Everyday Drinking_ The Distilled Kingsley Amis - Kingsley Amis [47]
Champagne is only half a drink. The rest is a name on a label, an inflated price tag, a bit of tradition and a good deal of showing off. People probably enjoy it rather less for itself than because they feel it makes the occasion a special one—in other words, the host is spending a lot of money on them. No harm in any of that, and the wise host will play it up for all it’s worth, shouting “Have some champagne” and “Bring more champagne” whenever he thinks of it.
He will ignore the pundits’ killjoy advice to open the bottles silently and will let them pop as loudly as possible. The pundits also frown on the usual champagne glass with the wide bowl, complaining that it disperses the bubbles. Again, the sensible man will take no notice and stick to convention—though he will make as sure as he can that whatever glasses are used shall be absolutely clean, above all free from detergent.
The other point about serving is to see that the wine is properly chilled; not less than two hours in the refrigerator is my advice. That should be common knowledge, but the world is full of idiots who buy a bottle at the supermarket, let it kick around half the morning in the boot of the car, open it on arriving home and are amazed when the stuff goes all over the kitchen ceiling.
Now as to buying. The mark-up in restaurants is so ferocious that the fellow who’s doing his own paying will get his champagne across the counter or off the shelf. Anything he comes across that’s called “champagne” on the label will be the genuine article. Famous names like Moët et Chandon, Louis Roederer, Mumm, Bollinger and Krug provide what’s generally agreed to be the best and, of course, it costs extra. Supermarket and off-licence chains supply their own cheaper brands under less familiar names and they are perfectly good.
The essential point is that, thanks to very detailed regulations rigorously enforced by French law, all champagne is a quality product. This being so, the more expensive brands are best reserved for show-off occasions. The principle applies doubly to vintage champagne. It’s a blend of the wines of a single outstanding year, whereas most champagne is a blend of wines of different years, and is priced accordingly. Can safely be left to connoisseurs and conspicuous consumers.
Champagne is said to go with any food and one can theoretically drink it right through a meal, though I’ve never known of anybody actually doing that. In practice it’s supposed to be a splendid accompaniment to a cold summery lunch of smoked salmon and strawberries. Best of all on its own, I have heard its admirers say, about 11:30 a.m., with a dry biscuit. Which leaves plenty of time to sneak out to the bar for a real drink.
There is no better short drink in the world than malt whisky. Only the finest French brandy, a cognac or an Armagnac, could surpass it. As far as I know, no formal comparison or competition has ever been undertaken, but from my experience, and to my taste, the malt is the winner.
Historically, malt is the original Scotch whisky, made, indeed, from malted barley in the old pot still by a slow, cumbersome, expensive process that has not fundamentally changed for over four hundred years. Most of it goes for blending with what the new (nineteenth-century) patent still produces from a mixture of unmalted grains in a much faster, cheaper operation. The resulting blends comprise the Scotch we see around us all the time in shops and pubs—Long John, Haig, Teacher’s, Bell’s, Cutty Sark and about three thousand others.
They are all well enough, but they are not in the same league as the small proportion of malt whisky that does not go for blending and is matured