Dia daoibh, wine-lovers. Let me start by thanking you for your many recent supportive messages. Irregular readers (shame on you!) may not be aware but my darling wife, the illustrious Madame G., broke her wrist a wheen o’ weeks back whilst out hooleying at an evening of sacred, liturgical music in St. Peter’s Cathedral, uppa Falls.
While we’re both immensely touched by your concern, we’re reaching a point where we feel that it’s me you should be worrying about. The relentless pressure of being responsible for 100% of domestic duties at our lovely home, Rose Cottage, eventually must take its toll. I fear I’m going slightly mad.
Today, I walked to Lidl. Instead of taking the usual way back home, I opted instead for a cycle path running alongside an enchanting brook, seemingly parallel to my traditional route. What could go wrong? A beautiful but windy road- abundant greenery and delightful flowers- led firstly to an unfamiliar industrial zone, thence to a very fleggy maze of an estate.
Our Wine of the Week tastes almost as green as the green, green glens of Orangefield Park where Stu rescued me
— Raymond Gleug
“Raymond, an bhfuil tú caillte?” a beefy, bald and heavily tattooed local politely enquired.
“Aye, tá me caillte,” (I am indeed lost both in life and right now) “a chara”, I conceded.
“Listen, mate” he continued, “you’re a United Irelander, right? I spit upon your constitutional aspirations but I wholeheartedly concur with what you wrote about the Irish language being for everyone, not just the fenians of west Belfast. So, I’ll guarantee you safe passage home. One condition”.
“Rud ar bith,” dúirt mise.
“Giz a recommendation- a dacent Spanish red”.
“Well, Stuart,” sez I (for such was his name), “take this as a token of my gratitude,” and dipping into my shopping bag, handed him a bottle of today’s first selection, the complex, supple and well-structured 2017 Palco Real Rioja Gran Reserva (£8.49, Lidl). A full-bodied, exuberantly juicy palate abounds with rich berry flavours before a deftly spiced finish. One for chorizo baked with tomatoes, courgettes and a few humble Irish spuds- like ourselves, Stu.
Back at Rose Cottage, it turned out it wasn’t just myself that had disappeared. Earlier, I’d prepared creamy potato gratin with beef sausages, thyme and onions, carefully setting aside a single sausage for emergencies such as an erstwhile lost yet presently found and ravenous Raymond feeling in need of an urgent beef injection.
Gone! Madame swore innocence and, you know, from the look in her eyes, I believed her. Bread and cheese would suffice.
For my next trick, I put together a truly magnificent Caesar salad (so my Madame said, so it must be true!) which I matched with today’s WINE OF THE WEEK- the zesty, fresh and delightfully fragrant 2025 Exceptional Albarino Rias Baixas (£11.75, Asda). Tasting almost as green as the green, green glens of Orangefield Park where Stu rescued me, a vibrant, herbaceous and floral bouquet leads to a stimulating palate with zingy flavours of lemon, lime and even a soupcon of sherbet before a brisk, clean and discreetly acidic finish.
Let’s finish there today- safe, happy and most of all, abhaile. GRMA, Stu, agus until next week, a chairde, sláinte!