Last week, I ended my book tour with an event at Elliott’s in Edinburgh for the city’s book festival. These tastings usually take place on a week night, so I tend to opt for three easy-drinking favourites. A kabinett riesling? Check. A fruity côtes du Rhône? Check. Then I spied a lambrusco. I love starting the evening with a joyous glass of something fizzy but, to my surprise, many members of the audience remarked how they didn’t have the best memories of lambrusco.
I suppose I’m showing my age here, because all I know of lambrusco is the delicious, bone-dry examples that pop up at chic chef residencies and firmly at the top of wine lists in brilliant Italian restaurants. Most of my audience, however, recalled it rather less fondly: as a super-sweet drink that seems to have wedged itself irreversibly into the brain of anyone who was alive and drinking in the 1970s and 80s.
