Us Brits like to talk about the weather. You can't blame us at the moment as the promised golden riches of a hot summer have in reality been mostly tropical down pours. Rain drops the size of golf balls are imprisoning us in our homes. Sudden torrents of water coursing down the road, a volley of drums on the roof. All the Met Office can say after promising a 'barbecue summer' is effectively ...err sorry, we got it wrong this year.

You do have to remember that it is not their fault the rain came, although this all knowing department almost likes to give the impression of pulling the invisible strings in the sky. Fancy interactive maps, attractive smooth talking presenters and hi-tech satellites don't seem to improve on the guess work a great deal.

My lawn has gone from a dust bowl to a sort of fluorescent green colour, the broken showers promoting turbo growth and buckets of chlorophyll.

If global warming weather predictions are to be believed (o ye of little faith), then southern England will be more Mediterranean in climate. By 2030 DEFRA thinks that grapes like Pinot Noir will be easily cultivated in the UK. So if I had the cash then maybe I should splash out on a Saab 900 convertible and a nice south facing cote (slope) that may well produce a good crop of Pinot in twenty or so years time.

I have some time off work, and being stuck indoors brings its own amount of lethargy and lack of concentration, made very clear today when I started cleaning the sideboard with Windolene. So to pass the time I am drawn to deciphering a bottle of 'bored-eaux' a friend kindly gave me recently, lest I try and clean the bath with toothpaste (although that would kind if make sense if it was enamel).

My Bordeaux (aka Claret) is lesson in understated elegance with its distinctive high shoulders and subtle label. It is a mysterious guest. I thanked my friend knowingly, but the truth of the matter is that I actually normally look at clarets with trepidation as the complex scribbles and markings are tricky to understand fully.

Lets try, and start at the top.

There is a round green seal with DGDDI. This means that French taxes have been paid and the wine can be sold in (and therefore probably has been bought in) France, it is from a named origin and of higher quality. Moving down and there seems to be a metal rather than plastic foil covering the cork. This imparts a level of quality to me about the packaging. Cutting it off is altogether more satisfying.

Taking the armour from a knight not the shell suit from a layabout.

The wording on the foil is 'Bordeaux' and the makers name ' Jean-Louis Trocard'. According to this article -


'The Trocards...produce some 800,000 bottles from ten Libournais properties'

The Libournais region includes Saint-Emilion and Pomerol (famous for Chateau Petrus). These sub-regions are named on the back label of the bottle in French as the grape vine souce areas.

Sliding down those bold shoulders we can first see that the wine is as expected red, sloshing around the glass gap to the main label. Bordeaux is famous for its reds and they can be a blend of any of the following - Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Malbec and Petit Verdot. No specific grape information is forthcoming on the label which is normal.

Next there is an elegant picture of some wrought iron gates, and below that the words 'Chateau Trocard'. Chateau translates as a castle or manor house. Immediately the picture and title of the wine conjures up images of a grand French building much like Cinderella's castle. But in wine making terms chateau means an estate or vineyard. Dispel your fairy tale illusions of grandeur as there could just be could be just an old farm on the estate, nothing more.

Below that is written the vintage (grapes grown and harvested in a particular year) of 2003. Here is where the weather plays a major role, and dictates the character of the wine. Good years can fetch high prices. 2005 is meant to be the most recent sought after vintage.

Unlike 2009 where is looks like low yields from Bordeaux due to hail storms destroying some of the crop (bet the weather forecasts missed that one too, although knowing would not have softened the blow) , 2003 was a heatwave in Europe. The vintage was particularly tannic with high alcohol levels partly as a result of the roasted thick skinned berries . This tells me that maybe the contents will be a tad more bitter than normal, and maybe age even better.

Moving down still further 'Bordeaux Superieur' is emblazoned across the label above 'Appellation Bordeaux Superieur Controlee' in small italics. This means that the vines are selected in the 'general' Bordeaux region (Bordeaux is like a large complex jigsaw puzzle, each piece a wine making geographical area with its own characteristics) and tend to be older, higher quality and age well for longer than basic Bordeaux AOC wines. This ties in with the text on the back label describing the source sub-regions.

The second section of the front label states 'mis en bouteille au chateau' (bottled on the very same estate) and the makers name and address. It is 12.5% by vol and 750ml.
The back label also states that it is best drunk between four and five years old (my schoolboy French helping me out again) so I had best open it fairly soon.


I have only scraped the surface of the information this bottle is silently trying to impart, you can go into far more detail. For example reams have been written about the 2003 vintage and the effects of the climate on the wine.

I find tannic clarets are good with a meaty dinner, so I will roast a lamb and report back.

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