Read this post on Elitistreview - Monsters Monsters Attack!!!!

As I have a extremely well-developed sense of fun and good-humour, when I see a label like this I am delighted and amused. I know anything a bit silly would be a major turn off for the more miserable type of wine lover, but bugger them! The stuff is all about good times so why not have a label that makes you smile?

I was also drawn to it because I had heard of the wine and knew it to be one of the more well-thought-of of the new-wave, light, off-dry Rieslings coming out of Australia. The great Mac Forbes is perhaps leading this trend, but others follow and, whilst they might not make quite such scintillating entities as he does, good stuff is being made. Look out for those Australian Rieslings at 11% alcohol or less, they’re often a treat and usually a bargain.

Monsters Monsters Attack! 2011, Some Young Punks

An intensely focussed and direct nose of sharp lime fruit. It’s really pure and nervy. There is some minerality there too; if I were smelling this blind I might place it as coming from a good vineyard in the Saar. It has just enough complexity to keep your higher faculties frothing, but the livid nervy energy it shows in terms of fruit is extravagantly exciting. AAAAAAARGH! THE PAIN! Yes, it is ludicrously acidic but you’ve probably gathered by now I like that, even though it makes me wince when it scalds and sears my stomach. Yeah, that’s electric nipple clamps acid action! The fruit is really pure and focussed as well, as is the minerality that it does show. There is the merest hint of residual sugar, and that keeps the harmony spot on. This is merits mega mams mirth levels. Not the finest wine in the world but, by arse, it’s a fun drink that assaults you into knowing you’re having a good time.

The back label is fun too.

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Read this post on Elitistreview - Hawksmoor, wine and writers

The Editor and I travelled into The Big Smoke to meet Swedish wine writer Erica Landin in Hawksmoor Spitalfields earlier today. She seemed impressed by our capacity to eat, the general pricing policies of London and the specific pricing policy of Hawksmoor. Fair enough.

Erica’s experience of wine journalism in Sweden is somewhat different to that of mine in the UK and Europe. It seems less involved in getting riotously drunk and telling scandalously ribald anecdotes ‘off the record’ for a start. She seemed moderately impressed that we got through two bottles and a couple of cocktails for lunch; I’m told by the Editor that Swedes have unhealthy attitudes to drinking at lunchtime. Anyway, let’s have a quick look at the food.

Any reservations about the quality of the plum-pudding pig ribs I might have had on my last visit were utterly erased this time. They were absolutely cracking. The combination of melting soft meat and fat along with a richly spiced sauce is quite the winner and, like me, you should go for them every time.

Erica seemed a bit daunted by the towering nature of her burger, but said she liked it even if it did ultimately require utensils to get it into manageable-sized units. I would have been impressed by her asking if she could have both triple-cooked chips and a salad with her burger, but wasn’t because not many salads are worth getting impressed about. Salads are just so unhealthy – JUST SAY NO!

Editor Dani ordered a medium-rare ribeye, double fried eggs, roast bone marrow, macaroni and cheese and stilton hollandaise. So did I. Everything was at the ‘jester’s shoes’ end of the pleasure-spectrum. One forgets quite how good their steaks are, the bone marrow is brillo and served with style, their macaroni and cheese recipe is perfect and, though I don’t think quality meat needs much sauce, I like the hollandaise to add to the M&C for enhanced richness.

The only slight disappointment was the eggs. I know here in Hampshire we have been spoiled with amazing King’s Somborne eggs, but these really do seem to be lacking much in the way of flavour. When you shovel a big lump of animal flesh with a whole yolk on top into your mouth you want there to be serious yolk action coating your meat-filled hole; these did not deliver. More work needed on sourcing top quality ova, I think.

The cocktails were faultlessly perfect and I really felt in the mood to be witty, charming and able to listen to a new friend after knocking back my Fancy Gin Cocktail. This remains the single best martini I have ever consumed on multiple occasions. Sure, you can almost have stronger martinis, possibly, but drinking isn’t a meat-measuring exercise. These FGC’s remain quite heroic and definitely enabling/disabling enough without sacrificing anything in terms of being really nice drinks. Dani had something else, but I missed it because I was busy with my drink and being probed by Erica.

