No Fumé Without Fire

I AM FAST TIRING of panting, wailing, cash-cow toddler, Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc. In my experience most depictions are far from delivering what Oz Clarke once described as 'arguably the best ...[SB]... in the world'. Nor is it, in my opinion, metaphorically commensurate to 'having sex for the first time' [George Taber] when first encountered. 'Cat’s pee on a gooseberry bush' [Jancis Robinson] is a more appropriate cliché.

Extravagant, searing acidity and blubbering fruit cordial doused over confected fruit salad.

To many, this overly-extracted, sickly 'drink' has become the nursery slopes of wine even though New Zealand has so much to offer apart from this cool-Brittania Liebfraumilch!

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Oregon winery, Sokol Blosser's Evolution NV saucily packaged cascade of nine grapes is more pleasantly provocative... [£11.99, Bedales]

An American outlaw of nine grapes (Riesling, Pinot Gris, Muller Thurgau, Semillon, Gewurtztraminer, Muscat, Pinot Blanc, Sylvaner and Chardonnay), it has a limey Clare Valley Riesling nose (although sweeter) with a full, initially at war, somewhat calcerous, glycerous palate brimming with sherbet lemon balls, barley (briefly), citronella oil mosquito repellent, squeezy honey and peach.

Not meaningful, but enjoyable nonetheless and more exciting than their rigamortose Pinot Noir [CLICK, then scroll for review].

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Tony, Manager of The Rake, matchless Borough Market micro-pub, informs me that the market cat has been sighted. Or rather heard. This dauntless feline can fast clear a large area with its excruciating bawl. Stallholders tolerate it, however: it is a peerless preyer. One even fitted it a collar to prevent it being picked up as a stray.