As a proud New Zealander, Caro, I imagine that your prandial drink would most probably be a local New Zealand wine, no? However, does the fact that the're from NZ vinyards actually make these wines any more available or cheaper for you?

When I lived in Surrey, England, I was no more than 30km from England's largest vinyard (the huge Denbies estate near Dorking) yet you very rarely saw their wine in the local shops and if you did come across it the price was typically at least twice, if not more, what you would expect to pay for an imported French or German wine of comparable quality. The nearest vinyards to me now that I'm in southern France are those on the coastal plain towards Perpignan (again the nearest are about 30km away) but their wines are readily available in all the local supermarkets; whether in proper bottles (the good stuff) or just in 3-litre wine boxes or even in 10-litre 'cubies' (for basic vin de table), which although obviously not the finest wine is still perfectly acceptable to accompany a simple convivial meal with friends of family.

It's obviously now spring for you in the southern hemisphere but here in France, with the vendage having been completed about eight weeks ago, we are just starting to see the vins des primeurs - the fresh new wines from this year's harvest - is that a thing in NZ? There was a seller for a major regional vinyard (offering free tastings, yum-yum) at our village's autumn fete/festival. This event is cannily always held on 11 November which coincides St Martin's Day - the traditional date of harvest festival as well as him being the patron saint of the village church - with Armistice Day (St Martin of Tours was a originally a Roman soldier and so he is considererd to be the soldier's saint). Which all means there might perhaps be a few extra people around the war memorial at 11 o'clock. This year for Armistice/Remembrance, while the village population is only about 250, there were still 60 of us present - so not a bad turn-out.

Back in the day when my Belgian partner was alive and we moved in a social circle that included the owners of a rather good restaurant in the centre of Brussels and a couple who ran a very up-market hotel and wedding venue just outside the city in a restored 16th century abbey, we used to get invited to the annual Beaujolais Nouveau party in Brussels (the 3rd week in November). It was always good fun although actually I'm not a big fan of Beaujolais Nouveau. New wines can be great when drunk outside on a sunny terrace in the south of France on a warm afternoon while listening to the local jazz group, but they're rather less appealing in a grand hotel's caverous conference suite on a chilly November evening in central Brussels.

So this afternoon - having successfully finished raking up most of all the fallen leaves, and as today is particularly mild and sunny - I'm having an inexpensive local (to me) red wine. It's just as a small aperitif you understand as there's still more gardening to be done ... that is provided I can muster the necessary "oomph" in another hour's time.

Meles meles wrote:

I'm not a big fan of Beaujolais Nouveau. New wines can be great when drunk outside on a sunny terrace in the south of France on a on a warm afternoon while listening to the local jazz group, but they're rather less appealing in a grand hotel's caverous conference suite on a chilly November evening in central Brussels.

In full agreement with that Meles.

The Beaujolais Nouveau phenomenon is certainly a double-edged sword for the Beaujolais region because not all wines produced there are sold as Nouveau. It’s a global milch cow for many Beaujolais wine producers, yet if any scandal or label of naff gets attached to the primeur stuff (which happens quite frequently) then the whole region gets tarnished. There are, however, many excellent vins rouges tranquilles which are produced in the Beaujolais. I once helped out with the bringing in of the grapes in just such a vineyard. In fact it was the only vendange I ever took part in. A friend of the family owned a few hectares of vines outside the village of Chessy-les-Mines which is in the south of the Beaujolais region in the valley of the Azergues river a tributary of the Soane.

The vines were on steep south-facing slopes and the work was intense but fun. The Gamay grapes themselves are delicious to eat but most delicious of all was at the end of the day when the repas des vendanges was put on by the hosts. Tressel tables and benches were set out in the farmyard and a sumptuous dinner was presented for all the workers. Onion soup, salads, grilled chicken, roast beef, fresh bread, pâté, ham, cheeses, apricots, peaches, blackcurrants, fromage frais, crème fraiche – a feast of the best produce imaginable. With reference to the roast beef, then I sometimes chuckle at the fact that the French refer to the English as ‘les rosbifs’ because I’ve never tasted roast beef as good as that. That rôti de boeuf (I think it was topside) tied up in string and sitting in a pot of red brown juices and shallots was simply the roast beef of dreams.

The Chessy vignerons were also quite dismissive of ‘Nouveau’ and that has rubbed off on me. Consequently, I rarely drink Beaujolais Nouveau. But enuff years have now elapsed since I last did and so I might be tempted to try some this month.