At a recent travel media event in Chester I ran into old acquaintances from the Tunisian National Tourism Office. I couldn’t resist quizzing acting director Fakhri Khalsi about Harissa. This fiery chilli paste is a staple presence across the cuisines of North Africa; is Tunisia truly its epicentre? The answer was yes but it’s hard to replicate the ones made in home kitchens there; so many commercial jars you’ll find in the UK are travesties of the real thing.
Disconcerted, I told Fakhri I’d sourced one version (from Isca cafe/deli/natural wine store in Levenshulme) that seemed the real deal. “Unlikely, he replied then… “Well, there is Lamiri, which is imported from Tunisia – it is authentic”. That’s the one. Crafted from smoked baklouti chillies, dried in tradiitonal log ovens, the jar proclaiming “no added rose petals, xanthum gum or other nonsense ingredients… good enough for Grandma’s couscous”.
15 bold ways to spice up your kitchen lifeGurdeep Loyal back with a bang
That enlightened purchase left me ready for the arrival of Gurdeep Loyal’s cookbook Flavour Heroes (Quadrille £27), sequel to Mother Tongue, arguably my favourite food tome of 2023. It is constructed around “15 modern pantry ingredients to amplify your cooking”. These are in order: harissa, pecorino Romano, gochujang, Thai green paste, yuzu koshō, tamarind, mango chutney, chipotle paste, toasted sesame oil, miso, ‘nduja, Calabrian chilli paste, dark roasted peanut butter, instant espresso powder, dark maple syrup and, front of the queue, you guessed it, harissa.
It’s hard to review/road test a book when you are finding it hard to get past cooking every dish in the first chapter. In the process nearly emptying that precious jar of Lamiri. This weekend we dined royally off Harissa and Pink Peppercorn Fish Fingers with Dill Pickle Tartare and Herby Harissa Shawarma with Shallot Raita (plus a mighty fennel pickle of my own). The former were a notch up on Nigella’s celebrated version, the smokey chicken skewers a whoosh of coriander, mint and dill overload.
It more than lives up to the Mother Tongue manifesto: “Food is a living form of culture that evolves: its boundaries are fluid, blurred, porous and dynamic… authenticity is an unending reel of culinary snapshots, an evolving spectrum that captures many transformative moments along flavourful journeys in generations of kitchens.”
But in a recent podcast interview the 40-year-old second generation gay British Punjabi from Leicester confessed the follow-up was a more personal mission statement. More relaxed. Boundaries already pushed. Plural identities reflected and then resolved in an eclectic pantry, out of which he conjures up a parade of glorious dishes.
Out of reviewing Mother Tongue I unravelled a welter of ‘Second Generation’ Asian food strands. Check out the link. Gurdeep remains my go-to fashioner of extraordinary cross-cultural flavours. My personal fusion contribution in the main image? Pairing the shawarma with risotto primavera packed with broad beans and peas from our garden.
Korean buttermilk chicken Fennel sausage pacchieri
UPDATE ON A REVIEW IN PROGRESS
OK, I skipped Pecorino and cooked a couple of recipes from ‘Gochujang’. Mainly because, like so many fellow foodies, I have a tub of this gloopy Korean chilli paste nearing its eat by date in the back of the fridge. Plus I also had some buttermilk left over from making soda bread, perfect for fashioning ‘Bonfire-Buttermilk Korean Fried Chicken’, where smoked salt helps recreate a barbecue vibe. Brown sugar, mustard, soy, ginger, ketchup and, of course, gochujang make for a tangy sauce. Topped with a garlicky pangrattato.
