We are sailing, we are sailing...

Well, I suppose it's still called sailing even when there isn't a sail in sight, isn't it? I hope so, otherwise my title will be horribly misplaced and I will look silly, which I would not appreciate.

Lucky reader, you are the first to hear the news that I have just spent four days sailing the coast of Cornwall courtesy of my wonderful friends C & B; you have come across them on several other occasions, when they have kindly invited me to spend time with them. This time it was a sort of birthday present, as I recently celebrated another one, and they felt that I was in need of a bit of TLC from good friends - did you know that I have been friends with them for nearly 37 years? They have been unstinting in their support during this testing for me period and I just hope that they realise just how much I appreciate their kindness.

To cut a long story short, they are in possession of a boat, a motor cruiser, which is unique as it was the product of a now abandoned business project of theirs, and so is entirely designed either by them or to their specification by their appointed designer. The EcoCruiser 37, as is it's title, is an intriguing-looking craft with sleek lines, an aggressive front and a rather boxy rear end; it is designed for efficiency, economy and comfort and seems, to this nautical ignoramus anyway, to deliver on all fronts. It lives in a marina in Cornwall and roams the seas around there, depending on how much time its owners have available, which is often very little. Luckily for me there was time to spare this last weekend and lots of beautiful places to see within a couple of hours of EcoCruiser's home berth.

We arrived at the boat after a rather long drive early on Thursday evening, unloaded the car and packed a trolley high with our stuff to wheel to our temporary home. Once there we opened it up and loaded the rather magnificent craft with the provisions, together with our clothing and equipment, tidied and organised everything on board, then set off for a bite to eat in a local hostelry. Alas our fish & chips was not up to the usual standard of the well-known local place, with the fish heavily battered but almost disappearing, a melting, overcooked, relatively tasteless affair - a pity as my friends tell me the place has been excellent in the past! Oh well, I suppose we all have bad days...
 The following morning we went to look at a property locally that my friends thought might be interesting, then walked around the coast to a yacht club in the next bay along for a simple lunch of salad (for me) and crab sandwiches for them - good, fresh, tasty stuff - then walked back. EC was waiting patiently and we managed to set off for our first adventure, quietly sailing off to find our mooring in Helford River.

We had a lovely run to our mooring and after a glass of wine set off for the Yacht Club and our dinner, which was simply and tasty, especially my wild garlic sausages; C&B's duck breasts also looked and tasted the part but we had to take our desert away and run, as low tide might have stranded us ashore. Which is perhaps where we should have stayed, as we were woken just before seven in the morning with the boat rolling furiously, bits slamming around and a bit of an uncomfortable situation. But we still managed to have a light breakfast and rush off to shore for a walk to Glendurgan Garden, a breath-taking example of application and eccentricity in a beautiful setting, just magnificent and rightly in the care on the National Trust. We loved our walk, loved the garden, loved the area, then retreated to our boat to prepare and set off to our next destination.

St. Mawes is a very pretty village across the bay from Falmouth, billed as a fishing village but really a swanky holiday destination, attracting salubrious visitors from all corners of the UK, including the Royal Family. Our time moored there was less bouncy-bouncy than Helford River and, as low tide was less of a problem, we had a more relaxed dinner at the informal part of the St. Mawes Hotel where the vibe was good but the cooking unfortunately a bit patchy. Still, we had a good time, were lucky with the weather and motored back to our boat on the little tender without mishaps, and had a good night with thunder, lightning and rain but no rocking and rolling.

On the Sunday we had a really lovely day, as friends of my friends descended on us and spent a few hours on board, hours of sharing not only interesting conversation but food and drink also. To say a good time was had by all is an understatement, as once again the weather was kind to us, even to the extent that I had my first swim ever (brief and cold, thank you for asking!) in the UK. We also soaked up the sun (yes, in England...), feasted on the beauty of the setting and stayed there until early evening, before setting off back to our berth in Falmouth for Sunday night.

Bank Holiday Monday meant going home and, of course, the weather in Falmouth was perfect: the sea calm, the sun shining and only a light breeze. But plans are plans, we had to be elsewhere and the road beckoned, waiting to take us away from EcoCruiser and all it had to offer. So we went - what else could we do?

P.S.: My cabin looks small and cramped, but my bunk was extremely comfortable and I slept very-very well away from all my problems.

