A Friday night bottle. It being Bonfire Night, we spent our evening indoors reassuring the cat that all these loud bangs and fizzes did not mean that she was required to poo on the landing carpet (which is what happened last year). Instead I opened this bottle of Rhubarb, Mint & Elderflower and cooked Tuna Surprise. The wine is a decent white, with elderflower being dominant.
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| A Google lion in our kitchen |
NB For the next several entries, I am going to dispense with Date Order, and post them in the order in which they appear in my written diary. This means such narrative that there is (which is very little!) will be somewhat disrupted.
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I saved this final bottle of Dandelion Wine for a special occasion where I could share it with guests, on the basis that with 8 years aging it was likely to be spectacular. Bob, Judith and Susanna were here - only the second time that we have had guests to stay since Covid 19 hit. The wine, however, only served to disappoint. Yes, it was drinkable and had an element of sherry to it. But it was not the rich delicious nectar-like substance that I had anticipated. If anything, it was slightly rank.
No-one had a second glass, even though they stayed another two days. I drank it over the course of the week. The final glass was brown and murky.
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| Wiggy on 25 September, claiming her space |
I have yet to let on to Claire that this bottle came from the Rhubarb Wine vintage that she claims is nasty. She drank it without complaint. It was a Wednesday evening bottle in a week that has been the most sociable for a very, very long time. We had Pat's 80th on Saturday, an impromptu meal at Mary's on Sunday and wind quintets in Harrogate on Monday, with trios to follow on Thursday and Book Group (albeit that one by Zoom) on Friday. That is pre-lockdown levels of sociability and then some. So of course a quiet night in on Wednesday became a whole bottle night.
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| Wiggy and I had a disagreement about the chair |
I am a fool. Last bottle of Blackberry 2020, I was smugly pleased about noticing the corking inching towards explosion. Any sensible winemaker would then put all bottles of the same vintage upright, thus minimising the chance of detonation and mess. Not me. Hence, on Wednesday morning I discovered our dining room floor covered in sticky red liquid. I briefly wondered what Wiggy had slaughtered before realising what it was. There was one large glass left in the bottle which Claire and I shared that evening. This would have been an excellent wine.
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| Our food that evening - Involtini (delicious) |
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| Wiggy sitting on my work (on 5th May rather than 6th) |
Sunday was a day full of domestic chores. The best of these was making Blondies with Peanut butter-cream icing (calorie content: astronomical) but there was also much sweeping and tidying. Not that there is anyone allowed to visit until 17th May, but sometimes I get fed up of living in grime.
In the evening I opened this bottle of blackcurrant wine - which was as tasty a bottle as blackcurrant can be - and we had a beef & spring onion stir-fry courtesy of Padian Foods. Blisteringly hot as ever - which is not a bad thing. Then Line of Duty and a sleep interrupted by two mice gifted by Wiggy.
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| Blondies - they were fabulous! |
This was such a good bottle of blackcurrant wine - sharp and fruity with a taste of summer. We drank much of it whilst watching Snakes on a Plane as a Snarkalong Film Club choice. The movie was predictably entirely ridiculous (and ridiculously entirely predictable). That is not to say that I didn't enjoy it however. About two thirds of the way through, Wiggy entered the room with a large and feisty mouse. She promptly dropped it and 20 hours later, it has yet to be found.
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| Wiggy - a couple of hours before the Mouse |
I dug out a bottle of Orange 2016 for Saturday night, but on one sip that was rejected and Claire requested something nice. Blackberry wine satisfied that job description and helped round off a gentle yet enjoyable Saturday. I turned the remaining bit of the Sicilian Lemon & Orange Cake into a fabulous bread & butter pudding and our Snarkalong Film Club was Galaxy Quest. This was charming and funny and sweet natured, and it appealed to the barely-hidden science-fiction geek within.
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| Wiggy, looking as if butter wouldn't melt |
Reading about previous bottles of this vintage, and on the strength of this bottle, I am surprised that I waxed lyrical about 2017's blackcurrant wine. This particular bottle has acquired that sherry taste that old bottles of home made wine can get. For some flavours this is a bonus. Blackcurrant is not one of those flavours. We still drank it though - grumbling as we went.
Friday was my final day of a week's holiday and it hasn't been the best - what with Kato dying and all. Still, I managed a pleasant walk from Otley and along the Chevin and it was not a bad day.
