Today

Weekends are funny things. Even if you've been off work all week you still think that the weekend's a failure if you haven't got your social life sorted. On Friday was wine circle. We met at Gill's house. She's relatively new to the circle and doesn't have much wine-making knowhow or many wines on the go. Instead she had gone through the somewhat eclectic and miscellaneous wine & liqueur collection that her late husband had stashed in the garage. Half of the labels had come off in the damp and she was vague as to when they had been bought.

Would a 25-year old Spatleser be drinkable? And how about Austrian red? So, over a very nice and leisurely supper, we tried some of this, some of that. The Spatleser was rather nice, if a trifle oxidised. And Austrian red a pleasant surprise. In fact, her husband had obviously had a predeliction for Germanic wines. These days with German wines rather out of favour since the days of Blue Nun and Black Tower it was good to rediscover them.

Once we were tucking into the cheeses (we had more disagreement about the Brie than the wine - being divided between those who reckon that it should be running all over the plate and those who think that it should just be bulging a tiny bit.), Gill then heaved out the liqueurs. Wild orange Grand Marnier, Benedictine (better than Benylin for my throat, although Benylin tastes better), Ancient brandy, Bols melon liqueur, Anisette, Creme de Menthe. And so on. And I wasn't driving that night.

So a very jolly and interesting evening - none of us got drunk, we all got very cheerful and learned something more about the amazing world of alcohol.

In My Day

My father's attitude to alcohol was very different. Being the son of an habitual drunkard, who had seen his mother being reduced to doing menial tasks because her husband, who had a perfectly respectable trade as a bookbinder, drank away his wages, he was at best very cautious about drink. He hated whisky because that had been what his father used to drink. And, in fact, spirits made a very late appearance in our household. He himself drank very little; a sherry and some wine at Christmas.

My mother was more relaxed. She did love her German wines. When the whole family gathered each year at their retirement bungalow in Dorking to celebrate Mamma's birthday in October, Mamma would have laid in stocks of Goldener Oktober wine; I can still taste that autumnal, generous flavour. She would even drink Liebfraumilch (this was before the days when nasty northen pubs offered it on tap to hen night groups).

Wine was strictly for celebrations; Birthdays, Christmas and the like. I was always allowed a taste but didn't like it much. One reason was that wine was relatively more expensive than it is now and much less easily available. You couldn't just pop down the supermarket any time of day or night and pick up a few or email The Sunday Times Wine Club for a case of Claret. And, although my father earned a good salary at Hansard, we were never rich.

I didn't really start drinking until I went to college and then we drank cider and the most apalling cheap wines.

So I've come on a long way since then. Or have I?