How wrong can I be?

Jonathan Ray reckons size matters and finds himself wrong footed by the supermarkets.

So there I was at my birthday supper. Marina, bless her, had done all the grub and I’d done the wine. We had 20 folk round the table, some keen on their wine and some keen on, well, just drinking. Indeed, the ones with the most highly polished drinking boots seemed pretty indifferent as to what it was exactly that they drank so long as they drank something.

We started with a selection of fine English fizz that I had amassed during my whistle-stop tour of the wineries of West Sussex and Surrey (see Browsing and Sluicing…) and excellent they were too. We can finally bury the notion that English sparkling wine is second to champagne. The bottles of Ambriel, Tinwood, Upperton and Denbies really did hit the spot.