It’s rare to hear anyone say a bad word about screw caps on wine bottles . . . In fact, I’m slightly scared about what I’m about to say next but really, they are not without their downsides.
I was on the Eurostar last week making my way to France for work and, as is my want, I’d made up a little M&S picnic at St. Pancras including a mini bottle (£5.99 for 25cl) of Paul Sapin’s Châteauneuf du Pape.
Comfortably aboard I set out my lunch and felt pretty smug as the lady sitting next to me took a bite out of her overpriced, tired-looking pannini. I picked up my wine and went to unscrew it open. Except it didn’t; the thread was defunct and whilst it happily spun round and round there was no leverage to separate the cap.
I can find no words to explain the frustration. I tried clamping the lower part of the seal in my jumper whilst twisting the top – no joy. I tried wedging it between the arm rest and my body — no chance. I was no longer smiling. That the lady next to me hadn’t even tried to hide her chuckle was even more irksome.
That was the point at which I realised I had to get into this bottle. Had it been a cork and a forgotten corkscrew I could have solved that in a jiffy. The screw cap, on the other hand, was a much trickier customer.
I went to the restaurant car and they had no answers; although plenty tried the same as me. Returning to my carriage I emptied my case over the floor in the fruitless search for a penknife. I mean honestly, I left the Guides 20 years ago. My fellow passengers clearly thought I was mad — or worryingly keen — such was my determination to crack the cap. And then finally, in a moment of genius, I pulled out my electric toothbrush and removed the brush to reveal the narrow metal tip that causes the brush to vibrate.
Hurrah! That was the answer, being as it was, sufficiently small to slide under the cap, to push out the edges away from the thread. At last, one bottle opened.
Of course, this whole ridiculous exercise had taken me about half an hour and I was uncomfortably warm and had a suitcase that looked as though it had been ransacked by a dozen monkeys. I also had a bottle that could never again be resealed and so I was obliged to drink it in its entirety before we got to Gare du Nord. What a hardship!
Just as well then that it was a very good Châteauneuf du Pape indeed; rich, ripe, juicy black fruits and smooth tannins. Worth all the effort? Just about I’d say.
In truth, I was so taken with it that when I discovered that this weekend is the last couple of days of British Sausage Week that I thought I’d hit on just the wine to go with a nice, plump Oxfordshire banger. Sadly though, they only sell the Paul Sapin wine in 25cl bottles. Fine if you’re on your own but not so great if you’re planning on drinking in company.
As an alternative you’d do worse than to try the punchy, fragrant the Tyrell’s Hunter Valley Shiraz 2007, which is a steal at £7.99 from M&S.
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules here