This summer, we’re taking you on a tour of some of our favourite wine regions via their cultural riches. Here, Charlie Geoghegan takes us on a food, wine and music-based journey through Spain. 

As a kid, my idea of going on holiday was inextricably linked to Spain. I grew up in Dublin in the early 1990s, and Spain, it seemed, was the holiday destination of choice for virtually everyone I had ever met: friends, teachers, neighbours, grandparents. We didn’t go abroad ourselves until I was about seven, when my parents, my sister and I set off for the Costa del Sol. We’d make several similar trips in the years that followed, to foreign-sounding places like Malaga and Fuengirola and Torremolinos. It was all very sophisticated and different for my primary school-going self. These were exciting, exploratory days, though I didn’t even scratch the surface of what the country had to offer. Spain to me was all sun, sea and sand. And weirdly, everyone spoke English and all the restaurants served beans-on-toast and chicken nuggets. 

In more recent years I’ve been back to Spain several times, slowly but surely covering more and more ground. The rugged, isolated terraces of Priorat; the sweeping vistas of Rioja; the forgotten vineyards of Navarra. Bustling cities like Barcelona and Madrid with their heaving markets and masses of people; tapas heaven on the streets of Logroño; and a random smattering of Irish pubs, karaoke bars, motorway cafeterias and assorted tourist traps. I can wholeheartedly recommend trying them all at least once. 

But if a trip there is not on the cards this summer, don’t worry. There are some simple steps you can take to recreate the experience in your own back garden. Here’s how I suggest you do it. 

What to drink

2020 LG Valbuxán, Tinto, Telmo Rodríguez, Valdeorras, Spain

Valdeorras is not exactly Spain’s best-known wine region, and if you do know it, you’re more likely to have tried its white wines than its reds. The local speciality is the Godello grape, which can produce some outstanding, complex whites (like this one from Rafael Palacios). But don’t overlook the reds here. The Mencía grape, better known in nearby Bierzo, leads the way, either as a standalone single-varietal wine or in a red blend. 

The 2020 LG Valbuxán from superstar Telmo Rodríguez is a blend of Mencía and other local grapes, including the white Godello. The wine has a really attractive nose of spicy blackberries, wild herbs and even a whiff of salty, briny olives. It is absolutely delicious. In the mouth, it’s medium bodied with fine tannins that just melt away. There’s a good concentration of flavour, with blackberry, menthol and floral notes which stick around on the long, refreshing finish. If the dynamic Telmo Rodríguez is not already on your radar, this is a great wine with which to become acquainted. It walks a nice line: it’s the sort of thing you could enjoy by itself, more or less, though it has the structure and depth to work well with a range of foods. 

What to eat

Tapas, and lots of it 

Eating out in Spain is a rather blurry experience, I find. Things move fast and slow at the same time, and time itself ceases to matter a great deal. There’s a manic, rushed energy in the air, and it’s not out of the ordinary to witness a hot-blooded argument of one kind or another, like a narky exchange between two guys on mopeds. And yet there’s no hurry, no great impetus to be anywhere other than wherever it is you are – sitting around a barrel at this market-stall, sipping Cava at this crowded bar, tucking into this plate of something or another. 

Picture a buzzing bar somewhere in Madrid or Haro or Valencia. Standing room only. They don’t take reservations, and every square inch of the place is occupied by hungry, thirsty people in twos, threes or tens; they’re speaking musical, fluid-sounding languages you may or may not understand. You’re with friends or family, standing around chatting, eating and drinking. You occupy a space so tiny and so far from a flat surface that it almost defies physics when you somehow manage to balance your plate, your fork and your glass. Your friend contorts their entire body to reach across and take the latest round of tapas from the overworked, charmingly grumpy waiter. This time, it’s tiny little sardines in olive oil, croquetas and a second helping of that chargrilled octopus. Dishes are passed around while another friend tops up everybody’s glasses. The food is good, and it’s going quickly; you should probably place another order in a second, and – wait. Did you see that? That couple with the baby have just asked for the bill. They have a prime spot at the bar. No point in being subtle here; you make a beeline across the room. And just in time, too: the waiter is back with a steaming hot pot of shredded rabbit. Someone asks for the wine list; you might be here for a while. 