The second dish, ‘Fennel Sausage, Gochujang and Vodka Pacchieri’ is even punchier. I share Gurdeep’s passion for fennel, so into the ragu of crumbled fennel sausage and tomato I sprinkled not just crushed seeds but also fennel pollen. Soured cream tempered the two hefty tablespoons of gochujang; tenderstem broccoli added crunch greenery. When I make this glorious dish again I shall default to rigatoni. Pacchieri is a bruiser of a pasta. Next up, watch this space, to showcase Ingredient No 9 Toasted Sesame Oil – ‘Sesame Prawn Tostados with Charred Corn’.
https://i0.wp.com/www.neilsowerby.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/Harissa-chicken-skewer.jpeg?fit=2016%2C1512&ssl=115122016Neil Sowerbyhttps://www.neilsowerby.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/NS-typemark-v1c.pngNeil Sowerby2025-07-21 13:38:512025-08-21 15:59:24Harissa stains on my pristine new tome? Blame the genius of Gurdeep Loyal
As a hardened traveller there’s nothing I like better than a detour. On a recent road trip around West Cork I couldn’t resist motoring a few miles off-piste to check out eerie Coppinger Court, a ruin almost since it was built in Tudor times. Let’s call such a diversion ‘The Single Track Road Quest of the Tractor Perilous’.
Down in Herefordshire the roads to the (unruined) St John at Shobdon were an easier prospect. Six miles north west of Leominster we turned left at at sleepy Mortimer’s Cross, in 1491 site of a particularly bloody Roses battle, won by the Yorkists. Quite soon we were driving down an avenue of limes to what from the outside looked the plainest of country churches.
Rococo bling of St John’s ShobdonBlack and white frontage of the Riverside
Inside, though, you’ll discover England’s most complete rococo ecclesiastical experience, fashioned by one of the architects of Horace Walpole’s Strawberry Hill around 1800. White wedding cake meets Countess’s boudoir. Simon Jenkins in his England’s 1,000 Best Churches gives it 4 stars. We loved it, too.
But not as much as we loved our evening’s destination, The Riverside, 15 miles up the Lugg valley at Aymestrey. It’s a 16th century sheep drovers’ inn set in a river loop, its hillside veg terraces steepling into wooded hills, for all the world like some English equivalent of the Dordogne. And the food self-taught chef/patron Andy Link is turning out is deeply rooted in his own Herefordshire terroir.
We dined on local snails, faggots, rare breed Hereford beef, a sweet cicely parfait, finishing with nettle cake with lemon and thyme syrup, matched with ice cider. All this and it still felt like a proper pub where you could prop up the bar with a pint of Wye Valley Brewery’s Butty Bach.
You can understand how in 2002 it was voted Great British Pub Awards ‘Best Sustainable Pub’. Andy took us up to their organic growing plots, hewn out of the hillside during lockdown by himself and manager George Parkes. Between here and the half-timbered pub proper is the row of three quirky timber lodges, in one of which, Beechenbrook, we stayed, relishing the combination of under-stated luxury, such as underfloor heating, and rustic seclusion.
The main buildings house further, more traditional (and dog-friendly) bedrooms. The bar areas are solidly cosy with garlands of hops and a wood-burner. There’s a wealth of walks all around. We chose along the river, promised the possibility of otters and kingfishers. Alas, no sightings. As a base the location is brilliant, foodie Ludlow 10miles to the north, Hereford 20 miles to the south … and a wealth of traditional cider producers to visit.
The apple of our eye in the midst of the Mappa Mundi
It seems fitting to begin our Cider Pilgrimage in the heart of Hereford Cathedral. Let’s call it a windfall moment as we strain to decipher a medieval Christian world view drawn across a stretched sheet of calf skin… and discover apples. So apt in a county of orchards.
The Mappa MundiThe Gangenes Tree
This is the Mappa Mundi, created around 1300 by one Richard Oldingham. It is the only complete world map of its time to have survived and its 1.59 x 1.34m canvas is teeming with illustrated wonders representing geography and history, hell, heaven and the path to salvation. Quite disorienting. Nothing is in our ‘right’ order. Jerusalem is at the centre, the British Isles in the bottom left hand corner and at the top is the East – home to Eden and expected site of Christ’s second coming. Hereabouts, in ‘India’, are sketched two robed figures attending to an apple tree, one shaking a bough with a stick, the other sniffing and gathering fruit. Are they harvesting?
