Saving things for "best"

Something of a family curse

Am moving things round again, to make space for our excellent plasterer to get on with the next section of the stairwell/hallway, and in amongst the spare van doors, sheet metal and pretty part of the last piano that I decided to keep but now don’t know why - I find this bottle of champagne.

Moet & Chandon from 1976. Was probably rather nice. Once upon a time….

This was an 18th birthday present from my boss. I took I home quite excited, as I’d never had anything more fancy than Granny’s favourite Asti Spumate and Babycham, both regularly quaffed by children in the 70s as not being alchoholic. Or not very. To be fare, a lot less alcoholic than cider, which was also deemed acceptable for children as it was made from apples. However, I digress.

As I say, I took the bottle home, quite excited, and asked my Dad to open it after dinner to have with my birthday cake. Obviously this is not how things panned out. “Oh No” says Mum, “don’t waste it. Save it for somethings special.”

18th birthdays in my family were not things of which much fuss was made.

So there we have it. It went in the cupboard with the ever lasting bottles of brandy and whisky and advocaat, and the not quite so long lasting bottle of Stones Ginger Wine. At some point I discovered it, and took it with me to my rented room, thinking sod it I’m just going to drink it with friends just because we are having a good time. I have no idea why, but this too never happened. I do remember someone saying it would long ago have turned to vinegar. Still, I kept it.

The bottle and I moved on. It has spent years in sheds, under sinks, and latterly on top of my friend Di’s Great Aunt Rosie’s mirror which we adopted rather a long time ago.

I have just picked up it up as the mirror has to come off the wall. It is dusty, slightly plaster splattered, and generally rather grubby. Hello Bottle my old friend, my companion these past … well, almost 44 years.

According to an internet search, if stored correctly, it would have been at its best around my 18th birthday. According to the internet, such bottles in good condition do change hands for money.

Wine Upon A Time currently has a bottle for sale. It says “The year 1976 was marked by extreme weather conditions: a particularly harsh winter followed by a scorching summer. These conditions resulted in an exceptionally early and concentrated harvest. The wines of this vintage are often characterized by an intense aromatic richness and great generosity in the mouth, while retaining a pleasant acidity, a guarantee of a good capacity for aging.”

1976 was The Drought. I don’t remember the winter before, we’d had a few harsh winters, including the one of Discontent. Or was it two?

Well, Bottle. Shall I try and clean you up a little? Then when the wall is plastered and decorated and Di’s Great Aunt Rosie’s mirror goes back on the hall wall, you can take your place atop. And not get covered in house debry. Or shall we drink you?

What would you do? Answers on a postcard please…

Di’s Great Aunt Rosie’s mirror, in our soon to be plastered hallway, home to Bottle