At £20, the Carignan/Syrah 2002 Observatory Swartland (13%) from South Africa ain’t cheap. It also isn’t ready. It needs two more years — at least — of cellaring. So purchase it as part of a case, perhaps InterWined’sTotally Awesome Christmas Cracker Wine Case, and lay it to rest as a Cellar Secret (our code words for cellaring & wine storage).

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The 2005 Domaine Saint Antonin ‘Les Jardins’ ((14.5%), from the South of France, has the sad distinction of being the worst rated of the InterWined’s Twelve Wines of Christmas. But it makes it into its Totally Awesome Christmas Cracker Wine Case (available year round – — hurray!), because it is extremely food friendly.

This can go with pea soup, turkey crown, and even that crazy Christmas pudding that so many old-fashioned Brits like to set on fire before shovelling down their gobs. It is soft and fruity, with very little on the nose.

And, sure, It’s approachable, but some may find it too overripe: 8.2 alone, 8.4 with Christmas vittles or in a mixed case.

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A recent lunch at One Blossom Street presented InterWined.com a unique opportunity: to try a very, very expensive wine, compared to a not-so pricey wine.

Owner Roberto, and wine merchant Antonello, were there for the private tasting. Roberto broke out his 2003 Barrua Isola Dei Nuraghi , made by the same folks who produce the super tuscan Sassicaia, which he said will be the next great wine to come out of Italy. He’s going to sell it for around £85 a bottle ($175).

Antonello brought his 2004 Piantate Lunghe, Conero Rossini, which would sell on a store shelf for a much more forgiving £12 ($25).

So which taste better?

Roberto isn’t a huge fan of his Barrua. He believes it is produced to appeal to more “international” tastes, and isn’t distinctly Italian enough. And he’s right to an extent, as it is a blend using French varieties: Carignano, Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. The wine is incredibly well-balanced. Flawless, even. Violets, plum and a strong helping of liquorice. The tannins are weak for an Italian wine, but this just makes the Barrua incredibly mellow. The loamy clay soil can also be tasted, at least that’s InterWined’s guess on what kind of earth the grapes grow in. The wineceller, Enotria, says that the wine pairs well with spicy food. They’re lying. Spicy food kills this wine. Ruins it. We tried the wine with a spicy tomato pasta with olives and hated it. 9.3 points. Drink by itself or with cheese.

Antonello’s Piantate was fuming with alcohol on the nose, but for some reason, it cut right trough the spice. His wine is a blend of Montepulciano and Sangiovese — very Italian. Medium body with surprisingly soft tannins. It had nice grip, sure, but still a year too young. InterWined noted a chalky flavor, which Antonello confirmed: the vines grow in chalky soil.

How about that? 8.9 points.

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Every Friday, InterWined.com pairs one great wine that exceeds its normal £10 ($20) threshold with one great meal, prepared following the instructions of some the Internet’s best food blogs.

This week’s ‘Blow the Bank’ takes another slight departure from the norm and comes courtesy of its own recipe for Cumberland Pie.

As mentioned previously, traditional British foods have a universally poor reputation — especially when compared to the traditional foods of their European neighbours to the South, such as France and Italy. The only fly in the ointment, however, tends to be that so few of the people doing the comparisons have ever had many of the traditional British foods that they deride.

Perhaps it’s their names: To people born outside of the Commonwealth, names like Fish Pie, Cumberland Pie, Cottage Pie, Shepherd’s Pie, Toad in the Hole, Bangers & Mash, Bubble & Squeak conjure up images of Monty Python sketches far more than they do desirable cuisine. And to be fair, who wouldn’t rather eat something exotic sounding like Coq au Vin over Steak & Kidney Pie, which to the American ear — at least — must sound like the worst dessert ever.

Yet, pies in particular are an essential and complicated part of British cooking and cuisine. There are pies that have crusts and pies that don’t. To complicate things further, there are vast differences of opinion on the most appropriate method of preparation. Does one steam a steak pie or cook it? If a Shepherd’s Pie is prepared with beef, doesn’t it become a Cottage pie? Should a Cottage or Cumberland Pie always have minced meat?

And while InterWined has its own opinions on each of the above, any debate would, in part, miss the point: Traditional British pies, like French cassoulet and Italian osso buco are comfort foods, hearty dishes made for eating on rainy days and after arduous work, that people love to eat because they taste good rather than simply sound tasty.

The Spanish 2004 Sangre de Torro from Miguel Torres might not ‘Blow the Bank’ with its £5.49 price tag (available at supermarkets everywhere) and slight air of ubiquity (again, available at supermarkets everywhere), but don’t hold those things against it.

Made of Garnacha and Cariñena, the Sangre de Torro or Bull’s Blood is commonly hailed as a great Catlan table wine; and, as with the Vinho Verde served in the previous ‘Blow the Bank’, that’s not intended as an insult. This is a wine for serving with roasts and casseroles and all matter of traditional comfort foods.

Its rich mix of blackberry, current, and pepper gives added flavour to the sweated onions and meaty vegetables such as the mushrooms featured in this week’s pie, during their preparation. And, once in the oven, it serves as an excellent blanket in which to wrap the meat under a heavy lid of mashed potatoes and grated cheese, ensuring that meat is tender, juicy, and slightly sweet. A comfort wine for comfort foods: 8.7.