Up on the roof, again...

Last year sometime I advised you, dear reader, to hotfoot it to one of London's hidden gems high above the hurly-burly of Edgware Road and environs, the fabulous Rooftop Kitchen at Alfie's Antiques Market, London W2. Perhaps you've already been there and enjoyed it at least as much as I do, but, for the odd one who hasn't, this is a reminder.

The Rooftop Kitchen is a London oddity, eccentric, simple and very, very good. Not a place for flash Harry and his Henrietta, not the place to people-watch the moneyed elite, not a place to show off your  new Gucci (or whatever...) ensemble; there are lots of other places in London for that sort of nonsense. With a simple menu, a tiny but decent selection of wines and an excellent ice-cold beer on tap this is THE place to go on a warm spring or summer day for lunch, or coffee and cake, and to escape city life, noise and pressure, however briefly.

Alfie's is worth the visit for the Rooftop Kitchen alone, but don't underestimate the various little antiques businesses there. Despite being without a permanent home and broke I see lots of interesting things there, though my untrained eye cannot vouch for these in the same way as for wine and food; I defy anyone, though, to walk around and be entirely disinterested...

So you can understand why when my friend Richard suggested we meet at Alfie's for a catch-up and light lunch I didn't exactly hesitate - a feast for the eyes, decent grub and drink for my stomach, how could a boy say no, at least this one?! So on a bright, busy day last week we met 'up on the roof' at the Rooftop Kitchen. As I was slightly early and he slightly late, I was able to put away a lovely cold pint of Italian plasma (beer, lager actually) before we even ordered our food, with a second one all but inevitable. They do a lovely juicy burger here, tasty and properly cooked, with the added benefit of a reasonable price, so we both went for that and enjoyed it greatly, together with our beer and the amazing luxury of peace and quiet above London's noisy streets. We had an extensive catch-up, relaxed and were even able to make plans for future fixture, possibly elsewhere, for which you may be informed - assuming, that is, that you are suitably well-behaved in the meantime.

For the non-designer non-corporate eccentricity of the surroundings alone the Rooftop Kitchen is worth a visit, throw in the food and drink and you have a rare London spot, a privilege. I wish I could go there regularly, every week even, and eat, drink and relax in the sun. Perhaps you, dear reader, will invite me sometime soon? OK, forget me, get some company and go to Alfie's Rooftop Kitchen to enjoy a real one-off; you'll thank me!

And no, since you asked, I am not rewarded in any way for anything I write, so I can say what I like when I feel like it; I don't have to be nice to anyone, nor praise anyone or anything if I do not believe in their merit.

Driven to Drink

Many years ago, when I first started getting involved professionally in the wine trade, my maternal grandmother warned me that my family on my father's side had a certain proclivity to drink (to put it mildly), that I should beware and approach wine with caution. She, being a non-drinker and very correct in her behaviour, strictly disapproved of the drinking habits of my paternal grandfather and his brother, who were well-known revelers-about-town.

She need not have worried. Much as I love wine and all it brings to life - indeed, I could not imagine my life without it - I have never become reliant on it for support and it remains a source of curiosity and boundless pleasure. My meals are always enhanced by the right wines, my tastebuds are stimulated and my critical faculties strive to understand, analyse and appreciate what I have in my glass; it is never about the alcohol. So, it is with great pleasure that I can present to you, my reader, a few little things that I had the pleasure and honour to try recently.

My good friend M. decided to treat me to lunch (to celebrate the promotion of one of her sons) at the trendy Athens restaurant Cookoovaya, which lays claim to wise cuisine. Our visit was less than conclusive on the 'wisdom of the cuisine' part, as some of the dishes were better than others and one was actually disappointing, but the atmosphere and the service were just fine, as was their house olive oil. the wine we had - chosen by modest old me, natch! - was superb, though and not as aggressively priced as elsewhere: Papagiannakos  Estate old vine Savvatiano 2016, a white grape variety from the vineyards of Attica more traditionally found in Retsina. Unresinated and from a serious producer like Papagiannakos it produces a very classy, concentrated, complex wine with subtle notes of ripe white fruit, balancing acidity and a very long finish. Both the estate and Savvatiano are stars in the making for the international stage, as they offer a superb product that can be matched to different foods, but would drink beautifully on its own as well. Overall, and with lots of nice wine inside me,  I was well pleased, especially as I did not need to concern myself with the bill.