These are the Gangenes, described on the Mappa as a people who lived near the River Ganges and survived only on the scent of apples. Indeed, so the myth goes, should they smell anything offensive they immediately perish. Would that include Strongbow, one of those commercial ciders that have devalued a great traditional tipple?
A traditional orchard. Image: Fred Friggens
In search of cider with the artisan masters
We are in Herefordshire in search of the real deal. If the immaculately mounted Mappa Mundi takes our breath away, so too do the remarkable craft ciders and perries we encounter in their heartland. Sorry, Somerset.
The likes of Oliver’s, Littler Pomona, Ross-on-Wye, Gregg’s Pit, Artistraw and Newton Court are all small producer standard bearers, well worth a visit. There’s a true local pride in their achievements. The tourist board even promote Herefordshire Cider Circuits, recommending orchards along three cycling routes. Our visits are by car and we are circumspect sippers with narrow lanes to negotiate.
Just to stand in an orchard is to feel at one with nature and a unique heritage. All a bit farm gate yet, but cider tourism is taking off. Ross have their own on-site pub, the Yew Tree, while Newton Court have launched a purpose-built visitor centre, featuring a restaurant, cafe, farm shop and tour hub. This bright, airy space is a major investment for the Stephens family, who have run this 157 acre regenerative farm since 1991. I’d recommend ordering the locally sourced pork, apple and leek pie and sharing a bottle of Panting Partridge, their flagship perry (aka ‘pear cider’), or their acclaimed sparkling cider, Black Mountain.
After which joining one of their cider tours might be hard to resist. We wandered into the organic orchards with Paul Stephens, who took over the day-to-day running of Newton Court from his father Tom. Sheep graze among the pear trees, while he tells us of the impact on perry’s taste of terroir and individual pear varieties – with delightful names such as Flakey Bark, Betty Prosser, Hendre Huffcap, Butt and Thorn. He also raises the perils of fireblight, a bacteria that can wipe out trees that have taken decades to mature. Sudden attacks, no known protection.
Tom Oliver imparts his apple-driven wisdomPomona’s tasting room with a view
The same grim prognosis is repeated seven miles away at Oliver’s Cider and Perry, near the delightfully bucolic sounding hamlet of Ocle Pychard. Here we are granted an audience with ‘cider royalty’ Tom Oliver, not that you’d guess his global renown from the rustic surroundings and his understated manner. This man is a legend across the United States. Not in his long-running role as tour manager/sound engineer for The Proclaimers but as an ambassador for cider and perry, a mentor for so many aspiring cider makers. Nearing retirement age, he shows no sign of slowing down.
His is a working farm, the shop only open for three hours on Saturdays, but what a wealth of options to buy. Inside the former hop barn that is now his barrel store he treats us to one of his treasures. 20 years ago a single Coppy pear tree remained on the planet, tracked down in a remote spot by Oliver. Grafts have created young siblings but they are under threatened from the dreaded fireblight. So when we taste a work in progress sample of single varietal Coppy, a sherberty work in progress, from the ancient tree that produced barely half a barrel last harvest, we are tapping into something fragile and magical.
Another amazing cider destination In the rolling hills beyond Bromsyard is cutting edge Little Pomona. It was set up by James Forbes and his wife Susanna, who sadly died last September after a long cancer battle.
Hops, cherries and quince are all incorporated into ciders that push the boundaries. If you’re biking or ensuring you drive responsibly try their Hard Rain Hot Pink. Just 3.4ABV, it’s a ciderkin, made from the second pressing of apples with the addition of water, hops and blackcurrant. Check ahead for opening times.
