South African Whines

When I wrote the tasting notes for the 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon, I said this:

"There are only two dates in history that the average Englishman can remember. The first is 45AD, when Julius Caesar first stepped on the beach at Brighton and uttered the profound “Veni, vidi, vici.” Because of the perpetual gale winds that blow around English seaside towns the local inhabitants were always blue with cold and very, very grumpy. Also, they weren’t familiar with Latin and, consequently, were convinced Caesar was insulting them by calling them Weeny, Weedy and Weaky. So, following the lead of their ferocious and furious queen, Boadicea, they attacked the Roman troops with everything they had: chariots, spears, cudgels and scud missiles – although it must be said that history is a little unclear on the scud missiles.

The Romans were surprised and horrified by the vicious onslaught of the Britons, particularly by the lack of a coordinated wardrobe and very bad hair-dos. The skill with which the Britons handled their war chariots was marvelous to behold; the Romans were forced back into the sea. Indeed, the Romans may well have been defeated had tea-time not come up just as the Roman soldiers were fearfully groping there way back onto their boats; but it was 4 o’clock and the kettle was boiling, and if the Britons didn’t break then, it was almost certain that the corners would curl on the cucumber sandwiches laid out on the picnic tables.

The Roman commanders, not used to such social niceties but very envious of the strawberries and scones they had spotted on the doilies beside the teapots, ordered, first the cavalry to attack, then the foot soldiers. The Britons, appalled by the lack of good manners, left the beach and wouldn’t play any more for the rest of the day.

They did, however, allow the Romans to stay in the country long enough for them to install a state of the art highway system, and fix the plumbing at Bath.

The other date is 1066, when William the Bastard of Normandy arrived on the beach at Hastings with an army behind him and a plan to take over England from the Saxons and improve the dietary practices of this island so embarrassingly close to the French coast. The English were really quite agreeable to this. Since the Romans had left, the state of the roads had become appalling and the plumbing at Bath was almost non-existent. So a new influx of immigrant labor was very welcome.

Some resistance was put up by the jellied-eel vendors along the seafront, rightly worried by the fact that William owned the largest snail farm in France but had never found a practical use for them. Indeed, there were so many snails in France by then that the populace was being forced to eat them so that the country didn’t sink beneath the weight of the damn things. William had noticed that the English would eat virtually anything – tripe, blood pudding . . . scones – so he saw a potential market.

The natural English cunning came into play, however, and the jellied eel vendors prevailed. The English would not take the snails, instead they agreed to take the awful red wine that was being produced around the town of Bordeaux. It was a wine too thick and chunky for the delicate French palate, preferring as they did the dark rosey colored stuff from Burgundy. So, the French were allowed to stay as long as they learned to speak proper English and eat their vegetables boiled to just the right degree of sogginess."

I was wrong of course, the English remember one other date: 1966. That's the year England won the World Cup. And I think it's safe to say future generations of English will come to remember 2010 for the same reason.

This all came to me last Saturday while I was pouring Lone Canary wine at Fles Wine Shop in Issaquah. The owner, Frank Springmann is from Holland, and it seemed to me that he and I should be solid friends for the remainder of this year because our relationship could very well become strained next year. You see, not only is it World Cup year and England is going to nab the trophy even though Holland is ranked higher, but the tournament is being played in South Africa where Frank's country and mine had a little disagreement around the beginning of the last century: The Boer War.

As I typed those last words, it occurred to me that perhaps Americans don't know much about the Boer War beyond, perhaps, a vague recollection of having watched the movie Breaker Morant about 20 years ago. Don't feel bad though, I don't know much about it either except, obviously, that the English were the good guys...Or at least that's what our history books said.