I’ve had some of the best meals of my life in Spain. I fear that trying to recapture the magic with any degree of accuracy would be doomed to failure. So don’t bother. Just get some loved ones together, lay on some tapas, and away you go. 

You can be as ambitious or as straightforward as you like. It’s relatively quick and easy to put together some patatas bravas and some garlicky aioli; you can buy the latter premade, even. Padron peppers are easy enough to find in big supermarkets, and very simple to fry in a pan with some good salt and oil. There’s a lot you can do with chorizo, drowning it in red wine being a perfectly acceptable way to go. If you’ve got the time and the inclination, some croquetas can really elevate the experience. Take your pick otherwise of calamari, grilled green beans, garlic mushrooms and whatever else tickles your fancy. Word to the wise: these may be small dishes, but some of them can be quite a lot of work. Make it worth your while by inviting a crowd, or else limit yourself to just a few of them. 

What to listen to

It turns out I don’t actually listen to an awful lot of Spanish music per se. This is something I’ll aim to rectify, or at least explore a little further. For the record, a couple of my all-time favourite albums are performed in Spanish: Dance Mania (1958) from the American bandleader Tito Puente; and Buena Vista Social Club (1998), from the Cuban group of the same name. Either or both would make a wonderful accompaniment to an al fresco glass of Mencía with a couple of small plates.

I am, however, partial to a piece of music by the Spanish composer Joaquín Rodrigo called “Concierto de Aranjuez”. I came to know it indirectly, through the album Sketches of Spain (1960) by American jazzman Miles Davis. That album’s opening track, which takes up almost half of the record, is an interpretation of Rodrigo’s piece, co-arranged by Davis’s longtime collaborator Gil Evans. Where Rodrigo’s piece is composed for classical Spanish guitar, Davis’s interpretation is played on the trumpet and flugelhorn. The album opens to the clapping of castanets, a hugely evocative sound that transports me immediately to those childhood holidays. The horn and, later, brass call to mind for me the vast swathes of Spain that I’ve not seen yet and may never see: the expansive landscapes of the Meseta Central at dusk; the rocky seascapes of Rías Baixas at dawn. This album may have been recorded in New York, but with its flamenco and Spanish-folk influences, I can think of no better musical accompaniment to a tapas-and-Telmo party. 

Or, if all else fails, go with some classic cheese. Those resorts on the Costa del Sol are a great place for a youngster to master the Macarena. And you’d be a cold soul not to at least crack a smile or tap a foot for a bit of Enrique Iglesias. 

Buy the 2020 LG Valbuxán from Telmo Rodríguez here. 

Our cellars at No.3 St James’s Street have been home to tastings, lunches and dinners for well over two decades. From introductory wine courses to exclusive events with some of the finest producers in the world, there is always something going on. But what does hosting such events actually involve? We spoke to two of our talented educators – Rebecca Lamont and Michael Dabbs – to find out more about a typical day.

With the exception of our One-Day Wine Schools, most of our events are afternoon or evening affairs. Therefore it stands to reason that our educators do far more than “just” teach.

“When I am not teaching,” says Michael Dabbs, “I am often preparing for upcoming events or helping my team with their event preparation. This can range from helping them select wines to doing a run-through of a particular section of their presentation. It is incredibly rewarding being part of this process and getting to work with such dedicated wine professionals.”

High energy

Equally, teaching is a high-energy role, so getting into the right frame of mind before an event is key. Rebecca Lamont does “very little” the morning before hosting a Saturday dinner, she says.

“I want to save my verve for the evening event, so I rest. But, in the back of my mind, I am going over everything for the event: the logistics of how I am going to get to the cellars on time, going through my timing for checking the wines and dietary requirements, reminding myself of when I need to check in with the Operations team and chefs. Also, I’ll be going through what I need to take, and thinking about the guests, the seating plan, making amendments to paperwork and rehearsing all my notes about the wines.”

Months in the planning

That perhaps doesn’t sound overly restful for some. The preparation for these events starts months in advance too, argues Rebecca.

“When putting together events, the prep often starts three to six months in advance, choosing the wines and arranging the dates. There are then emails to the Buyers about setting aside stock. There’s always a dilemma of whether to choose rare bottles for a treat at the event, but knowing if guests enjoy them, they won’t be available to buy after the event; the fine wine market often has such limited stock.

