The last blog post was pretty much a vehicle to promote the impending Red Laser Disco party in Manchester The Gods shone on Bosco once again. The gaff was one in one out by 12.30. I also made a bit of MONEY (Italo promoter in cash profit shocker!!!!!) I did the rounds getting rid by giving some of the crew a well-deserved bonus.
Proper ace vibes down the Roadhouse
Also on the night Randy Marsh and Bathtub rocked up with the first ever Red Laser Merch. Seems Marsh has turned his ‘tomb in Levenshulme’ into a slick production line producing everything from from Wet Play edible pens to limited as fuk Red Laser T’s designed by Marsh himself. You can catch this stuff and much more exclusively at virtual Nubian supermarket ‘The Pyramid Suite’. Plenty exclusive shit from Manchester’s finest nights and labels appearing here so, ladies and gents, log on and peruse the isles inside the Great Pyramid on the grid. Ladies – You may even make it out of the Nile! “Wheres that yaks milk biiiaaattch!” "Click here for The Pyramid Suite"
So to the main event. Seems that lots of you enjoyed the wine reviews a while back. Well I know you did cos I’ve been getting mithered to fuk to do a second lot. So here it is, Enjoy with me some crackers ive guzzled over the last few months.
Calusari - Pinot Noir – Romania - 2011
Yeah I couldn’t believe it too when a trusted connoisseur passed the bottle for me to av a scan. Ro-fukin-mania!!!! I spent some time in Romania back in 1999 and travelled it well. If all European countries suddenly turned into people, Romania would be the Bi Polar woman with the heavy periods. She's part amazingly beautiful, part unbearably terrible. Like a grumpy old gardener losing the war against the weeds, political fuckwit Ceausescu tried to concrete the whole fukin country and make it an industrial driveway into to Russia. I saw factory’s that belched unusual colours of smoke from chimneys built as high as 4 meters so I was expecting this tipple to taste of rust, sulphur and Gypsy shit. WRONG!! Just like the Transylvanian Alps this cracker is big, clean and beautiful. It’s also well cheap at around 7 nicker a bottle. While sitting in the garden on a sunny day Its colour was the first thing that hit my senses. It looked like liquefied ruby’s in a glass because of its fantastic bright jewel like appearance. Shit got even better when I started sinkin the bottle. It was so easy to quaff because of its complex mixture of vanilla, morning dew and cherry lips. Yeah that’s right those perfumey sweets shaped like luscious lips you used to get years ago. Verdict - Great outdoor sozzler. Goes well with plastic chairs and massive trampolines.
Errazuriz Wild Ferment - Pinot Noir -2009
Those Chilean dudes keep pumpin out high quality grog and now they kickin one of my favourite grapes too, the Pinot Noir. Possibly the longest thinnest country in the world Chile boasts a 6 and a half thousand mile eastern coastline that converts Pacific moisture into rain falling on mild mannered lama farmers and volcanic mountainside vineyards. The heady mix of fertile and exotic finds itself encompassed in this great wine with a bouquet so big you can smell it well before your chops hit the crystal. Like a big bunch of flowers has been thrust in your face it has a huge nose and then predictably a much subtler taste. Its soft strawberries and cream decay has a fresh summer feel to it and is great with decent bread and butter or ham and mustard sarnies. Verdict – Mega grog but full only reaches its full potential if you've got massive nostrils
La Umbra – Merlot – Romania - 2012
Once again its Ro-Fukin- mania. Those Romany gypos must of realised theirs no money to be made flogging flashing badges to pissed up bulbs outside nightclubs, selling bunches of heather and peddling ‘curse reverse’ charges. Instead they’ve got the whole family stomping on grapes and boy do those Romanian wines taste good. I was in Nisa down the road and spotted this at £7.00 on the shelf. (Nisa = Lower ranks corner shop chain) That’s well expensive for Nisa! 7 quid for an onslaught of jammy plums, sundried berries and gritty tannins. Beware – half a bottle of this will leave your teeth looking like you’ve been munching the Mrs at the wrong time of the month. (Does not apply to post-menopausal readers). Verdict - Ace with meat
Musar Jeaune Rouge – Lebanon - 2011
I just can’t get enough of Lebanese wine at the moment. Château St Thomas and Chateau Musar never fail to give me a hard on. And talkin of the latter I’m returning to that same vineyard I did in the first wines blog for another review but this time legendary wine maker Gaston Hochar has made it affordable for all us skint fukers that wanna just drink good shit at austerity prices. Chateaux Musar have created a young wine, not for storage or decanting. A straight outa da bottle hustler that’s cheeky as fuk and still delivers. Its around 8 quid in Booths and has all the characteristics of its vintage cousin but with a lot subtler depth. This young sexy fuk delivers leather and liquorice across the back of the tongue while tingling the tip with spiced damson and black berries. Its like snoggin a 35 year old glass collector workin in Witherspoons who’s addicted to cherry flavoured lip balm. Verdict - Fun and moreish. Fantastic with a cig
