The Lady Guide to Modern Manners: 20 September

Notes of bracken and carburettor, or simply corked? Thomas Blaikie on how to deal with wine bores
Dear Thomas,
If someone says, ‘The Chateau Carrot ’93 is drinking exceptionally well at the moment,’ my heart sinks. I’m no fan of wine connoisseurship – people sitting round saying, ‘I’m getting bracken, then chocolate, with a superb aluminium finish.’ The other day my host poured out the bottle I’d brought to dinner with great flourish. We tried it and found it delicious. Then conversation was interrupted by the host. ‘It’s corked,’ he barked. He referred to his wife, who is considered the ultimate authority in these matters. She confirmed the verdict. My wine was condemned. ‘Hard luck!’ the host tossed in my direction. Wasn’t this rather rude?
Brian Sandford, East Grinstead

Dear Brian,
‘So you’ve eaten bracken?’ might be a good putdown to one vapouring thus about wine. Why do posh grape products have to taste of something else? Nobody would say, ‘Glorious omelette: I’m getting grass, gunmetal and cowhide.’

If your friend is so particular about wine, he should have tasted it in the kitchen before pouring it out for everybody else. If there was anything wrong with it, he could have quietly stowed it away in case of an unwelcome morning caller of alcoholic outlook at a later date. Nobody would have noticed.

But really you’re suggesting that there was nothing wrong with your wine. I thought corked wine, like a bad egg, knocked you halfway across the room with its horror. The cork stinks and the wine is either murky or brown. I have my doubts about all this rari­fied sni€ffing and swirling of the glass and going into a trance on the other side of which the wine is mysteriously found to be ‘aw‚ff’. Some of these self-declared wine artists get their comeuppance when the bottle they’ve pronounced corked turns out to be screw-top. Hooray!

Having made the mistake of pouring out the wine before ensuring it was ­ fit to drink, your host might at least have had a quiet word with you ­first before informing the company that it wasn’t right. The trouble is, once doubt has been cast, your o‚ffering would still have ended up down the drain unless you felt very robust and chose to argue.

I don’t want to give the impression that I’m against any kind of selectiveness about wine. Viniculture is an ancient craft and much can be learnt about it, I’m sure. Maybe you could do a day course on how to tell if wine is corked – then you could ­ fight back. In the meantime, take a box of Milk Tray when you next visit those friends.

Please send your questions to Thomas.blaikie@lady.co.uk or write to him at: The Lady, 39-40 Bedford Street, London WC2E 9ER

WHAT TO DO… ABOUT EATING ABROAD

A few weeks ago we were asking: ‘Are the British the worst tourists?’ Now the Foreign Office has issued a warning to travellers: beware the ‘strange’ customs of foreigners. In Nigeria you may not carry mineral water into the country. If you feed the pigeons in Venice you’ll be fined. Eating or drinking near churches or other public buildings in Florence might also result in sudden, unexpected euro-off - load, if not relocation to a dungeon.

Apparently many British have suffered for their innocence or ignorance. But are these restrictions so strange? I know of few planning a minibreak in Nigeria so the animus against mineral water need not trouble us. On the other hand, who’d dream of feeding filthy pigeons in Venice or have anything to feed them with? Everybody knows how pigeon droppings erode ancient buildings. As for slouching outside ancient monuments in Florence munching a bap – no, no, no. I’m all for immediate clamping in irons. In civilised countries you eat at a table, sitting on a chair – and don’t leave litter.