“Although, I have to say BBX, our fine wine exchange, really helps solve this with the fantastic array of wines available.”

Preparation

Outlining how he juggles hosting events on a diverse array of regions, Michael confirms that preparation is crucial.

“Generally, we’ll each be looking after several events per week and so we have to wear a few different specialist hats,” he says. One night, we may be in the Pickering Cellar, hosting 30 people for an Introduction to Bordeaux. The next, we may be guiding guests through a selection of the wines of Piedmont with a four-course dinner.”

For him, most preparation begins by creating the theme and choosing the wines, “months in advance.” Then, in the ensuing weeks, he’ll begin to piece together the specific running order, key focus points or learning objectives, and additional detail on the specific wines.

Of course, Michael clarifies, “not all of this content will make it into the final event, but we need to have a lot of information at our fingertips. By the time the day of the event comes around, the only thing that should need to happen is last-minute refinements and tweaks.”

The joy of hosting

Perhaps unsurprisingly, given all this work, the joy Michael, Rebecca and our other educators receive from hosting is immense. For Michael, it’s about sharing his knowledge and expertise, arguing that “the best thing about educating is the ‘light bulb’ moment when you see that something you’ve just explained or highlighted has really resonated with a guest.”

But there are special moments from guests too, he says. “Hosting allows me to share incredible products and their stories with guests from all over the world. We had one gentleman at a dinner last week who first came to Berry Bros. & Rudd in 1961 and could still recall exactly what he purchased!”

For Rebecca too, there’s real pleasure in seeing guests gain in confidence.

“I love it when our guests have so much to say about the wines. They are all on their own journey of self-discovery.” She continues, highlighting that “they are in a safe place where they can say exactly what they think. Knowing that I’m helping them to answer questions and satisfy their curiosity about wine, that is marvellous.”

Memories and emotions

And of course, emotions are often key when it comes to wine. “One time we were serving an old Sassicaia,” she confides, “and one guest shared ‘I’ll always love this wine because this was the wine my now-husband bought in the restaurant for our first date’. Memories and emotions play a huge part in our enjoyment and I always like to acknowledge this.”

Given this, it is no great surprise that more than a few of our events have enduring emotional resonance for some guests. “We’ve actually managed to start a few romances with our events,” Rebecca confirms, “and one or two couples can always say they met in our cellars at No.3 St James’s Street. I think it’s the Bordeaux events that have started the most partnerships over the years.”

Learn more about our events.

This summer, we’re taking you on a tour of some of our favourite wine regions via their cultural riches. Next stop: South Africa.

For a country covering so much landmass, it is hardly a surprise that the climate in South Africa is diverse. Yet even within the narrow realm of the winelands, the variation in weather from one region to the next is really quite extreme. I remember visiting Richard Kershaw a few years ago, who makes delicious cool-climate Chardonnay and Syrah in coastal Elgin. His property is around a 40-minute drive over the mountains from Franschhoek, yet the climate is often worlds apart.

He would drive from his winery wearing trousers, jumper, a raincoat and a hat due to torrential rain and a cold wind to visit a friend in Franschhoek — where the sun would have been shining all day, workers in shorts and t-shirts mopping their sweating brows. His friend would normally greet him with a quizzical look and “Richard, are you quite well?”

I noticed this drastic shift in weather when visiting Constantia. To the south of Cape Town, and sticking out into the ocean, it has its own microclimate: cool with frequent cloud cover and rain showers. This spit of land has numerous wineries but also Simon’s Town, famous for its penguin colony. I often joke to wine students when teaching them about South Africa that there’s a reason there are penguins here; it can get astonishingly cold. And whilst the temperature may not quite dip as low as Antarctica, even in summer there is a near-constant cool breeze.

For those of us enjoying summer in the UK this year this is heartening to know, I think. It doesn’t, in fact, need much imagination to transport ourselves to South Africa – albeit one of the cooler, coastal regions of this diverse country.

What to drink

2022 Constantia Glen, Sauvignon Blanc

The microclimate in Constantia has two key effects on the grapes in this region, resulting in higher acidity than fruit grown inland, and also fresher fruit flavours. The result is mouthwatering wines that are ideal with food.

