Wednesday 27 March 2019

Morrisons wine: it isn't all complete pish

It’s got a bit of a sketchy rep has Morrison’s. Always the theta supermarket to Waitrose’s alpha and Tesco’s beta, always finishing last in the food supplements’ product comparisons; on top of which it insists on hiring cack ‘celebrities’ to promote its brand: Richard Hammond, Alan Hansen – it’s as if they want to fail.

Then there’s the stores themselves. Sometimes you’ll find a nice one. The one in Letchworth is verging on posh, but my local one in Stamford Hill, north London, could on certain days be mistaken for a medieval cattle auction.

In spite of all of this, I like Morrisons. It’s relatively cheap, and when I moved to where I live now I would regularly buy wine there. It was, occasionally, quite good – I liked the mid-range pinot noir particularly – but more often than not what you would expect: tedious, middle-of-the-road, Richard Hammond sorts of wine.

Now, along with every other British supermarket, Morrisons has realised that the average wine drinker is becoming more savvy and demanding, and that it has to up its game. Even the casual guzzler of Saturday night plonk in front of the telly is growing weary of that flabby fruit-bomb Jacob’s Creek. He/she (for they are a hermaphrodite) wants something new, intriguing, pizzazzy.

So when the invitation to the tasting for the Morrisons wine range relaunch dropped in my inbox, rather than guffaw loudly and expedite it to my trash, I said I’d be happy to attend and duly paid a visit.

The verdict? Well, the wine bods at Waitrose are hardly going to be soiling themselves, but there are definitely decent everyday-drinking bottles to be found among the 148-bottle range (three-quarters of which are totally new).

What’s also good is that they’ve made it super-easy for uninitiated wine drinkers to work out what they like – by introducing fool-proof labelling, QR codes and a very simple three-question Taste Test to help define which wine they might prefer (at the moment you can use it online at, but it should be in selected stores in the near future). I tried the Taste Test and it was pretty accurate, actually. 

So, if you’re going to Morrisons, my guidance, based on an heroic tasting of most of the 148 bottles in the range, is as follows:

1) Avoid the entry-level stuff, the bottles for less than a fiver: yes, it’s inoffensive but there really is nothing to it. Buy it if you need a bottle to cook with.

2) Avoid the champagne. It tastes overwhelmingly of under-ripe rhubarb and is guaranteed to dampen the celebration you bought it for.

3) Similarly, if Rioja or Pouilly Fumé are to your taste, you’ll find far better ones elsewhere. (I’ve had just about as much nauseatingly oaky corner shop-quality Rioja as I can drink.)

With those negatives out of the way, here are my top five highlight of the Morrison’s Signature wine range (the level up from basic): all under a tenner and won’t let you down when the big M is your best booze option.

1: Morrisons Signature Saint Véran (£8.99)
100% Burgundian chardonnay aged on the lees. Clean, citrusy, with a hint of richness. Will make any white fish and buttery sauce combo literally sing. Well, literally as in not really...   

2: Morrisons Signature Chablis (£9.99)
It’s nice to check in with a cool, sharp Chablis every now and again, and this perfectly palatable one will save you a couple of quid. 

3: Morrisons Signature Barbera d'Asti (£7.99)
100% barbera – perfect for those vegetative nights in with a pizza, a jazz woodbine and exquisitely shit TV (eg, Surprise, Surprise).

4: Morrisons Signature AOC Pic St Loup (£8.99)
A mildly spicy syrah/grenache blend from one of the Languedoc’s top AOCs. I’m biased towards the Languedoc because I 'did' a harvest there and once cycled down the Canal du Midi, but for value this is my pick of the bunch.

5: Morrisons Signature Carmenère (£7.99)
A wild yeast-fermented wine in Morrisons. How about that? Full of warm, dark-fruit  flavour to get you through a pointlessly cold and dark winter’s eve. 

Now fuck off.
Snow Day 2010 was, every Londoner agrees, was the most momentous event in human history. I met this girl, who seemed to like me, and drank so many vodka martinis that friends later said at one point I was dribbling. At the end of the set off home without my shoes. In the snow. The girl still agreed to see me after. She had nice curly hair and a satiny deep voice caused, I learned in the course of our pissed-up chatter, by polyps on her throat. She had inelegant long hands, which, at the silly novelty restaurant I'd suggested we meet at for a 'date' (we ate inside a hollowed-out gold papier-maché egg) I felt compelled to fondle.  It was probably seen as prematurely intimate. We didn't see each other again.

The sky is an indigo dome.
The bare trees locked in stasis.
It will snow soon.
What's happening is that a warm front is moving east from the Atlantic and meeting a cold front moving in from Siberia.
Precipitation is inevitable.

I just saw a fox.
Just mosied down the pavement, brazen as you like.
Electric lights are glowing in the city streets, amber beacons, reassuring, like the 'on duty' lights on taxis.
No one walks though.
Just this fox, brazen a you like.