Welcome to Cape Town!

A SECRET memo from Fifa, leaked to a source at winegoggle, mentions concern at the lack of teeth among service staff at eateries in the Western Cape. Having spent the past two years rigorously monitoring hospitality standards in and around Cape Town, which is to host eight soccer matches during World Cup 2010, the soccer body questioned the lack of front teeth among waitrons and bar-staff.

“Some international visitors may find the sight of waitron smiling without the required front teeth unsightly,” the memo states. “And in instances it is offensive, especially when the owner of the gapped mouth attempts to pronounce challenging words on the menu. Even something relatively simple, such as ‘fresh fish of the day with chips and relish’ ends up with spittle flying all over the place and an irritable glimpse of bare pink gum.”

A restaurant owner in the V&A Waterfront says the so-called passion gap among workers of Cape Coloured heritage was something that had been worrying him and his fellow restaurateurs for some time.

“Let’s face it, staring through a gap in a person’s mouth and watching his tonsils vibrate as he talks about the specials of the day, is not very appetising,” he said. “But there is no way you can control it. When the staff come for interviews, all seem okay. But during the first shift, the false teeth are popped out revealing the passion gap they seem to find so attractive. Try talking to them about it, and they go on about their culture and heritage, and drag you off to some authority for attempting to restrict their culture.”

Florida Wentzel, a member of hospitality trade union LOEPNYE, said that the passion gap was a proud part of Cape Culture. “The practice of pulling our front teeth dates back to slavery times, and is very precious to us,” Wentzel say. “European slave masters would pull their slaves’ front teeth to prevent them from chewing through the ropes that tied them up at night. It is therefore part of our culture. Other cultures have piercings, tattoos and weird hairstyles, but we have the passion gap.”

Fifa is apparently concerned that the appearance of missing front teeth will give international visitors to the Cape the impression that coloured people were still subjugated and did not have access to decent medical treatment. “It is in everybody’s interest that the World Cup’s host country be seen as a country taking excellent medical care of all its inhabitants,” the memo says. “The appearance of a plethora of toothless mouths is not conducive to the image we wish to see South Africa project.”

Wentzel said, “Of course we have excellent medical care. The bloody dentist pulls the teeth, real carefully.”

Working out the Top 10, Eat Out style

WHAT is it about “Top 10” that is so hard to understand? Not much one would presume. Well, not if you are compiling the Eat Out list of South Africa’s Top 10 Restaurants. Then 10 can be 11. For this year, ladies and gentlemen, this self-congratulatory annual magazine tells us that its Top 10 restaurants, carefully selected by judges eating their way through hundreds of eateries, actually consists of 11.

Well, hell, why stop at 11 in your top 10? What about the 15 best rugby players of all time consisting of a list of 17….or 107 activities listed in 101 things to do before you die….fuck, let’s just call triplets twins!

Who this bunch at Eat Out think they are fooling by reneging on their commitment to publishing a Top 10 list is beyond any logic. And in the process, the credibility goes for a ball of wasabi.

For pray, if the well-eaten, clever, wise judges cannot even make a decision on a Top 10 out of a few hundred restaurants, who is going to believe the general credibility of the guide and its eateries?

Laugh it off, and pull my advertisement in next year’s issue.

Willy Myer

Despite the excitement generated by South Africa’s far-flung wine regions, location is still of paramount importance when it comes to marketing the country’s industry to the masses.

In this regard Groot Constantia is a real sitter. Not only is it the country’s oldest wine estate, but at a 20 minute drive from the Cape Town city centre, it is this venerable winery that is going to get the mileage when a big gig rolls into town.

And it doesn’t get much bigger – yet – than next week’s draw for the 2010 World Cup when they eyes of the world will focus on South Africa when Cape Town hosts the occasion of deciding who will play whom, where during the soccer tournament.

Here Groot Constantia has scored a coup - over 600 of the 4 000 strong foreign media contingent attending  the draw will  descend on Groot Constantia courtesy of Fifa for an introduction into the Cape’s wine splendour.

