Matt Sloane is the new Sommelier at the London Carriage Works restaurant, Hope street, Liverpool _158
THE sun is shining. Unbelievable; I have barely managed to recover from some serious winter debauchery and I'm having to deal with outrageous bank holiday madness. It is a tough and thankless task that I have undertaken this year, venturing into previously uncharted territories in search of the most splendid plonk known to mankind.
My voyage of discovery has taken me and my hangover far and wide, so it is with a slight sigh of relief that I have decided to veer slightly off course and visit a couple of old faithfuls.
My first port of call is an often misunderstood grape that, unfortunately, is responsible for some terribly insipid party garglers that shouldn't be within a million light years of any decent vintner.
A gang of Californian nutjobs have, over the years, grossly over- planted the mighty Zinfandel grape, capable of seriously belting red swag, and have been peddling it off as nasty pink gear for a few too many years.
When bad, Zinny can taste more like bubble gum than anything resembling wine, and will often be seen in those industry-threatening “three for a tenner'” fiascos.
A good winemaker with a decent heart can fashion tremendously spicy, fruity, hearty stuff from this juicy fella, known as Primitivo in mad old Italy. Look out for “old vine” on your prospective bottle of dinner lubricant; old vines have worked hard to get their roots deep into the ground and will yield smaller quantities of highly flavoured grapes.
Mancunian crackpot, James McGrory, has a very tidy example of what could well be my favourite grape – Clos Du Val Zinfandel is available at his suave wine temple, Vinea, down on Albert Dock.
Good Zinfandel works well with a leg of lamb, boned, plastered with garlic and rosemary, and slapped on a proper barbecue.
Moving from the Californian sunshine to the blistering heat of South Africa, my next tipple tip is a grape born from an unholy union of Pinot Noir and Cinsault. Pinotage is the result of some serious plant bothering and can be a cracking alternative if one is feeling a bit dangerous.
Pinotage definitely falls into a “you get what you pay for” category. The good stuff can often have a smoky, leathery smell and will possibly blow your legs off when swigged. Get yourself to a respectable wine boffin and ask for his best Pinotage, stroll down to a smart butcher and ask him to cut a couple of thick fillet steaks. Get the steaks in some oil and pepper and leave them to chill out for a few hours.