A few days later I attended a dinner hosted by the Greek Academy of Gastronomy and its core group, the Friends of Dionysos, where I am a member, though mostly absent these days. I was extremely fortunate in attending this specific event, as the wines  accompanying the food were rare and exceptional, stunning examples of the best of Greek wine, real world-class stuff. The first wine was from the late and much-missed Haridimos Hatzidakis, the wizard of wine making in Santorini and was a masterpiece: Cuvee no.15 from 2011, made from organic Assyrtiko grapes without any barrel-ageing. The light golden colour hinted at its age and the wine's nose was ripe, full of complex citrus fruits, slightly bittersweet, metallic and earthly notes. The palate reflected this and was even more impressive, with varying waves of taste sensation rolling across the tongue kept fresh by good acidity, and staying there almost indefinitely - wow! Good with food of many different types including, of course, fish and seafood, this on its own would be a meal in itself, a real treat that would do me.

The second wine, also from Santorini, was made by the local red grape variety Mavrotragano (literally black and crunchy), recently salvaged from extinction by Pari Sigalas of Domaine Sigalas only a few short years ago. I must admit that previous encounters with this particular wine had been underwhelming, when I found it unbalanced, with hard tannins and little charm. But what a difference a few years make in the wine world - this example from, I am told, a good vintage on Santorini (2013), was ripe and luscious. The deep red, almost black, colour prefaced a rich nose of ripe red berry fruit, good tannins and the minerality of the terroir (flint?) in the background. The wine was equally attractive on the palate with layers of cherry/sour cherry, damson and blackberry fruit, with a balanced tannic backbone and the earthiness completing an impressive picture. After that, he long aftertaste was only to be expected - and it was there! The Sigalas Mavrotragano 2013 changed my view on the species, it was so impressive.

And I even got to present the eau de vie, a superb Poire Williams from those newcomers to wine (founded 1639) Hugel of Riquewihr, Alsace - so clean, aromatic, just perfect! Oh, and the food that night was pretty good, too...

The Rule of Law

My youth was (mis)spent defying the rule of law in many ways, mainly involving motor vehicles of various descriptions, but largely involving motorcycles and riding without a valid licence. This, in turn, seemed to give me the green light to pursue other, slightly less than legal, activities such as speeding, wheelies etc., which I duly did to excess. But I was fortunate to survive that phase, so moved on to racing motor cars and appeared to try new ways to rub myself out; this blog is testament to my failure and you, dear reader, may well wish I hadn't.

Be that as it may, most of us eventually grow up and realise that laws are there to help civilised societies exist and overcrowded cities function. It would be literally impossible for a any form of society to function on a day-to-day basis without an established set of rules to define and, indeed, set  limits for individual behaviour -the freedom that allows each individual to do whatever one wants swiftly leads to anarchy. It has always been absurd to expect all human beings to observe unwritten rules of 'common' sense and 'common' decency, and self-police same effectively; it just never happens - and has never happened - for more than a short period of time. Rather, groupings of people have realised the importance of establishing clearly stated rules of behaviour whose transgression is punishable in some way.

This is all a prelude to me expressing my disappointment at the way some people seem to think that rules and laws should not be obeyed whenever it does not suit them or their needs. And I'm not talking about young children or even teenagers, who have the excuse of being young and, therefore, not knowing how things work; no, we are talking about people over 21, often far older, who one could expect would be mature, knowledgable and who saw themselves as members of a free, just society. It is clearly absurd to see these individuals cynically break whatever law does not suit them whenever it does, yet still lay claim to society's structures and protection as and when needed. These people are causing immense harm and nowhere in Europe is this more in evidence than in Greece, a country fully equipped with laws for everything that are largely ignored and selectively or occasionally enforced.

You may well assume that I have gone mad or become hugely conservative, forgetting my 'naughty' youth and all my shenanigans as mentioned in the opening paragraph, that I have become a 'holier than thou' kind of person who is strict on the misdemeanours of others while exempting myself. It is not so, dear reader, but I am now older, more mature and, essentially, wiser; certainly wise enough to realise that without clear rules properly enforced (a.k.a. laws) no complex society can function and, therefore, exist. To believe otherwise is to be either extremely naive and/or very young,  or rather stupid. Anarchists, the main adherents to such a credo, are not, realists but believers in a utopia that has never yet existed in humankind's brief history. Society, indeed, needs to defend itself by ensuring the rules are obeyed properly and misbehaving members are not allowed to do this at will, even punished, to keep the system (which is there to protect the vast majority of people) working.

