Pickwick

At this time of year my thoughts turn to opening a bottle of something sweet. The approach of Christmas turns me into Mr. Pickwick.

Christmases were chillier in those days, as this excerpt from The Pickwick Papers describes:

‘Well, Sam,’ said Mr. Pickwick, as that favoured servitor entered his bed-chamber, with his warm water, on the morning of Christmas Day, ‘still frosty?’
‘Water in the wash-hand basin’s a mask o’ ice, Sir,’ responded Sam.
‘Severe weather, Sam,’ observed Mr. Pickwick.
‘Fine time for them as is well wropped up, as the Polar bear said to himself, ven he was practising his skating,’ replied Mr. Weller.
‘I shall be down in a quarter of an hour, Sam,’ said Mr. Pickwick, untying his nightcap.
‘Wery good, sir,’ replied Sam. ‘There’s a couple o’ sawbones downstairs.’
‘A couple of what!’ exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, sitting up in bed.
‘A couple o’ sawbones,’ said Sam.
‘What’s a sawbones?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick, not quite certain whether it was a live animal, or something to eat.
‘What! Don’t you know what a sawbones is, sir?’ inquired Mr. Weller. ‘I thought everybody know’d as a sawbones was a surgeon.’
‘Oh, a surgeon, eh?’ said Mr. Pickwick, with a smile.
‘Just that, sir,’ replied Sam. ‘These here ones as is below, though, ain’t reg’lar thoroughbred sawbones; they’re only in trainin’.’ ‘In other words they’re medical students, I suppose?’ said Mr. Pickwick.
Sam Weller nodded assent.
‘I am glad of it,’ said Mr. Pickwick, casting his nightcap energetically on the counterpane. ‘They are fine fellows — very fine fellows; with judgments matured by observation and reflection; and tastes refined by reading and study. I am very glad of it.’
‘They’re a-smokin’ cigars by the kitchen fire,’ said Sam.
‘Ah!’ observed Mr. Pickwick, rubbing his hands, ‘overflowing with kindly feelings and animal spirits. Just what I like to see.’ ‘And one on ’em,’ said Sam, not noticing his master’s interruption, ‘one on ’em’s got his legs on the table, and is a-drinking brandy neat, vile the t’other one — him in the barnacles — has got a barrel o’ oysters atween his knees, which he’s a-openin’ like steam, and as fast as he eats ’em, he takes a aim vith the shells at young dropsy, who’s a sittin’ down fast asleep, in the chimbley corner.’
‘Eccentricities of genius, Sam,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘You may retire.’

Where were we? Yes, looking for something to drink that will be festive and affordable. Hasten to Tesco and Morrisons or their websites. The former will part with a bottle of their finest Vintage Port for £16. This delicious concoction has been waiting to be opened since 1997 and is made with grapes from the Symington Family Estates. It blushes to have to wear a Tesco label but recovers wonderfully when decanted. (I was given a fine decanter as a 60th birthday present and I am obliged to friends in Cambridgeshire for pointing me towards this Tesco bargain.) You could not buy a 1997 port from a well known house for much less than £50.

Now dash along to Morrisons for another bargain which Jancis Robinson spotted, although she is more of a Waitrose girl. They are selling, for a mere £6, half bottles of Dry Oloroso.

I’ll let Morrisons tell you about this cheeky little charmer :

“Bursting with toffee and hazelnut flavour, this dry mahogany-coloured sherry is a treat for your tastebuds. Aged in the Lustau bodegas of Jerez in American oak casks, it moves slowly through the solera system to create a distinctive, rich sherry that’s truly one to savour.
Dark, smoky sherry, aged in American oak casks for a deep, rich taste.”

I lost a bit as a Morrisons shareholder and no wonder when they are letting their discerning customers have this sort of stuff for only a little more than a pint of beer in the City.