Claire cooked many curries and we feasted with Ros, Emma, Christian and Kate. There was much laughter, plenty to drink and we ended the night playing Ex Libris. Which I won convincingly (he said, smugly). Claire and I did not get to bed until well past midnight, and that never happens. We already setting dates for the next get together.

Crab Apple & Strawberry Wine - Second Bottle (4), 7th February 2015

I have just counted up. We got through seven bottles last night. Between six of us. No wonder my head is pounding. This Crab Apple & Strawberry was one of the early ones and the only one of mine. The occasion was a Feast for Julia - or at least for six of those who miss her. As well as us two, there was Ros, Emma, Christian and Katie.

We drank this bottle to the starters, which were puris filled with spicy potatoes and tamarind sauce, and a savoury cake made with yoghurt and gram flour, topped with chillies, coriander and mustard seeds. This was a tantalising hint for the food to come.

The crab apple & strawberry was a good bottle - dry and interesting, and I was gratified to see the guests having a second glass.

Crab Apple Wine - Eighth Bottle (C2), 20th December 2014

It must nearly be Christmas: we have started the annual jigsaw puzzle. In past years this has been a gift from Julia. This year it is from Mom. The image is Van Eyck's Madonna with Canon Joris van der Paele, the original of which we saw in Bruges and is an amazing piece of art.

There is something very companionable about working quietly on a jigsaw together, drinking crab apple wine on a Saturday night. Rock and roll, however, it demonstrably is not.

Julia's Wine - Redcurrant 1994 - 15th November 2014

There were only two wines served at my wine party that achieved a higher score than 4 (out of 5). I did not make either of them. Julia's Redcurrant came second with 4.108, and I imagine she would have been delighted. Her wine did not taste much of its base fruit and, as I imagine happens with all aged country wines, appears to have turned into sherry. It was lovely, though, and the guests agreed. Those that got a taste. Ros, Alex and Vicky confessed that they were responsible for this being the first empty bottle of the evening.

Rose Petal Wine - Fourth Bottle (A4), 14th September 2014

I wanted to take something nice to Ros's and chose Rose Petal as a likely contender. Ros had invited us for Sunday lunch. When I checked my diary and found I was busy in the early afternoon, Ros explained that Sunday Lunch in the Lehany household meant a good while after six in the evening.

Claire and I walked over, through Gledhow Valley Wood, and were greeted by a couple of generous gins. The roast lamb was delicious too. I, of course, ate and drank too much, but had a lovely evening in which we narrowed the shortlist of trees to dedicate to Julia. The wine was fine, if not excellent, and I noticed that Alex only had one glass.

A potential tree for Julia - popular with bees and pyramid in shape

Elderberry Wine 2014 - The Making Of ...

Elderberries near Castle Howard

I have picked my elderberries in stages this year. The first lot were picked in Hookstone Forest near Harrogate on a sunny Sunday afternoon while Claire was at a wool festival. After some searching, I found a tree laden with fruit and picked well over a pound in about 15 minutes.

The next lot were picked on the verge of a track leading to the Yorkshire Arboretum. We were there to choose a tree for Julia in commemoration of a life lived well. I guessed, correctly, that there would be no elders in the Arboretum, on account of their prolific thuggishness, but was keen to involve Julia in this wine. There was only one suitable elder even leading up to it. While I was picking berries a Castle Howard gardener came through a gate and told me I needed the land-owner's permission for foraging. We then had a conversation about elder trees in general and elderberry wine in particular, and he allowed me to continue with barely a harumph.

My final set of elderberries came from trees close to home, mostly on the way to Meanwood. Stonegate Fields had too few, and I suspect this is my fault for over-picking elderflowers, but I found some good trees near Potternewton Lane.

With all my picking I ended up with 5 lbs 14 oz berries, and I judged this to be enough. Stripping them was made bearable by Radio 4 and the Dum Tee Dum podcast, and I eventually removed the juices staining my hands. (NB - If you click the link, and fast forward to 43:46, you will hear me ring in, and then a huge discussion of home-made wine. It is officially very funny. And then I appear right at the end at 57:00 - ish)

My stained left hand

I crushed the berries on Sunday afternoon, 14th September, in a two hour slot I had after playing a trio with Madeleine in St Edmund's Church and before going to Ros's for a roast. In this time I also made a chilli, washed up and bottled my lemon & lime wine, which was some going. I added 5 lbs sugar and 12 pints of boiling water to the crushed elderberries. On Monday morning I put in the yeast and a teaspoon each of nutrient and pectolase.

Elderberry Wine and Fuschias - a still life (with foot)

I didn't have an opportunity until Saturday morning, 20th September, to put this into its demijohns. It was an early morning job: I sieved out the elderberries, filling two demijohns while listening to the Today programme, which was dominated by discussions of Scotland's 'No to Devolution' vote. I think I'm pleased with the decision, but I fear the political games that David Cameron will now play. Anyway, the elderberry wine is in its demijohns, bubbling away, and as ever is pleasingly purple.

Pleasingly Purple

Julia's Wine - Redcurrant 1996, 1st August 2014

It is the last night of Rydal and therefore an entirely suitable occasion for one of Julia's wines. I think she would be pleased to have made a contribution to the frivolities - some of which involved me spitting hotdogs into a bucket. I made sure that several people had a glass and we toasted Julia, for she is much missed.

The wine was definitely drinkable. It was too sweet for my liking and there was no taste of redcurrant. Leo enjoyed it, though, and compared it to a sherry.

The view from our bedroom window at Rydal Hall