Always Swallow - Never Spit

Saturday night in West Hampstead - a wine tasting with a dear old pal and 7 of his friends who I'd never met before. God, what a night.

When I first arrived it was like a lesbian book reading club. A hostile, cold, closed rank of dykes on sofas. After the Prosecco aperitif, however, they did begin to thaw.

We sampled 14 white wines - the brief being 'Summer Wines'. I have absolutely no idea what we tried: Riseling, Chardonnay, Viognier and ... er ... some others - I will get the full list, promise.

Our amateurish tutor did her best to read from a wine guide book but I felt that despite her valiant efforts, she fell just slightly short of the mark. As we are all amateurs connoisseurs (but professional drinkers), I felt she should've got everyone more involved by asking what they could smell or taste in the wine. I'm definitely not being ungrateful though, it was good fun.

After the 'formal' tutored tasting, we (read: I) ploughed in to the remaining wine. Now I remember why I don't drink white wine. Cut to 4am and I'm still pouring out my heart about life, the universe and everything to the gathered lesbotic psychotherapists. I cringe when I retrace the path that my drunken conversation took.

And the hangover, well ... I'm STILL feeling the aftermath.

White wine is from the devil.