The Herefordshire PomonaThe Cathedral’s Chained Library
Hereford Cathedral – an intimate voyage of discovery
Pomona was the Roman goddess of fruitful abundance, with gardens and orchards in her remit. The 18th century diarist and gardener John Evelyn published an appendix to his great book on trees under that name – “concerning fruit-trees in relation to cider the making and several ways of ordering it.” 150 years later The Herefordshire Pomona was one of the first attempts to fully catalogue the existing varieties of English fruit. Many of the apples and pears illustrated can be found precariously today.
There’s a rare copy in the Chained Library of Hereford Cathedral, the largest such library left in the world, containing some 1,500 books, dating from around the year 800 to the early 19th century, including 227 medieval manuscripts. In the early 17th century, when the bookcases you see today were made, chained libraries were commonplace, protecting the precious word. It is a fitting lead-up to the Mappa Mundi (adults £7.50) in its special annexe, but the surprisingly intimate Cathedral is packed with other delights.
A more whimsical fixture is the ‘extra leg’ of the 14th century knight Sir Richard Pembridge (died 1375), a veteran of the battles of Crecy and Poitiers. When his alabaster tomb was constructed, the effigy correctly showed him wearing the Garter insignia only on his left leg. The right leg was damaged during the Civil War. A replacement wooden leg wrongly included a garter, so a new alabaster leg, without a garter, was commissioned in the 19th century. The wooden leg has since been reunited with his tomb thanks to a benefactor.
Downtown– what lies beyond the Mappa Mundi?
IF you can’t get out to the orchard hinterland there are great places in Hereford city to sample. Our favourite is undoubtedly The Hereford Beer House. We went in search of a West Coast IPA but there was a choice of four ciders in tap, including Oliver and Little Pomona, and a general feel of cider country bonhomie.
You can buy a goodly selection of bottles to take away at the Museum of Cider, just across the river in Pomona Place (what else?). A Trust took over the former Bulmer’s cider factory and it opened in 1981. The family portraits remain in the old boardroom but it’s the ‘champagne’ cellars dating back to 1889 that evoke the legacy. Descend and you’ll find the racks where employees turned the heavy bottles of sparkling cider – what the French call degorgement.
The Museum’s beam pressSmocks were essential orchard wear
On the main floor you can trace the worldwide history of cider. There’s a 300-year-old French Beam Press and a collection of watercolours depicting the different types of apples and pears, but the star attraction is a rare collection of English lead crystal cider glasses dating from 1730, when cider went head to head with wine as the toffs’ drink of choice.
An inspiration for Elgar’s Enigma Variations
The celebrated composer Sir Edward Elgar lived in Hereford between1904 and 1911 and there’s a statue of him and his bicycle in the Cathedral Close. If you cross the River Wye from here you’ll encounter another, tinier statue with the Cathedral as a backdrop. It’s of Dan, a bulldog belonging to its organist, a friend of Elgar’s. The story goes that they were walking along the riverbank one day when the dog fell in down the steep bank.
He paddled to a place where he could pull himself out, and shook himself vigorously. “I bet you can’t make a tune out of that!” was the organist’s challenge. Elgar took it up and the melody he wrote became part of the Enigma Variations. Let’s call it a Soggy Dog Story.
It’s all down in black and white
There’s wooden heritage aplenty in the rolling countryside of Herefordshire, notably in the timber-framed ‘Black and White Villages’. Devotees can even indulge in a 40 mile circular trail (above), kicking off in Leominster, an ancient market town whose Priory Church of St Peter and St Paul is another four star for Simon Jenkins. The edifice with its imposing Norman tower is actually the remains of a monastic settlement set on the edge of town. Don’t miss one oddball object in the north aisle – the last ducking stool to be used in England. In 1809 Jenny Pipes was ducked in the local River Lugg. Alas, her crime remains a mystery.
The Priory Church is spectacularThat mysterious ducking stool
Fact file
Neil stayed at The Riverside Inn Aymestrey, Herefordshire. HR6 9ST. 01568 708440.
