Ricard, The Editor and I (Davy) returned to the site of Elitistreview’s 20th anniversary lunch, 10 Greek Street, for dinner. 10 Greek Street has a very reasonable corkage policy, so we took four wines of screaming brilliance. Ricard provides notes on them below, but I thought I would say a few words about the food.
Let us not dally: the restaurant is excellent. It is a friendly, cosy dining room – so intimate that The Editor and I caught colds – but whilst the buzz of conversation is noticeable, it was not so loud that we were inaudible to each other.
As far as food goes, the menu is short, focussed and lust-worthy. I was confused as there is no demarcation on it between starters and main courses; fortunately Ricard and The Editor are less vacant than me. We ate exceptionally well.
We had an amuse bouche of a fried pizza with anchovy. The anchovy flavour lifted this to heady heights – absolutely delicious!
For our starters Ricard and The Editor chose cod cheeks cooked in strips in a tempura-type batter. Oh yes, these were good. Light and crispy, not over-cooked, and full of flavour. Thank you, Ricard, for giving me one. I simply adored it.
However, I won the starter question; I chose Tamworth pork with ‘nduja, apple and covered with some sort of small, freshly trimmed plant that I did not trust. I may not like pork with apple, but the pork with ‘nduja was a masterpiece.
It was a strip of pork loin, rubbed with ‘nduja and cooked until it was just the right side of being done. It was juicy, throbbing with flavour and just enough ‘nduja heat to keep one’s palate aroused. Totally brilliant.
To those who insist on having white wine with fish, I say, “Pooh to you! Pooh to you with knobs on!”. Our two silken, svelte Northern Rhône wines were a delight with our fishy main courses. Monkfish with Puy lentils, chorizo and garlic.
They were wonderful pieces of fish, cooked skilfully and presented with panache. The touch of the grill on the top of the fish gave it a wonderful texture. The lentils they were served on were cooked to delicious softness in a stocky broth, charged with delight due to the chorizo and fried garlic pieces. One of the best things I have put in my mouth in quite some time.
The fried potato side dish was inventive and tasty. For obvious reasons I cannot comment on the… ergh… green things.
Desserts were suitably decadent to finish a glorious meal. The sticky toffee pudding in particular was very warmly received – those caramelised pecans with it… joy!
It is not a cheap restaurant, but we are not cheap. We loved the atmosphere, adored the food, and gleefully exploited the corkage policy. Service was friendly but unobtrusive. 10 Greek Street Is highly recommended by these three members of Team Elitistreview – we shall return many times.
Over to Ricard!
Rioja Reserva Gravonia 2010, Lopez de Heredia
Drinking this wonderful wine is like seeing an old friend, and happily I had this vinous wonder with old friends. The 2010 vintage is one of the top four or five vintages of the last 30 years in Rioja, alongside ’01, ’04, ’05 and many say ’21, and my view that this Gravonia was slightly short of its usual greatness is that it is yet to show us its true potential.
This is not to say it was not singing; it is just a notch below its usual dazzle. The nose displayed a rich array of the weird and wonderful, from salty toasted almonds to orange peel, to iodine, to waxy notes.
It has got plenty of zesty acidity, framing a core of nuttiness, and the unmistakeable tinge of oxidation, all densely knit into a charming whole.
It is not a wine for everybody, nor would I want it to be. It is a wine for contemplation and admiration. It also provides plenty of pleasure and tells a story as it progresses.
The last glass was much superior to the first, hinting at what this wine will become in a decade. Perhaps should have decanted? Either way, Gravonia remains a classic wine that is defiantly idiosyncratic.
Cornas 2016, Guillaume Gilles
Loved this right away – very dark, blue/black inky colour, lots of gloss. Super seductive nose of blackberry jam, soft ripe figs, tar, and a mildly ferrous note.
Much less tannic than the Cornases I have tasted from the previous hotter, drier vintage, with a highly polished, satiny texture. This is a refined, sophisticated wine of great allure. Not at all like old-school Brett-y, earthy, animalistic Cornas, but more of a serious attempt to find the quintessence of the Chaillot lieu-dit through splendidly ripe fruit. No doubt this will evolve to greater heights.
Davy adds: Guillaume Gilles, Domaine Lionnet and Mikael Bourg are the Cornas producers who are the current main event in the boudoir of trends. They make their wines in a traditional, minimal-intervention style, but their wines are clean and accessible. They can also take brilliance to bed and give it a really good time.
As Ricard intimates, Gilles 2015 is as great a wine as any Cornas one is likely to try. I am also of the view that they will age gracefully, even though they are more accessible young than wines from the likes of Clape. Whilst the 2015, 2017, 2020 and 2022 are better than this, this was not too far from the climax at the summit of splendour, and I grinned with delight whilst drinking it.
Côte-Rôtie Maison Rouge 2012, Georges Vernay
A stonking good wine! Hugely expressive nose of blackberries, roses, violets and dollops of sizzling bacon fat. Yum! What a wine. I was expecting a little more tannin, but like its predecessor this evening it was silky and fine, perfectly poised between all the dimensions, endlessly harmonious. We thoroughly enjoyed this jewel. It is everything top Syrah should be.
Davy adds: 2012 is not the best of vintages, but this pressed the pleasure point in exactly the way Côte-Rôtie should. It was not engorged with booze, oak and jammy fruit. Rather, this was the silk sheet is a world of scratchy blankets; elegance and refinement transfigured into wine. That is what Côte-Rôtie should be, and this was approaching ne plus ultra of that aesthetic ideal.
Rivesaltes 1978, Château Saint-Michel
An absolutely ridiculously luscious, positively singing Rivesaltes. Clearly 1978 was a vintage for the ages, as this wine (fortified, to be fair, so likely eternal) could have been made yesterday. Its colour alone was enough to send you into raptures, a rich, bronzed amber glow.
Perhaps not a rapture but a meandering soliloquy that would get you arrested for disturbing the peace. Lots of caramelised orange here, and grated fresh ginger, and oodles of viscosity, but plenty of zingy acidity to rein it into a neatly contained whole, with a touch of nutty bitterness on the finish. Superb, and went down an absolute treat.
I guarantee that any 78s lying around will be this good long after I have shuffled off my mortal coil.
