A really Good Friday

The better informed reader will know that yesterday was Good Friday for those of the Greek Orthodox Christian faith, to which I nominally belong. The various services that take place on the day, culminating in an evening 'funereal' procession called Epitaphios are, depending on your viewpoint, profoundly moving, picturesque, full of tradition or, even, less than necessary, but most of us have been taking part with varying degrees of commitment since we were little children.

The famous MT/YT team invited mutual friend MG and your dutiful scribe to their home for the evening, so that we could easily go to the nearby small church and follow proceedings full or otherwise, as desired, then have a simple bite to eat and a couple of glasses of wine to 'drown our sorrows', as it were. Whilst the religious ceremonies were less of a temptation for me, you have never knowingly seen me turn down an invitation to their home - the lure of first class eating and drinking, plus warm friendship, is one I have little motivation to resist.

Being Good Friday the bus schedules were even less obliging than normal so I was a bit late, hot and sweaty when I reached their place; MG, who lives not too far away and has a car, was already there and disapproving of, or at least surprised by, my tardiness. On my part, after wiping my brow I was ready for anything the home pair had prepared to throw at me.

We started with a most unusual wine from the French Savoie area, young and lively (full tasting notes etc. below) and some nibbles. There was choice both for those fasting and not (me!), as always quite delicious, as always relaxing. You can tell people who truly respect food when anything you eat at their instigation contains a certain degree of thought and care and is always real food, never something contrived or made to show off. Both MT and YT can cook to extremely high and elaborate standard if required, but their simple stuff is also amazingly tasty and thought out in, for me, the best possible way, to appeal to anyone attending and tasting. Believe me, a 'bad' dish here is better than most people manage for their 'best' dishes.

Food is all about enjoyment, sharing, bringing people together - it is NOT about just stuffing your face(even my greedy one!), though that may, on occasion, be a motive for other reasons; much in the same way, wine is for enhancing the taste experience and not just for getting drunk. To me there is no greater, more civilising activity than sitting around a table with people, breaking bread and having a glass of wine, discussing life in all its many aspects. Agreement is not necessary in everything, far from it, but good will is, making the feeling enjoyment complete. I have been extremely fortunate to have taken part in many such occasions and hope, truly, passionately hope, to be privileged enough to take part in many more before I pop my clogs.

So we decided to wander down to the little church, where a large crowd was waiting outside for the procession to begin in order to follow, lit candles at the ready, a palpable sadness in the atmosphere. People old and young, families and friends, were all gathered chatting and waiting, then falling behind the ceremonial heart of the procession as it came out of the church to wind its way along the local road before returning to the church to continue the liturgy. Luckily for me MT needed to return to the flat to get the food going so I could also escape, as by this time my back was giving me a bit of trouble and my religious fervour was all but exhausted.

By the time JT and MG returned, about half an hour later, nearly everything was ready: nibbles including homemade baked falafel, cheese bit, pitta chips that we had started on earlier, a starter of boiled tasty greens and then spaghetti with a yummy homemade tomato sauce (MT dissented and had a homemade pesto variant), which, as a non-faster, I generously plastered with grated cheese. This was proper food, glorious, comforting, nourishing food made with love and served with the generosity of spirit that characterises these friends. To finish there was a bought-in dark chocolate cake (courtesy of MG) and strawberries in alcohol and lemon juice, mmmm!

The first wine - both wines were red, by the way - is a product of rare passion, even in the wine world, in that it does not strive for universal acceptability and the 'bright lights'. Instead it is a passionate expression of a rare local grape (Mondeuse noire) in a style that may not appeal to all, but is individual and characterful. This is from an all but biodynamic, organic small estate called Domaine du Cellier des Cray, the owner/winemaker is Adrien Berlioz and this wine, Cuvee Marie-Clotilde 2017, is not a shrinking violet. A dark purple, almost black, colour leads to a big spicy nose, a heady mixture of sour cherry, prune and cough medicine, deep and strangely seductive, with a distinct sweet overtone. On the palate it is young, lightly earthy, tannic and dry but with a twinge of sweetness, ripe spice, long and complex. An unusual, alluring wine that improved with food and that I would like to see again with a bit of bottle age.

The second wine, from the Avantis Estate on the island of Evia (Euboea for classicists) was a 2010 single grape variety biggie. The grape variety, another relatively obscure one,  is called locally Mavrokoudoura but appears elsewhere as Mandilaria, giving a very dark, concentrated wine showing only hints of age. The nose, full of rich red fruit if slightly jammy, was seductive and complex. The palate was also bursting with red fruit (sour cherry?) flavours and ripe tannins, had hints of rhubarb in its slight bitterness, was vibrant and long showing no sign of age yet. An excellent bottle and, as yet 'undiscovered' so not fashionable; the price, therefore, appears to remain at reasonable levels for the quality and character there, though you may struggle to find anything but younger vintages - and this wine needs a bit of age to show at its best, as well as a bit of air before serving.

As if the wine wasn't pleasure enough, we finished with a small glass of ethereal grappa of Nebbiolo by the acknowledged master of the art, Romano Levi; unimaginably smooth for a grappa, discreet but complex, long and totally outstanding, a masterpiece of the distiller's art.

The conversation and the laughter flowed well past midnight.