Check with individual cider makers for visiting times. If you want to explore further the delicious world of cider and perry CAMRA have published a brace of books I heartily recommend: Modern British Cider by Gabe ‘The Ciderologist’ Cook (£15.99) and Perry – A Drinker’s Guide by Adam Wells (£17.99).
https://i0.wp.com/www.neilsowerby.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/Hereford-Garden-Riverside.jpg?fit=1500%2C1125&ssl=111251500Neil Sowerbyhttps://www.neilsowerby.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/NS-typemark-v1c.pngNeil Sowerby2025-07-21 11:00:002025-07-21 17:22:28After a heavenly Hereford cider trail a true taste of terroir at The Riverside
Just 100 metres and a whole decade apart – Aumbry and The Pearl. But there’s a palpable bond between them on a balmy night along Bury New Road. For once this week Prestwich is spared the not-so-distant rumble of Oasis in Heaton Park but the rival shishes are sizzling in the Istanbul and Anatolian Grills. This is polyglot dining territory, but there’s a place for a ‘Modern British’ restaurant.
Until 2015 that role was occupied brilliantly by Mary-Ellen McTague’s award-winning Aumbry. After it closed, the site on the corner of Church Lane became burger joint Solita and is now Wallop cafe bar.
Change happens. Back in those days 425 Bury New Road was a computer repair shop. Now it’s a self-styled ‘British Dining Room’ called The Pearl, its dazzling blue exterior punctuated by founder Sam Taylor’s little Florentine peccadillo, a ‘wine serving hatch’. The bijou interior owes more to the classic Parisian bistro.
I’ve been rolling with that French bistro renaissance recently, taking in terroir-driven establishments in Lyon, London’s Bouchon Racine, Camille and Café Francois, Bavette in Horsforth and more recently Chelsea’s Josephine Bouchon, of which more later. There is an Entente Cordiale with Prestwich’s Anglophone heritage going on here, I believe.
George, Matt and Jae at The Pearl
The Pearl – from Arnold Bennett to Matt Bennett
I used to come to The Pearl just to eat chef Ian Thomas’s Omelette Arnold Bennett. Now the kitchen has a new regime featuring three young chefs who’ve all seen service at Manchester’s Michelin-starred Mana. Head chef Matt Bennett looks impossibly young to have also worked at the legendary Gidleigh Park in Devon, but he has.
On Fridays and Saturdays, 5pm-9pm, Matt, George Webber and Jae Haney switch to à la carte. Their new summer menu was the perfect excuse to see if the Pearl remains a jewel. Saturday lunchtime (needs must as a suburban restaurant) the lunch ‘special’ was to be Oasis themed with involving pie specials and a pudding called Cigarettes and Alcohol, consisting of whisky, white chocolate and charcoal ash. On a fashion note, their ‘Yeah, Oui’ limited edition red cap in Isle of Wight red, celebrating the new menu, is preferable in every way to an overpriced bucket hat.
Pip the sustainable showcase for Mary-Ellen?
That band from Burnage came up in conversation two days before in the beyond-quirky environs of the Treehouse Hotel. This is a thrilling transformation of the brutalist Ramada Renaissance at the Cathedral end of Deansgate. Serendipitously, we were dining in its ground floor Pip restaurant, which is under the stewardship of the aforementioned Mary-Ellen McTague. Like The Pearl and Shaun Moffat’s wonderful Winsome Pip showcases great local suppliers and a very British culinary tradition. Her new hotel home is also committed to championing low-waste cooking.
No, fans up for the BIG GIG weren’t primarily popping in for Mary-Ellen’s deconstructed Lancashire hotpot or the heavenliest of treacle tarts, but as our early evening server reported: `’quite a few will be in later”. A few days earlier Oasis ticket holders were also sighted in Hawksmoor, enjoying the remarkable value three course lunch for £26, which includes rump steak. But then Oasis has long been about the beef between two brothers.
