Part 6 (1/2)

BOTH AT HOME and in restaurants, it is often only two people who share a bottle of wine. Now that so much wine has such high levels of alcohol (over 14 percent alcohol is very common for reds), two people sharing a standard bottle (750 ml in volume) could feel unpleasantly inebriated, as well as feeling guilty at exceeding the daily alcohol consumption recommended by doctors. An up-market British supermarket chain has launched a range of 500 ml bottles so that their customers (the middle-cla.s.s ones about whose drinking habits the British government is becoming concerned) are neither tempted to overindulge nor annoyed by the waste when they don't finish the bottle. and in restaurants, it is often only two people who share a bottle of wine. Now that so much wine has such high levels of alcohol (over 14 percent alcohol is very common for reds), two people sharing a standard bottle (750 ml in volume) could feel unpleasantly inebriated, as well as feeling guilty at exceeding the daily alcohol consumption recommended by doctors. An up-market British supermarket chain has launched a range of 500 ml bottles so that their customers (the middle-cla.s.s ones about whose drinking habits the British government is becoming concerned) are neither tempted to overindulge nor annoyed by the waste when they don't finish the bottle.

But if one does start with a standard 750 ml bottle and has wine left over, what should one do with it? The problem is that if you leave, say, 250 ml of wine in a 750 ml bottle, even if recorked or with the screw cap put back on, the oxygen in the air above the wine will still attack the alcohol quite rapidly and form acetic acid (the main const.i.tuent of vinegar after water) and ethyl acetate. The wine will not be terribly nice to drink.

The cla.s.sic answer is to use the leftover wine for making a sauce in cooking the next day. A red wine sauce for two boneless steaks might be made as follows. Put olive oil in the frying pan, cook chopped shallots in it till yellow, pour out the contents of the pan into a bowl through a metal strainer, put aside the strainer with the filtered-off shallot, and return the olive oil in the bowl to the pan. Now put in the steaks, which you have already seasoned on both sides with salt and pepper. Fry for five minutes on either side (for a one-inch steak). While you are doing this, boil the 250 ml of leftover red wine in a small pot until the alcohol has boiled off (as judged by pa.s.sing a flame over the pot)-the particularly nasty ethyl acetate has a lower boiling point than alcohol and will have boiled off as well. Put the cooked steaks on plates preheated in a 200F oven and gently pour away the olive oil. Add the still-hot wine to the pan and also the shallot from the strainer. Resume heating the pan and sc.r.a.pe off any meat residues from the pan with a wooden spoon. Reduce the volume and add b.u.t.ter according to taste. Take the plates with the steaks out of the oven and divide the red wine/shallot/b.u.t.ter sauce over them. Serve with vegetables and a freshly opened bottle of red wine. oven and gently pour away the olive oil. Add the still-hot wine to the pan and also the shallot from the strainer. Resume heating the pan and sc.r.a.pe off any meat residues from the pan with a wooden spoon. Reduce the volume and add b.u.t.ter according to taste. Take the plates with the steaks out of the oven and divide the red wine/shallot/b.u.t.ter sauce over them. Serve with vegetables and a freshly opened bottle of red wine.

But if the wine one has not consumed is really good, it would be a terrible waste not to keep it drinkable for the next day. The chemistry is simple in principle: it will go off more slowly the less ”head s.p.a.ce” there is above the wine; it will go bad more slowly the lower the temperature at which it is stored overnight; and it will go off more slowly if the head s.p.a.ce is not air at normal pressure but a blanketing inert gas or a partial vacuum provided by the air-pumping-out devices one can buy in the shops. You will preserve your wine reasonably well if you keep around some third (250 ml), half (375 ml), and two-thirds (500 ml) bottles, put your undrunk wine in the appropriately sized bottle, pump out the head s.p.a.ce, and keep the wine in the refrigerator overnight. You just need to remember to take it out of the refrigerator long enough before you drink it to get it up to the right temperature.

On the other hand, champagne and other sparkling wines keep very easily. Just put the bottle back in the refrigerator without bothering to stopper it. The slow evolution of carbon dioxide bubbles will keep the air away for a long time before the wine goes flat.

Ceremonial: should you turn your back on the loving cup?

SPARE A THOUGHT for King Edward the Martyr, slain in 978 at Corfe Castle in Dorset-some say by his own mother, Aelfryth-while raising his hands to drink. The drinking horns were heavy and took both hands to raise; the body was thus exposed and vulnerable to a knife blow. for King Edward the Martyr, slain in 978 at Corfe Castle in Dorset-some say by his own mother, Aelfryth-while raising his hands to drink. The drinking horns were heavy and took both hands to raise; the body was thus exposed and vulnerable to a knife blow.