This beautiful Sauvignon Blanc from Constantia Glen has all the refreshing character one would expect from this grape, but none of the overtly herbal and leafy flavours that can sometimes dominate in Sauvignon Blanc. A tiny proportion of Semillon in the blend also adds a touch of richness to the wine, making it a joy to savour on its own, as well as with food.

What to eat

Of course, if recreating the South African experience in your back garden, the only food to really consider is braai. Being brought up on traditional English barbecues – rain, supermarket burgers, and disposable BBQs used too hastily, leaving the food scorched on the outside and undercooked in the middle – I am unable to add much insight here. Fortunately, friends from Durban take on this important responsibility, diligently tending to the grill and providing stacks of perfectly cooked strip steak, chops, and boerewors.

Spicy and tannic red wines, such as Syrah or Cabernet Sauvignon, often pair nicely with such spreads. But whilst we wait (and wait, and wait) for the food to be cooked to perfection, there is always plenty of spicy biltong to snack on; for me, a chilled glass of Sauvignon Blanc contrasts with this beautifully.

What to read

The Smallest Kingdom, Michael & Liz Fraser (2011)

Potentially an unusual choice, this is neither insightful political history, nor a rip-roaring page turner of a novel. Instead, it is a beautifully illustrated overview of one of the most important, but arguably least understood plant kingdoms in the world (and, as the title suggests, by far the smallest).

The soils and climate in the Cape have resulted in a truly unique ecosystem of plants, one that has beguiled botanists for centuries. It’s no coincidence the fynbos display won best in show at Chelsea this year. For anyone interested in the environment of South Africa, and how vines fit into that, this is a unique and beautiful book.

What to listen to

Matthew Mole

A singer and songwriter from Cape Town, Mole describes his music as folk with an electronica influence. However, that arguably pigeonholes him too much. There’s an indie feel to his music, and a wonderful humour woven through as well. On top of this, he’s a multi-talented artist, playing guitar, piano, drums, ukelele and banjo, among others.

His songs span from upbeat at a jogging tempo (for example Run, at 107bpm, perfect to listen to on a light lunchtime lap of the park) to more mellow with electronic beats woven through (Light, ideal music for a lazy afternoon in the garden, Sauvignon Blanc in hand).

Buy the 2022 Sauvignon Blanc from Constantia Glen here

When it comes to picnics, there are few if any rules. Here, Charlie Geoghegan sets out why that’s a very good thing. 

I love the ad hoc nature of a good picnic. With a dinner party, you’ve got timings and a plan and consequences if things go awry. Picnics are looser; the details are fluid, flexible and up for debate. Your friend neglecting to mention that they’re bringing their dog (or their spouse or their child) is really not that big a deal when it’s a picnic. Often, it’s those very deviations – the unexpected guest, the last-minute change of location – that make for a memorable occasion. 

The best picnic I can recall wasn’t supposed to be a picnic at all. I was on a wine holiday in Tuscany with my friend Mark, the summer before Covid. We were flitting between poky city hotels, Airbnbs in the middle of nowhere and – for this one night only – the luxury guesthouse of a leading Brunello di Montalcino producer. We had intended on having a slap-up dinner in the nearby town of Montalcino, and to make the most of it, we wanted to leave the rental car behind. It turns out that last-minute taxis in the Tuscan countryside don’t come cheap, however; the 15-minute journey each way would have cost us more than our dinner budget. The only solution: an emergency picnic. 

We took the car to town, stocked up on supplies and enjoyed an al fresco feast back at the deserted winery. We sat at a picnic table eating and drinking, listening to Van Morrison and Jeff Buckley albums on Spotify, totally uninterrupted but for one inquisitive deer and the occasional howling of the winery’s resident wolves. The sun set slowly and a low moon lingered just out of reach, undulating hills of vines all around us. Better than an overpriced ristorante any day of the week. 

If you’re not reading this from a Tuscan vineyard, worry not. The principles of a successful picnic remain the same whether you’re in Montalcino or Mile End: nice food and drink, good company and the great outdoors. There are few, if any, rules, but I have found that some things work better than others. 