The wines:

Cote-Rote ‘Les Grades Places’ 2004, Domaine Clusel-Roch

Clusel-Roch remain my favourite Cote-Rotie producer and one sniff of this demonstrated why that is so. No silliness with high alcohol here: this clocked in at 12%. No silliness with new oak either; nary a hint of it on the nose which was all about beautifully elegant and refined fruit, which a sophisticated earthy hint and real energy and life. This showed a lot of life and was not showing any signs of falling apart having been from a weaker vintage. A supremely engaging and attractive nose of minimalism and restraint; all about beauty and understated pleasure. I was a bit surprised that when we first opened it the palate seemed a touch tough, but a shake in the decanter and a swirl in the glass sorted that out. It then showed silky, polished tannins, a fine acidity that made it sparkle with life and refined but really deep and complex fruit. The depth of flavour, despite the small-scale of the palate, was amazing – the old vines character really shining through. It was very long, extremely sophisticated and highly pleasurable. The most enjoyable Cote-Rotie I’ve had since the last bottle of this.

Nuits-Saint-Georges Premier Cru la Richemone 2005, Domaine Alain Michelot

This was one of the most reduced red wines I have smelled in years. When it was first popped it honked of Hydrogen Sulphide and I was going to say we shouldn’t drink it. But I risked shaking it and vigorously decanting and it opened a little. But just a little, alas. It remained stinky and reductive, not much fun as far as fruit went at all. Strangely, the texture on the palate was quite nice, silky and reasonably seductive, but I couldn’t get over that nasty reductive character and surreptitiously ordered myself an extra cocktail as I went to ‘strain the vegetables’. I tell you, those Fancy Gin Cocktails would be all you need in the cocktail department if it were not for the rest of Hawksmoor’s brilliant list.

I’ve had a cold for the past week and this little jaunt into London was not only surprisingly manageable, both in terms of viral infection and London-related harassment, but quite a lot of fun as well. OK, I was let down by the Nuits, but the Cote-Rotie was wizard. Hawksmoor always deliver the goods and it was a real delight to meet Erica. I bet we got her more quaquaversal than the chap she was meeting next could manage.

Here’s Hawksmoor’s website

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Read this post on Elitistreview - The Cheese Stall, Winchester

You’ve probably gathered by now that Winchester is an oasis of corking comestibles. I’ve written already about the local cheese on offer, and very good that is too. Sometimes, you need other cheeses, and this is where the brilliant Cheese Stall delivers the goods in fine style.

They sell continental cheeses of the very highest quality and are a truly brilliant resource to have just a few minutes’ walk down the road. The only problem is when buying a decent amount of cheese to last us a few days it’s dashed heavy carrying them back up the hill to get home.

Which brings me to my misanthropic rant that I’d like to get out the way first – I have covered this ground before. When we were queuing to buy our cheese the lady in front of us tried a number of cheeses then purchased 75g of a single cheese. If you like cheese that little what is the point in wasting everyone’s time going to a cheese shop? I could eat 75g of cheese and hardly notice it; it’s a laughably small amount. Cheese is great, buy enough to satisfy your urges! Our cheese purchases last visit totalled a little over 1.5kg.

Now, The Cheese Stall: I have yet to be disappointed by a single cheese we have purchased from them. Their Emmental de Savoie is one of the most amazing cheeses I have ever eaten. It is so characterful and powerfully flavoured that there is almost a slight suggestion of it hurting your mouth a hint as you nosh on a large lump. We got 650g of the stuff last time. It is amazing cheese and I think they now buy in extra just to satisfy my urges.

This pales in comparison to their stunningly creamy, richly powerful Comté. A magisterial cheese that leads the pack when it comes to this brilliant style of cheese. They’ve got Beaufort too, but I’ve only had a taste rather than the several hundred grams required to accurately judge it as magnificently as that taste made me think it is.