It has taken a while too for Mary-Ellen McTague to find the right stage. I’ve known her since she arrived back in her native North West after working for Heston Blumenthal. While she was still at Ramson’s in Ramsbottom I had the good fortune to dine with her, and get a kitchen tour, back at The Fat Duck. Then came Aumbry and later The Creameries in Chorlton, which heartbreakingly didn’t work out. A constant triumph for her, though, has been Eat Well, which she co-founded with friends Gemma Saunders and Kathleen O’Connor five years ago. It delivers around 2,500 meals a month, made by Manchester’s hospitality community. Meant to be a temporary response to a global pandemic, this fund-raising initiative continues to feed people in need.
Josephine Bouchon – near perfect Lyonnais corner house
Fulham Road Chelsea is hardly synonymous with deprivation. Michelin groupies may associate it with Restaurant Gordon Ramsay, which has held three stars for nearly a quarter of a century and where the Carte Blanche menu will set you back £260. The best of the rest on the scene had seemed to consist of swanky gastropubs. Until Josephine. It’s named after serial star gatherer Claude Bosi’s grandmother and is a slick but sympathetic homage to those bouchons (bistros) originally frequented by Lyon’s silk workers. Today’s real ones don’t offer the heritage glamour of Josephine but Bosi’s incarnation more than matches them, with less heaviness.
After starters of terrine de campagne with cornichons (£17.50) and dorade marinée aux olives and citron (aka sea bream crudo, £15) we had the lapin à la moutarde – (rabbit in mustard and tarragon sauce) to share for £68. Definitely consisting off more than one whole bunny, it could have fed four, all of whom would have been swooning in delight, as we were. A £17.50 chocolate mousse to share, alas, just seemed one gustatory challenge too far. Next time. And surely will be… if we can tear ourselves away from our perennial Racine fetish. I liked the fact that the menu attributed that terrine, the equal of many I’ve had in Lyon, to London charcutier George Jephson. How very French.
The metropolitan bargains to be found here are a ‘Menu de Canut’ featuring simple Lyonnais specialities (£14.50 for two courses, £29.50 for three). There is also a daily changing Plat du Jour for £16.50). Stick to the £28 a bottle house wine and you won’t ‘faire sauter la banque’ as they say in French. In a further homage to the Lyon bouchons they measure that house wine (we had a very acceptable Rhone red) with a ruler to decide how much you pay.
The Pearl is on the cosy sideMatt (in that cap) with Sam
So did The Pearl live up to Josephine’s folksy finesse?
The red wine that accompanied our four à la carte courses in deepest Prestwich hailed from Sicily, but was prime example of local sourcing. Borgoleo is a 14 per cent Syrah produced from the vineyards of Filippo Zito’s family. These days you’ll find the former Midland French sommelier at the Failsworth wine shop/tasting room he runs with his wife Natasha. They provide other wines for The Pearl, but this, his own, is the one to go for, a complex bargain even at £60 a bottle.
It fitted our evening, which featured a large ‘snack’ of glazed lamb ribs with an exquisite red wine jus and a later main of lamb rack and loin, a fine dish but eclipsed by my ex-Dairy sirloin with hen of the woods mushrooms and a beef fat potato terrine. It was sourced inevitably from Littlewoods of Heaton Chapel. Incredible stuff.
I should by then have been ‘steaked out’ after a beef tartare. Despite the presence of lovage and smoked eel this dish was surprising unassertive; the same could not be said of its fellow starter where a slash of black garlic added oomph to a glorious croquette of Bury black pudding with apple compote and nasturtium. Modern British? Yes.
Milk bread is having its moment so no surprise when a few dinky slices of the kitchen’s own arrived with marmite butter; toasted it partnered, the tartare. Perhaps a raft of French toast under a chantilly blanket that came with Prestwich honey and peaches was a carbfest too far. But it was a generous feast.
The Pearl’s chocolate pavé‘Peaches and cream’
Did Pip at the Treehouse climb the heights?
