Is This Bottle Corked__ The Secret Life of Wine - Kathleen Burk [57]
During dinner the Master of the Lodge MAY “Take Wine” in the English manner with various brothers. This action will be announced, and presided over by the Worshipful Brother who is serving as “Toast Master” or “Master of Ceremonies” at Table Proceedings. The announcement of wine-taking is made by the “Toast Master” in a single sentence, i.e.: “Brethren, the W.M. will take wine with his Wardens.” Whereupon, the Master and the Brother(s) designated for the honor rise and the Master may make remarks recognizing the honoree(s), who then salute one another with their glasses and drink, then resume their seats. The Master may call on one of the honorees for his comments.
ONLY THOSE WHO ARE CALLED TO TAKE WINE WILL STAND. THE REMAINDER OF THE COMPANY WILL REMAIN SEATED.
If the Toastmaster or the Master calls for the Brethren to take wine with a particular guest or other Companion, then ALL STAND. It is considered polite for short applause after each wine-taking.
Only a churl could take exception to this process, although it does seem a little elaborate. But the odd thing to an English eye is the phrase “in the English manner.” We have indeed seen this done at formal English dinners, though only seldom, and the usual comment is that this must be an American custom that has found its way across the Atlantic, the Americans being less reticent about declarations of brotherhood (or sisterhood) than the British.
Whatever the case, we are glad to see it, and will happily “take wine” with anyone who cares to suggest it.
Is wine becoming more alcoholic?
WINE IS DEFINITELY more alcoholic than it used to be. The tendency toward a higher level of alcohol began with Californian, Australian, and other New World reds. In the introduction to his Pocket Wine Book 2008, Oz Clarke complains of winemakers “following the False High Priest of superripeness”—could this possibly be Robert Parker? —and producing the consequent high alcohol levels. Even France has succumbed, he says. Red Bordeaux used to be 11.5 to 12.5 percent alcohol, and now there are wines over 14.5 percent alcohol. Too much alcohol for a particular wine style spoils the taste and makes it hard to enjoy more than a glass.
The British government is becoming concerned about problem drinking in the middle classes. They are increasing their alcohol intake, which, given the increasingly high levels of alcohol, rises even if the volume of wine they consume does not increase. In a rather obscure effort to deal with this, London is urging the EU to make it easier to sell wines with an alcohol level as low as 6.5 percent. Ridiculously, the British Food Standards Agency has in recent years had to impound low-alcohol wines in order to comply with EU rules.
If you don’t want to wait for the EU regulations to be changed, try some older German rieslings, which should be well below 10 percent alcohol.
What was all that about Mateus Rosé?
HOW IS IT that some wines simply sum up a specific period? For 1960s Britain, it was probably Blue Nun Liebfraumilch or perhaps Bull’s Blood. For America in the same period, Thunderbird and Lancers spring to mind. In the 1970s, after a heated race between them, Mateus Rosé won the day. The very name, to those who were alive then, conjures up images of the inevitable steakhouse—in all probability, Britain’s long-gone Berni Inns chain—with shrimp cocktail to start, then a rump steak with “all the trimmings” (an entirely flavorless tomato, half a dozen pallid button mushrooms fresh from the can, and rehydrated dehydrated catering “peas”), concluding with Black Forest Gâteau and a “specialty coffee,” usually called “Irish,” which meant the sort of coffee that today would make even a trainee barista faint with horror, laced with whisky, and topped with a strange, slimy layer of floating cream. All “washed down”—that was the phrase they used—with a bottle of Mateus Rosé.
It was a masterpiece of wine branding: the characteristic squat bottle, the picture of