The food 

You’re not putting together a tasting menu here; things don’t necessarily need to fit thematically or work in sequential order. It’s probably better if they don’t, actually. People will graze. Some will have had a big lunch, others might have dinner plans. Let them come and go at their own pace – and give yourself a break. 

The best picnics are an eclectic mishmash of different bits and pieces. Don’t let the distinction between homemade and shop-bought bother you too much. Something made with a little bit of TLC at home will typically be both tastier and cheaper than something grabbed from the supermarket fridge, but needs must. 

If you eat meat, charcuterie of some sort is a good bet. Buy a full chorizo or salami if you can, though pre-packed slices will do just fine. This stuff is pretty robust, generally, making it more suitable than a platter of sushi or sliced chicken. 

Cheese works well, too. Beware soft cheeses on hot days, but a St Nectaire, Comté or cheddar won’t melt away under pressure. Bulk things out with some olives, dips and crisps. And don’t forget some vegetables: bell peppers or carrots are great raw and chopped up, for example; or grab a jar of something pickled or brined from the shop. 

People sometimes bemoan a salad, and there are few sights more uninspiring than a Tupperware full of wilted, tepid lettuce leaves and sweaty Feta, just sitting there uneaten in the sun. You might find that something colourful attracts a crowd in a way that a standard green salad may not, though. Consider a tangy pineapple chow or a little beetroot-and-cumin number. Bread I can take or leave, personally, but a baguette or two will rarely go to waste among a crowd. Whatever you do, make it a team effort and encourage everyone to bring something. 

The wine 

Your food is a mixed bag, with all sorts of different flavours and textures going on; don’t get hung up on food-and-wine pairings. What you’re looking for is versatility. The weather will also be pretty good (hopefully), so you’ll want something refreshing rather than heavy or cloying. When choosing a wine, this might point you towards bubbles or acidity – or both. 

Acidity is one of those funny words you hear sometimes in wine. To most normal people, talk of “acid” might suggest something corrosive, dangerous or otherwise unpleasant. Not so here. The acidity we talk about in wine and food is a structural component that has the effect of providing mouth-watering refreshment. It is crucial to providing balance in many wines; without the requisite acidity, a Sauternes would taste too sweet, or a Barolo too tannic. Wines with high acidity work well with most foods. The acidity will famously “cut through” the fatty character of your chorizo or cheese, and it’ll have a positive (or at least a neutral) effect on your enjoyment of most other picnic foods. 

Sparkling wine is hugely versatile, and a good one will work well with just about any food. Our Own Selection Crémant de Limoux is a consummate crowd-pleaser. From England, Hambledon Vineyard’s Première Cuvée Rosé would add a little colour to the proceedings. A magnum of Leclerc Briant’s Réserve Brut Champagne would make it a party. 

For white wine, Riesling is the poster child for high acidity. Loved by wine-trade types and still not having fully shaken an unfair image of it all being sweet and insipid, you can often find very high-quality Riesling that offers real value for money. Our Own Selection Mosel Riesling is a case in point. Unoaked white Burgundy, notably from Chablis, also works well. The Petit Chablis from Guillaume Michaut of Domaine 47°N 3°E is a good choice. Northern Italian whites, something like our Own Selection Gavi, will also fit the bill nicely. 

There are some things to consider with red wines. Warm weather and big, full-bodied red wines aren’t a natural pairing for most people. Big, beefy reds can feel a little blowsy or overly alcoholic, and are probably best avoided. A picnic is probably not the time to pull the cork on something very old, either; the setting and the variety of food are likely better suited to something with immediate and apparent fruit character rather than the more ephemeral nature and leathery, savoury notes of an old Bordeaux. Something light- to medium-bodied, with plenty of fruit concentration and balancing acidity, is the sweet spot. You needn’t look much further than a Bourgogne Rouge from a top producer like Benjamin Leroux, though take your pick of red Burgundy. For a value alternative, try Denis Jamain’s Reuilly Rouge, Les Pierres Plates (a Pinot Noir from the Loire Valley) or something from Beaujolais. 

You can’t go too far wrong with these, though keep temperature in mind. A cooler bag will help, if you have one. Otherwise, err on the side of caution and throw everything – reds included – into the fridge for an hour or so beforehand. 

Browse our range of wines for warmer evenings.