Editor Dani rather likes Morbier for some unaccountable reason, and insisted we got some last week. I may have found the texture as unattractive as I usually do, but blow me if this one didn’t taste pretty good. I was gobsmacked.

As far as soft cheeses go the Delice de Bourgogne and Pierre Robert play the butter/rancid balance perfectly, these triple cream cheeses being sold at a perfect stage of maturity. If you like your hedonism a tiny shade less hedonistic then the Vignotte is a complete joy of fat and fungus.

Their Roquefort is easily strong enough to give you really lurid dreams, but not aggressively difficult to eat. Much the same goes for their Gorgonzola which tickles my fancy no end with its piquant creaminess.

You get the idea, there is quality cheese here for everyone, even people who like cheese so little they buy only 75g of the stuff.

But there’s more! They have a selection of dried sausages which are just the kind of thing you want to be chomping on before moving onto your mid-afternoon snack. Our favourite is the Chorizo Fort, which is quite dry, with plenty of fatty flavour and a good paprika kick. These do not last long in Elitistreview Towers’ fridge.

The Cheese Stall moves around the various markets of Hampshire, here’s where you can find them:
Tuesday – Alton, High Street
Wednesday – Winchester, High Street
Friday and Saturday – Romsey, The Square and Winchester High Street

Find them you most definitely want to; they put most London cheesemongers to shame. Do buy more than 75g, though, otherwise you just won’t be getting the best out of them.

You can email them here to see if they have something you crave.

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Read this post on Elitistreview - I’m the BBC’s favourite antipsychotic user!

The BBC News website have picked me out as their favourite antipsychotic user. It is not a very happy story, alas, but sadly it is all true. After waking up with bad dreams, which just happened to be about the first time I was sectioned when I lost my marbles, I dropped by the BBC News website on my phone – I think this might be it for the night’s sleep…

There is good news, and I’m pleased they included that I find antipsychotics worth taking. Thanks to medication, some talking therapies and the support of family and friends I am a lot happier now. OK, I had a slip when I tried to kill myself on Christmas day 2010, but I’m no longer a regular guest in the loony bin. Recent medication I’ve been put on has really helped with my sleep and general anxiety levels, and I’m trying something that could help with my side effects. The medical care here in Winchester is incomparably better than the awful treatment I got in Woolwich. And the BBC included a picture of me looking dashing!

There are undoubtedly a lot of problems with antipsychotic medication. A lot have simply done nothing for me and, as I said in the piece, being un-medicated is intolerable. The drug that did me the most good, Clozapine (which, due to its rare side effects, is the last resort antipsychotic given when not much else helps), dealt with most of my symptoms but after about six weeks damaged my heart and gave me incredible chest pains. It was terrible – the drug had helped me so much and suddenly it was killing me and I had to stop. If I may crack an awful joke, I was heartbroken.

Abilify made me wildly energetic but also stopped me from sleeping entirely. After a couple of weeks I was incoherent with mania, tried to kill myself and ended up in the bin again. Amisulphride also made me incredibly anxious and I refused to leave the house until the men in the white van came calling.

Pretty much everything has made me drool, twitch and have muscle pains and stiffness. Some of this might be dealt with by the new drug I’m on but for some people these effects can continue even after they’ve stopped antipsychotics entirely. I haven’t been able to ‘raise the flagpole’ in years, which may be something to do with why this site is so completely obsessed with sex.

Despite all that, if you have a psychotic illness, as I do, the medication is definitely worth taking. Life is too horrible without it. Not everyone has to take it for long, and certainly not everyone is as sensitive as me when it comes to getting side effects. It may take a couple of attempts to find the drug that works for you, but antipsychotics can be a life-saver and help you deal with the unparalleled awfulness of mental illness.

Don’t let the horror stories put you off: take the medication – it’ll keep you alive and happier.

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Read this post on Elitistreview - The Bengal Sage – not an English restaurant

All my life I’ve hated Indian food. This probably has something to do with my sadistic and violent step-father devouring the stuff almost ceaselessly; I had to hate everything loved by the person who abused me so horribly. A trip to The Bengal Sage demonstrated that not only that I’m not scared of that loathsome shit anymore, but also that Indian food can transcend the tired and dreary rubbish pumped out by most English restaurants.