As at The Pearl, I kicked off with oysters – each time a modest trio. In Prestwich they were Scottish Cumbrae with a mignonette dressing and a squirt of Tabasco (£10 for three); at Pip I took the ferment liquor option with my Carlingfords (£4 each). We had considered the affordable four-course ‘Pip Mini Tasting Menu’, available for dinner at £30 a head with a generous optional wine pairing at £20 each, but couldn’t resist the lure of the à la carte, which felt classic McTague.
Each dish is recognisably a model of clarity. Nothing superfluous on the plate, core flavour the foremost consideration. I had wondered if all this might be diluted in the context of running a whole day hotel catering operation (there is a separate team for events).
Not on the evidence of this particular meal, an antidote to ‘fine dining’. Sardines on toast as a starter is almost an act of daring, but it feels just right. Deconstructed Lancashire hotpot sounds a mite Masterchef poncey? None of it. The regional one-pot dish is translated into a huge, beautifully seasoned Barnsley chop on a bed of melting hotpot potatoes, the dish given seasonal vigour by an abundance of minty peas and broad beans. Classic cauliflower cheese went well with this and my open lobster and crab thermidor pie, topped with a lemon hollandaise, its lushness offset by grilled gem lettuce.
Treacle tartFlourless chocolate cake
Among my fondest memories of Aumbry were the puddings and here both a treacle tart, earl grey and bergamot and a flourless chocolate cake with fennel cream were sublime.
Little things linger. So many vapid amuse bouches about. But here we had kicked off with split pea chips with mushroom ketchup. All the ketchups, pickles and ferments are made in-house; it’s symptomatic of what today’s new wave Brit cooks are up to. Who needs an elaborate over-reduced sauce? Not that well-grounded Josephine Bouchon dallies with such Cordon Bleu niceties either.
After three such well pitched meals, what is the French for common ground?
Fact file
While in London to review Josephine Bouchon I stayed at The Z Hotel Leicester Square, 3-5, Charing Cross Rd, London WC2N 4HS, latest site for this stylish but affordable boutique lodging group. You couldn’t be closer to the West End action, yet the 95-room property nestles in a quiet corner beside the National Portrait Gallery. Indeed our extra comfort Club Queen room looked out on the Gallery entrance.
https://i0.wp.com/www.neilsowerby.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/pip-mackerel-main.jpg?fit=2016%2C1512&ssl=115122016Neil Sowerbyhttps://www.neilsowerby.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/NS-typemark-v1c.pngNeil Sowerby2025-07-21 09:47:532025-07-25 10:05:57Pip, Pearl and Josephine – forays into Prestwich, Chelsea and a certain Treehouse
You wait all your days for a debunking of the minerality’ in wine and then two come along. Both books, just published by the Academie du Vin Library, take a genuine tilt at accepted assumptions of terroir.
The subtitle of Taste The Limestone, Smell The Slate by Alex Maltman (£35) is a mite off-putting: “A geologist wanders through the world of wine” Did my favourite wine writer, Andrew Jefford, put me at ease with his summation? ‘“Rocks and soils haunt our thinking about wine. We see links, sniff origins, taste connections, digest differences. Is this cause and effect – or fantasy? Alex Maltman is ghostbuster-in-chief. This wide-ranging and clearly reasoned book shines a torch through cobwebs.”
Cobwebs initially entangled me as I waded through Professor Maltman’s links between terroir, geology and microbiology, but I was gripped once he put into scientific context wine writing’s insistence that minerals in the vineyard bedrock contribute to the eventual taste in the bottle.So many other factors are at play. His conclusion: ‘minerality’ is a pseudo-science.
Inescapable mind. In a recent copy of Decanter magazine Beverley Blanning MW, author of a new book on Wines of the Loire Valley, reviewed eight Sancerres from that limestone-clay terroir with a hint of flint in the east of the region. The Domaine Vacheron sample is spared, but in her short evaluations of the other seven ‘mineral’ features seven times, ‘minerality’ three.