And so (it is said) began the custom of the loving cup, still practiced by livery companies, the Inns of Court, many Oxford and Cambridge colleges, and similar inst.i.tutions. Inexplicable unless you know a little of its underlying purpose, the loving-cup ceremonial becomes clear if you think of Edward.

The two-handled cup, usually of silver or silver gilt, is filled with wine or a spiced wine often referred to as ”sack” (for a different interpretation) and pa.s.sed around the tables. Each person on receiving the cup bows to the one who handed it to him, on the right, and to their neighbor on the left. The one on the right remains standing; the one on the left rises and holds the cup cover in his right, or dagger, hand. Thus while the drinker is taking his wine, he is protected on the right, and watching the potential a.s.sailant on his left, who in any case is disarmed by the cover.

It sounds more complex than it is, but although it may now seem otiose, like all ceremonial it exists in commemoration of something that once was real. And like all ceremonial, too, there are constant arguments about whether the protector should stand facing away from the drinker or, literally, watch his back.

We would probably take the latter position, since it's the one adopted by the Wors.h.i.+pful Company of Armourers and Brasiers, who should really know all about such things if anyone does.

Wine, women, and what was the other one?

THERE IS A venerable rhetorical figure called the venerable rhetorical figure called the hendiatris hendiatris, consisting of three words joined together to express one idea. ”Lock, stock and barrel” comes to mind, as do ”s.e.x, drugs and rock 'n' roll,” ”liberty, equality, and fraternity,” and, indeed, ”blood, sweat and tears.”

But there can be few more appealing than ”wine, women, and song.” The three stand or fall together as an image of the good earthly life-at least, the good earthly life if you happen to like all three.

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Wine and women? A house of ill fame, perhaps. Wine and song? A drunken knees-up. Women and song? A gospel choir. But all three together: ah, there's lovely, as they say in Wales.

But who first said it? The usual answer is also the strangest. The couplet is generally given in German, as in the epigraph of John Addington Symonds's book of medieval German student songs, published in 1884: Wer liebt nicht Weib Wein und Gesangb Der bleibt ein Narr sein Lebenslang.

Literally, ”Who loves not wine women and song / Remains a fool his whole life long.”

And to whom does Symonds, without doubt or hesitation, attribute the couplet? Why, none other than Martin Luther, the great reformer and founder of the Lutheran Church.

It seems somehow improbable, and there are cracks around the attribution into which refres.h.i.+ng incredulity can creep. For a start, the phrase has equivalents in many languages and cultures: ”Sur, sura, sundari” in Sanskrit; ”Piker, vin, og sang” in Norwegian; in Polish ”Wino, kobiety, i spiew;” in Swedish ”Vin, kvinnor, och sng;” and in Czech, ”Vino, ueny a zpev.” It is hard to believe they all nicked the phrase from Luther, particularly the speakers of Sanskrit.

Yet Luther was no teetotaler, and the services of the church that bore his name produced some of the greatest and most joyful music of all time, including the ma.s.ses of Michael Praetorius and the music of J. S. Bach. Nor was he a celibate; indeed, he condemned celibacy, and wrote to a friend: I shall never take a wife, as I feel at present. Not that I am insensible to my flesh or s.e.x (for I am neither wood nor stone); but my mind is averse to wedlock because I daily expect the death of a heretic.

The heretic was, of course, himself. And in due course, he wrote, ”suddenly, and while I was occupied with far different thoughts the Lord has plunged me into marriage.” He was forty-two and his new wife, Katharina-a former nun whom he had arranged to smuggle out of the convent in a herring barrel-was twenty-six; by all accounts, theirs was a thoroughly happy marriage.

So it could could have been that Luther, knowing the triad already, merely turned it into a catchy verse. The great travel writer Patrick Leigh Fermor, in have been that Luther, knowing the triad already, merely turned it into a catchy verse. The great travel writer Patrick Leigh Fermor, in A Time of Gifts A Time of Gifts (which describes his walk from London to Constantinople in the 1930s), first enters Germany at a town called Goch, where, in an inn named At the Sign of the Black Eagle, he sees the verse painted ”right across the walls” in ”bold Gothic black-letter script.” Yet he sees it again, in the second of his trilogy, (which describes his walk from London to Constantinople in the 1930s), first enters Germany at a town called Goch, where, in an inn named At the Sign of the Black Eagle, he sees the verse painted ”right across the walls” in ”bold Gothic black-letter script.” Yet he sees it again, in the second of his trilogy, Between the Woods and the Water Between the Woods and the Water, this time in Romania. He remarks on this to the landlord, saying he'd seen it before in Goch; the landlord laughed and asked me if I knew who the poet was. ”No? It was Martin Luther.” I was rather surprised. Unlike the Lutheran Saxons, the Swabians were all Catholics.