So rather than argue the details of whether InterWined prepared a fully authentic Cumberland Pie, let’s simply agree it’s a comforting and hearty meal and one of the Worst Desserts Ever!

InterWined’s Own Dish in Full

Cumberland Pie

Click on the post to view and download the recipe

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Every Friday, InterWined.com pairs one great wine that exceeds its normal £10 ($20) threshold with one great meal, prepared following the instructions of some the Internet’s best food blogs.

This week’s ‘Blow the Bank’ comes courtesy of Lynette at Lex Culinaria and a tantalizing Pistachio-crusted Elk Roast with Wasabi Mash.

Alongside the recipe at Lex Culinaria is a post on a story that appeared in The Age, an Australian, Melbourne-based Newspaper, concerning fraud in the food industry and recipe theft in particular. In 2006, a Melbourne restaurateur, it seems, had begun copying other restaurants’ recipes and serving them in his restaurant. Given the shapelessness of the Web, Lynette pondered what, if any, lessons the article imparted to the food blogger. Her conclusion? The same as InterWined’s: few ideas and few recipes are truly original; and, whether copying or adapting, always give credit where credit’s due.

Bearing this sage advice in mind, InterWined decided to adapt Lynette’s excellent Pistachio-crusted Elk Roast with Wasabi Mash recipe, rather than copy it. And, instead, prepared a quicker ‘Blow the Bank’-friendly Pistachio-crusted Venison Steak with Wasabi Mash. (For those disinclined toward elk or venison, Lynette assures that beef works too.)

To accompany InterWined’s Lex Culinaira-inspired Pistachio-crusted Venison Steak, the 2005 Espelt Sauló, from Emporado along the Costa Brava in Catalonia, Spain, £12 from Philglas & Swiggot and widely available online in North America.

Sauló is Catalan for sand gravel and, oddly, an almost fitting description of the wine and the soil in which the grapes (Garnacha & Cariñena) were grown. There’s a dirt quality to the wine, but it’s also low in tannins, soft, and has a nice fruitiness. The wine’ earthiness makes it durable and helps it stand up against the Asian, sugary flavours of the dishes glaze, while the soft fruit pairs very nicely with the meat.

Lynette’s Recipe in Full

Pistachio-crusted Elk Roast with Wasabi Mash

Click on the post to view and download the recipe

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Check this: for £8.5, the 2006 Chateau Romanin Rosé from Les Baux-de-Provence tastes unbelievably bland on its own. Except for some strawberry in the beginning (typical) and some tartness in the end, with a bone dry finish (the only saving grace), there isn’t much to the wine. But the blend of 7 (yes, seven) grapes — Syrah, Grenache, Carignan, Cabernet Sauvignon, Mourvedre, Cinsault and one InterWined.com has never heard of Counoise — all work to one completely unpernicious (which, everyone knows, isn’t actually a word) end: it pairs amazingly with just about every type of dish one can make on a grill.

That’s is an unbelievable feat and InterWined is wondering if the more grapes in a blend, the better its chance to pair with more taste complicated dishes, such as grilled lamb chops with a yoghurt, mint and cumin dressing, with a twist of lemon, served with garlic pita, with pumpkin seed and coriander hummous…well you get the point. By itself: 8.2, with the grill, 8.8 easy.

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Bonterra 2004 Merlot and Zinfandel, ruby and peppery, respectively. Both full-bodied, but somewhat sweet. Well-priced and easy to drink. The lower blend of Shiraz-Carignan, whatever, cost around £5, and is about as tasty an Organic table can get.

2005 Vida Organica Sangiovese Bonarda blend, from Argentina. This nice little wine sells for £6 at one of London’s more impressive wine shops Planet of the Grapes. It’s peppery and smooth, very ripe with aromas of vine fruits. The label says red current, but InterWined tastes it as raspberry. Fun: 8.5.

2002 Williamette Valley Vineyards Pinot Noir Pommard: Aromas of blackberry with a hint of vanilla. Tastes of grape lollipop and smoky oak. There’s something floral and vivacious, that is muted out by the folds of jasmine perfume that come and go: 9.1.

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2003 Sanguinhal Estremadura: Ripe and bold, with black fruit and moist tobacco. Smooth tannin and a solid structure. Finish non-existent, giving the wine one, big great flaw. Other than that, feeling turned around on Portugal: 8.7.

2004 Lusitano Alentejo: Plumy and bubble-gummy, black cherry aroma, with a tad too much oak. Real old world style and surprisingly daring and rich; also, died in the aftertaste department: 8.8.

Decided to try the Bonny Doon, ‘Ancient Vine,’ Carignan, 2004. This wine brings with it a reputation larger than its label. Compared to the Portuguese wines, it was thin. Not unpleasant, but lacked the minerality and earth of the other two (just remembered the two Portuguese wines had that). That’s what you get when you stick ancient vines in fertile earth, though. No true identity; just another California wine. Drank the rest of the bottle the next evening with no apparent oxygen evolution: 8.5.

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