So what does have a major impact according to Maltman? Check out the chapter, Four Elephants in the Wine Room”. The four key factors are soils, rootstock selection, choice of yeasts, and ambient factors affecting taste perceptions.
Book number two, which wields its debunking scythe much further, is Sunny Hodge’sThe Cynic’s Guide To Wine (£25). As the title suggests it’s a rational antidote to romantic grape tosh, making use of the writer’s scientific background (in mechanical engineering) and running his two London wine bars – Diogenes the Dog and Aspen & Meursault.
Hodge is vituperous about the bullshit of wine speak: “‘The more we talk about wine in that way, the less we learn about wine. The more we understand why this tastes so “green-appley” because of the natural malic acid; why your Merlots and Cabernets taste so peppery, because of the pyrazines… I know it’s very technical food talk, but the more we talk about it normally, the less smoke and mirrors there are.” It’s a more approachable book than Maltman’s, ranging wider. I particularly liked the final chapter exploring taste perceptions and neurology.
I also enjoyed the sense of genuine personal engagement in the writing. Take this passage after he has pointed out that almost all rocks and minerals are essentially tasteless and odourless: “It is hard to believe that we conjured aroma associations with certain metals and rocks out of nowhere. I can myself recall the most distinct smell of lead from an unfortunate turn of events in Peckham.
“In my early twenties (he is now 35) I ended up with a couple of lead air rifle bullets lodged in the back of my head and jaw when I was the victim of a clichéd London robbery following a skate filming session… To this day the smell and taste of that alien object under my skin is unforgettable. How is possible that smell didn’t exist?”
Iberian spectrum – Priorat in CatalunyaSanlucar’s manzanilla vineyards in Andalucia
After such polemics a recognisable vineyard journey from one of the great English wine writers. Sarah-Jane Evans’ The Wines of Northern Spain has long been an essential guide to regions that are among my favourites. Now seven years on comes The Wines of Central and Southern Spain (Academie du Vin Library, £35), which takes us from from Catalunya to Cadiz via the Levante and ends on the wilder shores of the Balearics. Trendy Sierra Gredos doesn’t make the cut, but the omission is slight when there is much else to savour in this encyclopaedic evaluation of arguably Europe’s most interesting wine country. In particular I love they way she tackles the recent transformation of traditionally hidebound sherry country in Andalucia,
Also new in the same series is The Wines of California (£35) by Elaine Chukan Brown. It is an in-depth look at what is the world’s fourth largest producer of wine, focusing not just on her base, Napa, and Sonoma but other viticulture areas emerging against the challenge of climate change, drought and the threat of wildfires.
The book, heavyweight in every sense at nearly 500 pages, is divided into three major sections. The first presents the key ideas that help make sense of California wine as a whole, including the history of the state’s vineyards and how the topography delivers California’s climatic and soil conditions. The second tackles each major region in turn, spotlighting the most significant and interesting producers. A final section discusses the future of the industry across the state.
The Smart Traveller’s Wine Guide Series offer a pocket-sized, well-illustrated wealth of information that can enhance a road trip or stay in any region. The latest volumes, each just £12.99, live up to that billing – Tuscany by Paul Caputo and Rioja by Fintan Kerr (each £12.99). Both had me scanning cheap flights over.
Image credits: Chateauneuf du Pape galets (Megan Mallen); Sarah-Jane Evans and Sunny Hodge (Academie du Vin Library); Priorat (Antonio M Romero Dorado) and Sanlucar (Til F Teek).
https://i0.wp.com/www.neilsowerby.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/Chateauneuf-du-Pape_galet_stones-Megan-Mallen.jpeg?fit=1599%2C1066&ssl=110661599Neil Sowerbyhttps://www.neilsowerby.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/NS-typemark-v1c.pngNeil Sowerby2025-07-18 19:33:302025-08-04 09:45:12Exploding the minerality ‘myth’… plus expert guides to great wine regions