Pumpkin - Bottle 6, 7th-13th November 2011

Pumpkin wine gets no better the longer one leaves it. This was just as disgusting as all other bottles.

I opened it at BBC Radio Leeds, on air, for a live tasting event. It was an example of my worst wine, and I could not have chosen better. The interviewer declared it 'foul' which pleased me mightily. He told me to serve blackberry instead for Saturday's book launch. Of course, I served both, along with many other flavours and dared the attendees to sample the Pumpkin. I think most refused, judging by how much is still left in the bottle (destination: down the sink) but some were brave souls. Apparently Lindsay was the least taken with it, pulling all manner of faces.

I did not drink any at the book launch, but had my obligatory taste (a glass would have been pure masochism) on Sunday night after returning from a fabulous Airedale Symphony Orchestra concert. We played Tchaikovsky's 4th Symphony, and my adrenalin was up. Pumpkin wine did not take it down any - so I had a mug of bush tea and a slice of Judith's fruit cake instead.

Blackberry - Bottle C4, 7th-10th November 2011

This was one of two bottles opened live on BBC Radio Leeds, whilst I was being interview by Wes Butters to promote the Book. I took this, as an example of my best wine, and Pumpkin as an example of my worst and, despite it being not-yet-eleven, convince the interviewer to sample them both. He was suitably complementary about the blackberry, at least.

It was an interesting and fun experience - I felt myself relax into the role of interviewee, and listening to myself afterwards was not as mortifying as I had expected. I do have a posh and ever-so-slightly camp voice, though.

As Wes Butters had only drank a sherry glass full, I made sure I took the bottle away with me and it has been drunk slowly during the week. Wednesday's portion was after the best WYSO rehearsal we have had this season. Finally, finally 'Buckaroo Holiday' from Rodeo is starting to make sense. And the first and last movements of 'The New World Symphony' are just fab.

My Fifteen Minutes of Fame ...

This is a quick break to my normal posting, but I have just been on BBC Radio Leeds, and the link is here. I suspect this is only available to those in the UK, but I may be wrong - and it is only available until 14 November. My bit starts at 1:45:30 through.

Quince Wine - The Making of ...

I am gradually ticking off the letters of the alphabet in my wine making activities and today I reached the letter Q. I suspect that the letters I, V and Z will prove difficult.

Last week at Quintet, Jenny mentioned that Callum's parents were giving away quinces and was I in the market. I gave her an enthusiastic yes, despite this October having been particularly busy on the wine making front. We arranged, via e-mail, that Jenny would leave a bag of 20 quinces on her front doorstep on Monday night for me to collect after ASO. So, under cover of darkness (and a good deal of rain) I picked up a bag of fruit at 10 p.m. and drove off into the night.

20 Quinces, pre grating

I started making the wine on the evening of 18th October. Claire helped by cutting up the first 10 quinces for me to grate (using the food processor) before she retired to have a bath. I put these in 4 pints of water, brought it to the boil and boiled it for 15 minutes whilst I cut up the remaining 10 quinces, ready for grating. I then repeated the exercise.

Quinces are an ugly fruit - taking the worst part of lemons and pears and mixing them together. However, they emit a delightful fragrance when boiling.

The recipe says that I should strain the liquid onto 3 lbs of sugar, but it was getting late and this would have taken ages, so I just poured the whole lot into the bucket and planned to strain it on Sunday. I also added the grated zest and juice of two lemons. As is usual, the yeast and teaspoon each of nutrient and pectolase went in the next morning.

20 Quinces post grating (and in the bin)

I strained it all into its demijohn today, 24th October, rather than Sunday because we returned from a weekend in York relatively late. Straining was a faster process than I had anticipated, and I listened to Radio Leeds whilst doing so in preparation for my appearance in a fortnight. The questioning is hardly Paxmanesque, so I should be okay. Once in the demijohn I was worried this wine was not fermenting, and when I had a sip of the remaining liquid (of which there was at least a pint and a half too much) it was far too dry. I poured in two tablespoons of sugar into the neck, and this got everything bubbling away happily. Its colour is the usual dull and murky biege.

A murky biege wine