For illustration purposes I am showing a number of traffic offences which are relatively minor in the general scheme of things. They do show, however, the general contempt for the prevailing laws and a lack of respect for other citizens; they are also a lot easier to photograph and display! And it just isn't acceptable to turn a blind eye to misdemeanours as being less important, as we become accustomed to not respecting small things and, eventually, just as easily accept not respecting far more important, indeed crucial, laws.
And remember, guys and gals, stupidity is no excuse...  You WILL be judged on your actions, not somebody else's omissions or errors.

My Family (and no other animals...)

It is often said that we choose our friends but not our family, and I have often bored you with tales of how lucky I have been in respect of my friends, how they've supported me during hard times, helped me enjoy the good times and generally made my life richer and more complete, more fulfilled.

Today I'm going to tell you about my family, immediate and extended, and I will try to tell you why I feel I have been immensely lucky in that respect also. Some of you know me well and know my family, so to you this may be old hat, even boring, but I would urge you to keep quiet and not spoil it for the rest, my myriads of other readers who only know me through this blog.

I was born in the nineteen fifties, a second child and first/only son to my parents. My mother's elder sister also had two children, both girls and correspondingly the same age as us, and we all lived together in my maternal grandfather's house, benevolently supervised and supported by my grandparents. As this was not long after the end of the post WW2 Greek civil war the reasons for this did not revolve solely around familial loyalty and affection but had a lot to do with the difficult times that the Greek economy was going through and the relatively straightened circumstances of our respective families. Yet it worked amazingly well and with very few problems between the families, the children especially; rather, we were like happy brother and sisters. growing up in a crowded house full of love, respect and affection.

The photograph is from my and my contemporary cousin's christening, which in those bygone times took place at home; our respective sisters are at our sides on other end, and the girl in the middle is my 2nd cousin Sandra who grew up to be even more beautiful! The party after the ceremony - I was christened Greek Orthodox - was, I believe, a happy one for all concerned and various other photographs I cannot display for technical reasons show adults in various smiling poses and admiring the two victims (my cousin H. and me). Our parents appear in the important roles of smiling, proud parents.

There are, to my knowledge, no perfect people anywhere and my parents were no exception, but they were decent, honest, believed in fairness and taught us frugality and responsibility, personal and collective, in a simple, easy to understand way. We were taught to never take anything for granted, to work hard to achieve results but to dream as well. Alas we were never taught to be self-promoters, arrogant and aggressive towards others, things that in our family were considered extremely poor form - and, incidentally, I'm only half joking when expressing my regret.

Yet it is not just the past that makes me talk of my family as a blessing, lovely as most of it was. Since this photograph was taken, only a short time ago (ha-ha), I have been fortunate to meet many other members of my family, close relatives and distant; I have seldom, if ever, had any reason to regret meeting them. In fact most of my relatives have also become friends, so we have a strong, double bond which has given - and continues to give me and, I hope, them - a great deal of pleasure. I am pleased and grateful that our relationship has, with most people, strayed far from the formal or staid, the obligatory and the tedious, and is instead a pleasing, living thing! And I keep meeting new ones, young and old...

It is the positive way we have all evolved and our relationship also, the support we still give to one another - and have done for most (but not all) of our lives - and the willingness to try and listen/offer help to the one who was in need. And as my dedicated readers know I have been in serious need over the last few years, so I have had plenty of opportunity to appreciate and report on this first hand! Together with my friends, my family have helped create a protective net of care and affection around me, to ensure my mental and physical well-being and protect me from more extreme hardship, and from myself.

For all this, for the past and the present, for the unwavering trust, kindness and love, I am and will be immensely grateful to the end of my days.

The price of 'success' is complete failure!

Should you be so inclined, dear reader, and your psychiatrist has not yet advised you against it, you may have seen and read the recent triumphalist announcements emanating from the Greek government of the day announcing the success of their economic policies. Due to aforesaid success the country is expecting to be released from the 'shackles' of its lenders and the IMF, seek to borrow on the open markets again and get on with being a normal country, fully in control of its own affairs again.