It's possible, then, that the attribution was some sort of slur against Luther. Possible, too, is that the rhyme was simply around, in the air, and Luther seemed a good person to attribute it to, just as it is as impossible to remove the quote ”All that is necessary for evil to triumph is that the good do nothing” from its attribution to Edmund Burke as it is to find out where he said it.

The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations Oxford Dictionary of Quotations gives the attribution to Luther but acknowledges that there is ”no proof of authors.h.i.+p.” Its transatlantic rival, gives the attribution to Luther but acknowledges that there is ”no proof of authors.h.i.+p.” Its transatlantic rival, Bartlett's Familiar Quotations Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, offers the German poet Johann Heinrich Voss (17511826) as the most likely candidate. But in truth, it remains a mystery. Enough to say that we should all applaud the sentiment and raise a gla.s.s to the author-whoever he was.

What links wine and olives?

SOME DECADES AGO, an Oxford University history examination paper asked, ”Liberty never flourishes where the orange tree grows. Discuss.” The Mediterranean is where the orange, the olive, and the vine all flourish, and, at the time, Spain, Portugal, and Greece were all dictators.h.i.+ps. The Fascist dictators.h.i.+p in Italy was a relatively recent memory. (Fortunately, the question seemed to ignore California and Florida.) an Oxford University history examination paper asked, ”Liberty never flourishes where the orange tree grows. Discuss.” The Mediterranean is where the orange, the olive, and the vine all flourish, and, at the time, Spain, Portugal, and Greece were all dictators.h.i.+ps. The Fascist dictators.h.i.+p in Italy was a relatively recent memory. (Fortunately, the question seemed to ignore California and Florida.) But to the visitor to these countries, there is a magical relations.h.i.+p between the citrus fruits, the deep green olive trees, the wine, Homer's ”wine-dark sea,” and the smell in the Greek forests of the resin that flavors the national wine, retsina. The longevity of Mediterranean peoples is often attributed to their consumption of olive oil, red wine, and fish. Olive oil, like wine, is obtained by the pressing of a fruit, and like wine it comes in many grades and at many prices. It differs in not being fermented. In earlier times, olive oil and wine, being easily kept over the winter, provided people with a source of calories when other sources were relatively scarce.

The Romans used to float olive oil on top of wine as a way of preserving it. The olive oil would have slowed down the rate at which oxygen in the air attacked the wine. Indeed, the olive oil is evident in the oldest (fourth-century) gla.s.s wine bottle to have survived, now on display in Speyer, Germany. After a domestic experiment, we are pleased to confirm that it works.

How did wine affect American civil rights across 2,250 years?

WINE CAN HAVE a long reach-in this case, well over two thousand years. In 1917, the case of a long reach-in this case, well over two thousand years. In 1917, the case of Buchanan v. Warley Buchanan v. Warley reached the U.S. Supreme Court, which ruled unanimously that a Louisville, Kentucky, ordinance demanding racial segregation was un -const.i.tutional. Specifically, it was in breach of the Fourteenth Amendment, which required states to provide equal protection to all people-not just citizens-under their jurisdiction; in this case, the issue was the protection of the right to own and to dispose of property. It was one of the many landmark cases in the last century's dismantling of embedded racism, and the first to declare that this kind of ordinance was in breach of the const.i.tution. reached the U.S. Supreme Court, which ruled unanimously that a Louisville, Kentucky, ordinance demanding racial segregation was un -const.i.tutional. Specifically, it was in breach of the Fourteenth Amendment, which required states to provide equal protection to all people-not just citizens-under their jurisdiction; in this case, the issue was the protection of the right to own and to dispose of property. It was one of the many landmark cases in the last century's dismantling of embedded racism, and the first to declare that this kind of ordinance was in breach of the const.i.tution.

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Commentators on the case have recalled the words of Judge David Brewer. Writing in 1893, twenty-five years after the Fourteenth Amendment was ratified, Brewer argued that const.i.tutions represent the deliberate judgment of the people as to the provisions and restraints which, firmly and fully enforced, will secure to each citizen the greatest liberty and utmost protection. They are rules proscribed [sic] by Philip sober to control Philip drunk.

But who was Philip, and why drunk, and why sober?

The Philip in question was King Philip II of Macedon, the father of Alexander the Great. Philip, who reigned from 356 to 336 BC BC, was the final judge of appeal in Macedonia. He also acquired a fine military education while held hostage in Thebes as a child, and whether he learned it there or of his own accord, he was notoriously fond of wine. The story goes that one old woman appealed to him against a court judgment. Slurring somewhat, he rejected her appeal, at which point she shouted, ”I appeal.”

The king, slightly bemused, inquired precisely whom she was appealing to.