Angelo Veglio – Barolo, Italy - 2008
This review comes with a story of how NOT to run your bespoke wine store. While Bosco was deep in his quest for inspirational wines to blog on about he noticed a new wine shop had sprung up in Chorlton, which is Manchester’s ‘hipster of a certain age’ capital. I decided it would be the place for me to go and get that budget buster needed to complete the blog post and so I thought about what I could purchase. A classic Italian Borolo was the first inspiration to penetrate my dome because of its expensive notoriety and ace ‘roll off the tongue’ regional name. I had high hopes for a new genre of wine shop with an original outlook including an ‘everyone is welcome’ ethos. What I actually experienced was the fukin opposite! I opened the door into a (admittedly) well designed space. But immediately the first warning alarm went off in my bonce, No fukin music? Compete silence!!
To make the silence worse, the door shut behind me and I was the only punter in the shop. Also to make this situation worserer, the guy behind the counter just fukin stared at me.
S I L E N C E
I spoke first ‘Iya mate you alrite?” (Now I was doin his fukin job!!) He nodded and I realised my accent hadn’t helped the situation. What situation u ask? The bald Salfordian wearing a black gortex jacket in a wine shop type situation. This fuk must have thought he was getting robbed or summat. He had the expression of a bank teller lookin for the ‘under counter alarm button’ while never actually lookin down….. SO lets investigate the first 40 seconds of my experience - Wheres the fukin customer service? Where’s the bright and breezy ‘Hello, come in, come in. Please take a look around and if you have any questions or want any advice I would be happy to help.”???? The situation had already made me wish I was in a supermarket!!!! Things did not get any better. “Got any Borolo’s mate?” “er Yes” said the 6 foot corpse, and he reluctantly walked to the back of the shop and pointed at some bottles on a high shelf. “We have 2” he said and proceeded to watch me struggle on tippy toes trying to reach the bastard bottle, then wobble off balance nearly takin out all the bottles below. I thought “what the fuk am I doin?” I didn’t care anymore. I was gonna make this awkward for my own amusement. I turned up the accent for affect. “e ar mate your tall init get that for me for fuks sake”. He did without saying a word and we found ourselves back at the counter without any bottle information given, alternatives offered or advice for culinary marriages. I turned up the heat “Yer ever get any Lebanese shit in ere mate?” His answer was simply - “no”. I asked if there was a website and finished him off by promising I would book for me and ‘my crew’ to attend there next wine tasting session.
In short it was a painful experience. The thing is I worked it out that me and the Mrs on average sink around 4 bottles a week. Average price 7 nicker. 4 x 7 =£28. £28 x 52 = £1450.00 a year just in our gaff. If those cunts had 20 gaffs like ours buying from them then that’s £30k a year. There must be a thousand houses like ours in Stretford alone lads. Sort it out. If others have the same experience as me they would potentially lose a fortune. I will go in again and give it one more chance. They may have had a bad day but if it was about stigma then theyr fucked and probably be closed in a year.
Anyway the wine – Borolo’s are famously pricey and at so 19 quid this was a cheapo bottle. The fuker had to be decanted for at least an hour so we had it poured well before our evening scran. When the time was right we engaged our senses on the tipple. It has a nice clear garnet colour with what seemed to be very little tannins. The legs on the glass looked like they belong to Linford Christie and no wonder at 14% alcohol. The Mrs (the wonderful Emerald) immediately picked up the smell of almonds on the nose. “Hints of Bakewell tart” she said, which was bang on the money. Even tho the nose was deep the grog itself was sharp and cut the tongue with cranberries and cherry. This got better with every flush and is typcal of some strong wines that sometimes need your gob to adjust before its potential can be achieved. By glass number 2 I was sold and was throwing it down my neck. Verdict - Even tho the bottle recons this is best taken with meats and hard cheeses I advise Horror Disco and Analogue Chug