That's where the psychiatrist comes in, though he/she/it (trendy, or what???) is obviously tending to the wrong people, namely the citizenry, when the ones under supervision or, even, restriction, should be the government, its political allies and assorted politicians of all denominations responsible for the present mess. The reason I say this is that there is NO recovery, NO growth, LITTLE progress in any front after nearly ten years of crisis/recession/meltdown. Any surpluses appearing in government accounts are due to excessive taxation and careful management (some might even say massaging) of the figures to make a good impression to the outside world.

Taxation has largely not been from the tax-avoiding, scheming, non-contributing part of the population, however, but from the property owning and income-generating people; they have now, alas, been taxed to oblivion and have been living and paying taxes (those that have been able to) from the money they had set aside to invest in their future, and that of their families and their businesses. This well of funds, so richly tapped until now, is drying out - the government is eating the flesh of its citizens and destroying the middle class. At the same time, typically for this country of dishonest politicians and emotionally immature citizens, the public sector is protected, even pampered, and allies of the current lot are constantly being hired to fill newly-created, often unnecessary, positions, much as has happened over the last 35 years and more.

This is utterly shameful when the private sector is being decimated every day by excessive taxation, ludicrous strikes and business legislation, and practices that belong to the 1960s if not the 1930s. Everybody here is quick to talk about rights but hardly anyone mentions responsibilities, unless they are referring to others. The business climate - for businesses that could produce growth, that is - is worse than it had ever been, with the government mouthing platitudes on the one hand and strangling using the other.

It is amazing that, despite this state of affairs, Athens remains a place that should be on every world traveller's itinerary - it is steeped in history, the Acropolis and surrounding sites are magnificent, and the city centre is full of lovely buildings, many in poor condition, beautiful old churches, little independent wine bars and restaurants  - something to satisfy most peoples' tastes. A warming sun usually presides over this, smiling down on visitors. That is not to say that things are perfect, as on a bad day the pollution can be choking, demonstrations can bring the city to a standstill and regular public transport strikes and general unreliability can be annoying. Yet it is still a place that can enchant the visitor who is willing to walk around, look around, notice things, soak in the atmosphere and avoid the tourist traps and tawdry taverns serving shite to the unsuspecting.

If you walk around and look, though, you will also notice things that until a few years ago were almost completely unknown: the homeless sifting through the rubbish bins (something last seen in Greece during the German occupation of WW2), the drug addicts, the beggars, the destitute. These were things that used to shock Greeks when encountered elsewhere, but are now commonplace here. The smell of failure is all-pervasive and difficult to ignore, unless you are a politician.

This is the 'success' the government is crowing about. They are even, apparently, planning to have a major fiesta to celebrate, to be followed by elections before anybody has a chance to notice that it is all an illusion and, therefore, re-elect them. Meanwhile the business climate worsens, taxes do not lessen and few plan to start new businesses, or grow their existing ones in Greece. I would like to think that Greece's lenders will see through the smokescreen of lies and make-believe and will not allow the country freedom to exit the control mechanisms before it has done something - and even very little will do - to create growth. And growth can only come from the private sector, much brutalised, maligned and abused by the Greek state and its governments.

If the present state of things represents success I would hate to be confronted with failure.

Another day, another memorial service

On a beautiful, hot day in Athens the remaining core of the Friends of Dionysus got together to remember our dear departed friend Lefteris Kouris, who passed away unexpectedly a year ago. As the  whole point of the 'friends' is the appreciation of wine and, indeed, food, we held not only a traditional greek orthodox church memorial and the ensuing coffee, but a very fine lunch as well. A direct result of this is this post, where wine takes precedence bu, making things more interestingt - if you're fortunate dear reader - a tiny bit of wisdom might show its little head!

My temporary exile from London is peppered with events, some, like this, bittersweet; luckily there are other events that make up for the sorrow. And wine is ever-present, to make life (mine, anyway, and by extension yours...) more interesting. Of course the other factor that makes Athens pleasant this time of year is the decidedly spring/summer weather, necessitating wearing t-shirt and shorts quite a lot, something that this time of year is far less likely (but not impossible, it was sizzling last week) in London.