”I appeal,” she replied, ”from Philip drunk to Philip sober.”

The king agreed to reconsider her appeal at a later date, and her words pa.s.sed into history.

But not everywhere. It is, for example, technically impossible for a British member of Parliament to be drunk in the debating chamber since 1945, when the cry of ”Not sober!” was banned. Not that it affected Alan Clark, the notable wine bibber and serial adulterer who was told off by Clare Short, MP, for speaking in the chamber ”in this condition.” Clark's diaries reveal precisely what condition he was in and how he got there: ”A Palmer '61, then a '75 for comparison, before switching back to '61, a delicious Pichon Longueville.”

Philip drunk would have approved. Philip sober, however ...

Should wine be decanted?

IS DECANTING WINE a necessity, a ritual, or one-upmans.h.i.+p? Are you decanting to improve or to impress? Some wines, especially vintage port, have a lot of deposit. Serving guests directly from the bottle is unsatisfactory, because the wine inevitably gets agitated as it is taken around the table, with the result that the guests get altogether too much deposit in their gla.s.ses. The traditional solution to the problem is decanting. First of all, the bottle is stood up for some hours-ideally, at least twenty-four-to enable the sediment to drop gently to the bottom of the bottle; then a steady hand pours the wine gently but in a single go into another vessel (a fine antique decanter or a simple jug function equally well). A light beneath the neck-traditionally a candle-shows when the deposit is about to pa.s.s over from the bottle, and the decanting is stopped. (This raises the question of what to do with what is left in the bottle. Pa.s.sing it through a filter paper such as is used for coffee making seems to be fine, although it is preferable to use the unbleached brown-colored ones.) a necessity, a ritual, or one-upmans.h.i.+p? Are you decanting to improve or to impress? Some wines, especially vintage port, have a lot of deposit. Serving guests directly from the bottle is unsatisfactory, because the wine inevitably gets agitated as it is taken around the table, with the result that the guests get altogether too much deposit in their gla.s.ses. The traditional solution to the problem is decanting. First of all, the bottle is stood up for some hours-ideally, at least twenty-four-to enable the sediment to drop gently to the bottom of the bottle; then a steady hand pours the wine gently but in a single go into another vessel (a fine antique decanter or a simple jug function equally well). A light beneath the neck-traditionally a candle-shows when the deposit is about to pa.s.s over from the bottle, and the decanting is stopped. (This raises the question of what to do with what is left in the bottle. Pa.s.sing it through a filter paper such as is used for coffee making seems to be fine, although it is preferable to use the unbleached brown-colored ones.) So far, so uncontentious. The controversial question is whether decanting benefits those wines that lack a significant deposit. Decanting wine aerates it in the pouring and then leaves a large surface area of it exposed to the air. The longer the wine is subsequently left in the decanter before drinking, the more it will be exposed to the oxygen in the air-but will this be for good or ill? It is indisputable that the oxygen in the air attacks the alcohol in the wine from the moment the bottle is opened-this is why one pumps the air out of partly consumed bottles of wine so as to try to preserve them for pleasurable drinking the following day. Therefore, argued the renowned professor emile Peynaud of the Inst.i.tut d'Oenologie at the University of Bordeaux, the aeration of a sound wine through decanting is indefensible. (He acknowledged that some faulty, nasty-tasting wines might improve with aeration.) The majority in the Bordeaux wine trade do not agree with their late local expert-decanting of wine before drinking is generally favored, even for up to four hours. Hugh Johnson recommends aeration of almost all red wines and the majority of whites. David Bird, though like Peynaud a scientist, sides with Johnson, at least for younger wines.

A recent blind tasting comparing decanted and undecanted fine Bordeaux wines did not resolve the dispute. It suggested that while some are improved by seventy-five minutes in the decanter, others are made worse, but that only trial and error could determine which way a particular wine inclined. This scarcely amounts to useful guidance: after decanting, it's too late.

But why would anyone want a swizzle stick?

THE TERM swizzle stick swizzle stick is generally used now to refer to a little plastic paddle used to stir your take-out coffee. But go to an antiques dealer and that is not what you'll be offered. Instead, if they have any, you will be presented with an odd little cylinder, of silver or gold, out of which you can propel something that looks like a tiny c.o.c.ktail umbrella without a covering. Half a dozen silver (or gold) wires will spring free like umbrella ribs, and there you go. is generally used now to refer to a little plastic paddle used to stir your take-out coffee. But go to an antiques dealer and that is not what you'll be offered. Instead, if they have any, you will be presented with an odd little cylinder, of silver or gold, out of which you can propel something that looks like a tiny c.o.c.ktail umbrella without a covering. Half a dozen silver (or gold) wires will spring free like umbrella ribs, and there you go.

But where do you go? And why? And why ”swizzle”?