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| Views over Wharfedale from the Chevin |
We drank the majority of this bottle with a Chinese Takeaway from G-Wu, and very fine Chinese food it was too. A chilled orange wine feels like the right one to have in these circumstances. The day itself was not my best day of holiday ever. In the morning we buried Kato (grave digging, even for a cat, is hard work) and in the afternoon I went for a rubbish walk round semi-industrial areas of Batley.
Thursday was better: it was the 25th anniversary of Claire and my first kiss, and we celebrated by walking the Malham Round. You can't beat a good bit of limestone pavement.
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| A good bit of limestone pavement |
Kato died today. Earlier in the afternoon he let out two howls and I found him lying awkwardly in the dining room. Then, in the evening immediately before Bake Off, he raised his head to the sky, gave a long low cry and died.
Kato was just a fabulous cat - probably my favourite ever - and I mourn his passing. We have only shared his life for three years - less - but I would not have been without him. I wish, though, that we had had more time. And now there is a Kato-shaped hole in our house.
This bottle was already open when Kato died and we finished it between us without tasting any of it.
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| Me and Kato - not great of either of us! |
Claire and I have known each other 25 years. A quarter of a century ago I met her on the way to Newcastle Concert Band. I can barely remember a time before Claire. To celebrate, I bought a vacuum cleaner, which Claire is using as I write. Our previous one broke in March and we have been living in a fog of cat hair ever since. I also opened a bottle of blackberry wine and cooked Toad in the Hole. Both were exactly what was needed on a dark October day.
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| Self portrait in blue - taken on 3rd October |
Since Lockdown started, I have been working from home. Whilst I thought that I would hate this, it is something that has definite advantages. I miss the camaraderie of office life, but there is a certain freedom in being alone at home with the cats and my own kitchen. To stay fit, I have taken a long walk every morning before work, and on Thursday morning, 20th August, this took me along Broomhill Drive.
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| Our damson tree - not enough damsons |
I noticed several damsons on the pavement and grass verge of this particular street. Many were looking unblemished, so not having a bag with me, I filled my pockets. It is unfortunate that both pockets have holes, so I had to walk the remaining kilometre holding onto my trousers, occasionally feeling a damson roll down my leg. When I regaled Claire with this story that evening, she mentioned that there was a damson tree in Potternewton Park. Friday morning's walk was decided upon.
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| My disappointing first view of the damson tree |
My first sight of the damson tree was disappointing: the fruit was impossibly out-of-reach. But then I looked at the ground: surrounding me were damsons with their blue-purple dusty covering, looking like eggs from an exotic, flightless bird. This time I had a bag and picked up the fruit that was still intact.
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| Like eggs on the ground |
At home I weighed my haul - with those from Broomhill Drive, I had 5 lbs 9 oz, and I only needed 4 lbs of these for a batch of wine. I put the damsons in a bowl, freezing what was surplus, and covered them in water for 10 hours.
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| Damsons in my bucket |
In the evening I mashed the damsons - they are surprisingly yellow inside - covered them in 2 lbs 12 oz sugar and poured over 6½ pints of water. (It turns out that 6 pints would have done.)
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| Surprisingly yellow |
On Saturday morning I added a teaspoon each of yeast, nutrient and pectolase and, in the evening when I read about what I had done in 2018, I added a teaspoon of citric acid. Over the next few days I gave my bucket of liquid a stir, and then put the wine into its demijohn on Wednesday night, 26th August, sieving out the solids. This process (including the sterilising time) took not quite the whole of Mozart's Clarinet Concerto, which was playing on Radio 3 whilst I did this.
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| Fermenting in my bucket |
The wine is lighter than I remember from two years ago, but still a splendid red.
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| A splendid colour |
At Claire's suggestion, we carried out an experiment with this bottle of wine. Was it possible for us to open it and yet not drink the whole lot? Recently it has been rare indeed for wine to stay overnight, only half drunk. The experiment was a success, though we did not push our luck and try for a three-day bottle.
On Wednesday evening the weather was so lovely that we ate (and drank) outdoors, watching frogs in the pond and enjoying the last of the day's warmth. It is how summer evenings should be spent.
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| Eating outside on 24 June (with Kato) |
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Taken on 21 July Kato explaining how life could be better |
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| The wine and Kato |
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| The Actual Dead Rat |
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| My lucky musical socks (plus Wiggy) |