Luckily for irreligious old me the priest was in a hurry and had already finished all services early - he was done by the time I got to the little church! The traditional greek post-memorial coffee was a more modern affair, with cappuccino and espresso taking the place of 'greek' (turkish) coffee. Over coffee and biscuits we sat reminiscing and mentioning all sorts of stories involving our absent friend, many of which were quite hilarious, and it all made me feel almost that he was somewhere near, close by and soon to appear, that we would hear his gently caustic remarks again. We all miss him in our different way.

On to lunch, to replicate many such occasions when our friend was present not just in spirit, but in body as well, laughing with us and enjoying the food and wine on offer. The venue chosen - Blue Pine in Kifissia (suburb to the north of Athens) has been a regular haunt of the Friends of Dionysus for over 20 years, and the owners accommodate our need to bring our own wine so drinking is always at least very, very good and, more often than not, wonderful. And so it proved to be and we enjoyed three different wines that I'm sure Lefteris would have approved of.

We kicked off with a Chablis 1er Cru Montee de Tonnerre from Jean-Marc Brocard and from a variable vintage (2005) that was past its best but still delicious, especially if like me you like older wines. Its age is obvious in its golden colour and the first bottle was on the way to oxidation, subdued but holding on. The second bottle was fresher, with livelier ripe white fruit aromas  and a longer, cleaner finish, a graceful old wine drinking well. As most 1er Cru Chablis is not really wine for ageing, showing its best in late youth with its steely, lightly complex chardonnay flavours,  I thought this did rather well. Most of us had a salad of some sort as a starter, with mine being an excellent boiled courgette affair served with some tasty olive oil. The Chablis managed to match it and not completely overpower its flavours.

I then opted for a Tournedos Rossini, having recently mentioned it in a post; Blue Pine's version would not win any awards for execution but the meat was tender and tasty, even if the foie gras was thin and the sauce over-sweet. The brilliant pommes allumettes they always serve helped to make the dish more satisfying than it would otherwise have been. The red wine to accompany the main course was one from Lefteris' adopted country of Italy (insider joke alert), from a superb vintage (1997), one of the best areas,  a top producer and from one of his top vineyards: a Brunello di Montalcino Cerretalto 1997 from Casanova di Neri. The Casanova estate was started by the Neri family in the early 1970s and Cerretalto was the first vineyard they acquired; its old vines produce a big, lush wine with deep colour, even after 21 years, and ripe, intense red fruit aromas and luscious taste, quite untypical of most wine made from the Sangiovese grape. This is serious wine from a serious producer, which stays in oak barrels for 36 months, then 24 months in the bottle before being released - no quick money making from the Nerri family! Here we started with the fresher of the two bottles and progressed to the marginally more subdued one, as we got stuck into sauces and fries, with the wine more than matching everything with the succulent red winter berry fruit and quince aromas, intense, complex and smooth as silk fruit on the palate. And long, long, staying in the mouth.

I suppose dessert HAD to follow, and with it an incredible sweet wine (moelleux) from Foreau, the amazing producer of Vouvray at Domaine du Clos Naudin in the Loire valley. Those of you who do not like sweet wine should put aside your prejudices and taste something like this - a 1997 (excellent year) moelleux - you'll wonder why you'd been so blinkered, even stupid, for so many years. To say these wines are complex is like saying the sun rises in the east, simplistic! They are natural, rich and intense yet full of subtleties and surprising nuances, and you can find traces of most any flavour in there, astounding creations of passionate, dedicated people who love what they do, and do it to perfection. What a joyous end to an occasion full of remembered warmth and laughter but tinged with sadness. My dessert was irrelevant - a chocolate ice-cream of sorts - but I consumed it anyway to keep the calorie count up. Ah, suffer the little children and I with them...

For the wine lovers among you, please understand that quality costs in more ways than one, and that fine wine is not just cheap wine in fancy bottles. Many things make a difference, from the yield of the vines, to grape selection, to cellar work, to time in cask and type of cask, to time in bottle etc. etc. Do some research, choose good producers, spend bit more but wisely and age stuff properly if possible.
Wine is often made with passion and is worth being passionate about, seeking out the stuff that contain passion as an added ingredient! Don't drink industrial rubbish - often paying only a little more results in a much better wine...

I love wine and so did my friend Lefteris, who is much missed and whom we suitably honoured - rest in peace.