You’ll note I say ‘English restaurants’ rather than ‘Indian restaurants in England’. This is because the food at the Bengal Sage sits two meta-levels above Indian restaurants in England. The food is more inventive and interesting than that at Indian restaurants and far more skilfully prepared from vastly higher quality ingredients than at most restaurants of any type in England.

Miff, of Bangkok Brasserie fame, had been pushing us to visit his sister restaurant for a while but it was not until we walked past the Bengal Sage and looked at the menu we realised his magic touch had been expertly applied to Indian food as well as Thai.

The menu was completely unrecognisable from most Indian restaurants my fellow Oxford scientists dragged me to when they wanted a ‘cuzza’ after Lab Drinks. It was not a list of every possible permutation of seven different ways of preparing five different meats, but rather a selection of ingredient-focused dishes that sounded as if they had been designed by someone who enjoyed cooking rather than just doing it for a job. The menu was attractive reading – I didn’t have flashbacks of getting beaten up as a child as I read it.

When we booked we asked to have whatever the chef recommended and this is what I would recommend you do. The embarrassment of riches on the menu makes it hard to choose so why not go for what they feel they do best. As ever, Miff was generous with the amount served; I’ll tell you some of the highlights.

The starter that really blew my socks off was a little-known Punjabi speciality: Malai chicken tikka. No, not that those chicken tikkas. This chicken was tender and deeply flavourful, delicately spiced and coated with little pieces of fresh herbs that had a delightfully crunchy texture as you bit into the chicken. The fresh, high-quality characters of the ingredients really stood out.

The potato parcels, Aloo tikki, were amazing in that they had a flavour that was vaguely reminiscent of the generic ‘Indian’ flavour one encounters in limp supermarket samosas and the like, but this variant of the flavour was salivatingly good. The flavours were fresh and lively, charged with complexity and real interest. It opened my mind to be reminded of the lacklustre flavour of ubiquity and then be shown that it could be done with skill and style. Lovely.

Our other three starters were also excellent and I felt we had already done better than I could have hoped for.

Three main courses shone out as coruscating entities that one should seek out. A Broughton water buffalo bhoona was packed with delicious water buffalo meat of the most melting texture. The meat was of the very highest quality and, like all the dishes, the sauce it had been cooked it was fresh and lively – a vigorous and exciting dish to eat.

The Sage goat was goat cooked in a blend of Indian and English spices. Again the freshness of the flavours really kept me captivated; no rotten vegetables and rancid oil here. Again the meat was tender and cooked with extreme skill to show at its very best. As such, this was the best goat I’ve ever eaten – makes me question my absolute dismissal of the animal as being unworthy of cooking.

A Thai influence showed in the chicken anjali. Vibrant lemongrass flavours packed this energetic dish and made it throb with life. Miff takes great care in sourcing his ingredients and the chicken was a world away from the dry, flavourless broiler fowl that most restaurants contemptibly serve to guests they clearly don’t care a fig for. These last two dishes showed that intelligent experimentation is possible with Indian food and, if you care, it’ll work a treat.

The food was a marvel. They’ve got a reasonably priced wine list and, whilst I would normally say ‘Don’t', the food was so subtle, sophisticated and fresh wine might just work. Skip the Indian wine, though, unless you want to vex some insufferable wine bore by giving it to them blind and telling them to identify it. We had beer and that was great.

As one who never wanted to step in an Indian restaurant it is a bit of a surprise to find myself recommending one so whole-heartedly, but I most certainly wish to point you in the direction of the Bengal Sage. As I have shown, even if the thought of Indian food turns your stomach (or makes you curl up into a ball so you are a smaller target) you are going to have a great time here. It’s better than an English Indian restaurant, and it’s better than most restaurants in England: it’s the Bengal Sage and Miff will pleasure you immensely there.

Here is The Bengal Sage’s website

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