Sunday 27 July 2008

Venetian Holiday

Wine Goose awakes early, tiptoes out of her bedroom to the adjacent kitchen, peers out the window before satisfying herself that it is safe to emerge, and then hauls open the double doors to the balcony. A weak Adriatic sun greets her efforts and she sets about arranging the terrace table so that Mr R and the children will enjoy a sun shaded breakfast. First mission completed she now quietly collects her wallet, dons her Fit Flops, then descends the stairs before making the short journey to the local supermarket.

En route she is joined by an international mixture of fellow holiday makers - Germans, Dutch, Austrian, Swiss, English, Irish, Italian - work hard all year and you too shall be rewarded with your fortnight in the sun. The enthusiasm is catching. On arrival at the local shop Wine Goose works hard at hiding her astonishment at the prices. Despite loading her basket with luxury items her breakfast bill does not exceed €10.00 and she returns to her family with renewed vigour.

After breakfast a replete and clearly relaxed Mr R suggests a visit to the local beach. The offer is greeted with delight by the kids and Wine Goose swings into action, getting them into their swimsuits and applying sunscreen. Can't the manufacturers do a little more ground research before they launch this stuff on the public? A fortnight of twice daily applications is enough to drive a normally sane housewife to a home holiday. Bad enough that the children will not stand still, the stuff refuses to come out of the bottle unless in a massive gloop, and then adheres not only to the children but also to both sides of the mothers hand, with no possibility of removal until they are completely covered. Add the insufferable heat and it almost becomes unbearable. But it has to be done - to appear with sunburnt kids nowadays is akin to admitting to following Kabullah. Offering up a silent prayer for the days when they eventually take off to Ibiza with their classmates, Wine Goose hooshes the children out the door in the direction of the beach. Only when they are out of sight does she interrupt Mr R's persistent novel reading and send him sprinting in their wake.

Following a frantic session of washing-up dishes and sorting clothes Wine Goose joins the family on the gently shelving pleasantly warmed Adriatic shores. 'Where were you mummy?' asks our son. 'Oh, just back at the house applying suntan lotion' I reply. That afternoon, after yet another sleepless siesta and following a hectic session of child-watching at the swimming pool Wine Goose decides it's time for her to take a break from catering, and calls Mr R's bluff. She suggests that he comes good on his threat of cooking one of his signature dishes - Spaghetti alla Bolognese, something that he has heretofore claimed can only be achieved in the land of it's origin, with the requisite ingredients to hand. The entire family is happy to march him to the supermarket. The children are admirable in their ability to sniff out the finest peppers, mushrooms, carrots, aubergines and onions. A new take on the classic dish - Jamie Oliver watch out.

Whilst they are seemingly occupied with shopping Wine Goose takes a few minutes to wander the wine aisle. She is not expecting miracles, hoping only for a reasonably priced bottle of Chianti Classico or maybe even a Bardolino. Initially it seems like she might be correct in her prediction. The supermarket is clearly catering to the holiday market - Muller-Thurgau abounds. This is a spectacularly underperforming variety, offering wines of neutral flavours, but its a name that's familiar to the German market, and Wine Goose notices more than a few large bottles being removed from the shelves. Then there's Lambrusco. Keep walking; dolce (sweet) and amabile (semi-sweet) versions are enough to send the seasoned wine lover running for cover. But then she spots it. Hidden at the back of a shelf lurks a bottle of Lambrusco Secco - Wine Goose pounces - there is no more perfect accompaniment to Italian tomato based dishes. A lightly sparkling red wine, it has lots of fruit and just the correct amount of acidity to balance a superlative Bolognaise dish. Can Mr R deliver a meal that matches up to the wine? Readers, watch this space....

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