Jonathan Ray

What ‘partygate’ got wrong about wine

What 'partygate' got wrong about wine
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There is palpable public outrage about the flagrant lockdown rule flouting of 10 Downing Street during Partygate. But for oenophiles everywhere, by far the most disturbing revelation is not that the Prime Minister broke the rules (even though he made the rules) or that he might have lied about it, but that staff in No. 10 scuttled to the local Tesco Express with a ‘wheelie’ suitcase in which to smuggle enough vino back to the office for ‘wine-time Fridays’. Talk about tasteless. 

It’s admirable that the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland lives in a modest flat above the shop instead of in some grand, sprawling neo-classical mansion surrounded by parkland. It’s appropriately British and democratic and helps stop the incumbent getting ideas above his or her station.

But, whatever the rights and wrongs of that other recent hullabaloo – ‘wallpaper-gate’ – it was somewhat demeaning to see our PM apparently so cash-strapped that he had to have a bit of a whip round among his mates to get the spare bedroom done up to the missus’s satisfaction. Just as it was excruciating to discover that the Downing Street parties had the air of a student knees up: ‘Hey chaps, who’s on the Tesco drinks-run this week and what time are we starting? And, by the way, bring your own bottle.’

In the drinks department at least, couldn’t they have raised the standards? I mean no disrespect to Tesco Express but Berry Bros & Rudd is only up the road and so are Justerini & Brooks and Fortnum & Mason. And they all deliver. Lockdown parties are one thing but a Fortnum & Mason order would surely have gone down even more swimmingly with the electorate.

As far as the wine goes, there was no need to spend a fortune. Berrys’ excellent and extensive house range starts at £9.95 a bottle and their fabled Good Ordinary Claret is only £11.95 a pop whilst the Good Ordinary White – a fresh, zesty Bordeaux Sauvignon Blanc – is a derisory £10.95. And if fizz is your thing, the superb J&B Sarcy NV Brut Champagne is a steal at just £22.08 a bottle.

But off to Tesco Express the Downing Street team went, having bafflingly ordered a £150 wine cooler in which to store the bottles.

It’s a complete joy, of course, to have well-chilled wine within handy reach. Indeed, in my teens I delighted in the fact that my father had a small free-standing fridge crammed with booze in practically every room – in his study, the sitting room, the dining room and the bedroom. He hated to be more than a yard or so from instant refreshment and, having been thus spoiled, I struggle too.

But a proper, bona-fide wine cooler will set you back anything from £1500 to £5000 plus. They are perfect for chilling up to 200 bottles of white wine and for the long-term storage of seriously fine reds and whites. They keep wine in ideal humidity, free of vibration and in two different temperatures – cold for white and fizz and cellar temperature for red. You can stare at your bottles and show them off and drink them in tip-top condition and if I had the money and the space, I’d buy one.

As for the Downing Street version (one temperature; 34 bottles), given the likely quality of the wine and the speed it was being knocked back, why bother with a wine cooler? If the No. 10 cellar is off limits (and there must surely be some tasty treats down there) they should do what everyone else used to do in the relic that is the office: chuck the whites in the communal fridge, keep the reds in the stationery cupboard and get out the plastic cups.