With Nederburg Wines being an official sponsor of 2010, some Distell bigwigs will surely be peed off by this opportunity becoming a rival in the wine market.

But taking on Fifa, the world’s soccer body organising and profiting from the World Cup Soccer Tournament, will not be a wise move for Distell. As that quaint Afrikaans saying goes: Jy krap nie aan die leeu se bal nie. (Translation: Pray, do not make any attempt to scratch the testicles of a lion.)

Who else  in the wine community is going to benefit from the World Cup is a very popular question of late. Local municipalities who are vying to host teams during the tournament have done diddly squat to get the support of the local community behind the tournament.

Here the Stellenbosch municipality – which includes Franschhoek and Pniel –  has been a particular disaster. Despite an initial launch campaign in June 2008 to muster support for 2010 among the wine community, the current mayor canned the whole project.

To date, nothing more has been done to get the greater Stellenbosch wine community behind the tournament and assist its residents and businesses in ensuring locals benefit from this once-in-a-lifetime event.

Hopefully next week’s draw will get those concerned to wake-up, smell the coffee and get off their arses.

CRU WINE BAR AND RESTAURANT, Cape Quarter Extension.  Tel:  021 418 6293        

 I’m a dedicated follower of fashion, so I checked out the new Cape Quarter, Cape Town’s new shopping mall. Of course, Gautengers would laugh after seeing this little place after all the hype. But then again, Capetonians have not been all that good at the mall concept as a fleeting visit to Cavendish Drol and N1 Pity will show.

The Cape Quarter Extension is a teeny mix of quaint little shops selling highly popular items such as hand-painted diaries, paintings of American cars and – I kid you not – vibrating massagers for cats. On the more decent side, ice-cream and delis are to be found. There is also a Spar and Woolworths, just to maintain a semblance of accessibility for the normal person, and a lot of the spaces are still boarded.

But hey, this Quarter claims to be the happening place for Soccer 2010 as it is situated on the pedestrian strips where, come June 11, thousands of supporters will pass en route to Cape Town Stadium.

I met Quintus Chagal for lunch in the Quarter, as the local hacks had spoken of a few good eateries in the joint. There was a place called Vanilla, but this looked far too gay – even for Quintus, and that says a lot.

So we went to Cru Restaurant and Wine Bar situated on the Quarter’s main square which provides one with stunning views of the other restaurant, a small tree and something that may be an attempt at a water feature.

Cru had a huge crew – more waiters than customers, all smartly decked out in white shirts, bow-ties and waist-coats. The gleaming black faces and white smiles gave the place a pleasant, comforting colonial feel, despite the attempts at being modern French.

In any event, I kicked off with a Mojito, and I knew I was going to like it here. The chap that made the Mojito was very liberal with the rum, and after three sips I was feeling mellow enough to realise that the water feature was actually a modern fountain.

Quintus was obviously trying to impress somebody as he ordered a bottle of Champagne. “Make sure it is pink, and make sure it is French,” he told the wine-steward in a tone befitting his status as wine boffin, albeit of the type that resides in the Cape Town suburb of Bellville.

As the steward walked off, our service ambassador came to introduce himself. He had a smart badge fixed to his waist-coat which identified him as Apprentice Waiter.

He informed us that there were no specials but that everything on the menu was “nice”.

The menu was far shorter than the wine-list, which made thing easy. Starters included carpaccio, mussels and terrine. The salads looked good, too. Mains were fillet, pasta with meat-balls, fish, Northern Cape lamb and a chicken dish.

Sipping on the French pink stuff, Quintus told Apprentice he’d like some carpaccio to start, while I went for the terrine. We were also presented with some deliciously cheesy bread sticks, which complemented the chilled Champagne.

The carpaccio was good and raw. My terrine was substantial and gamey, which – Apprentice told me – could be attributed to the ostrich.

My terrine was served with hunks of yellow bread, which was very fresh. I must chat to the baker. He knows his chops, this baker does.

Polishing of the Champagne, Quintus asked for the wine-list which had a bit of everything. We decided on Sauvignon Blanc, so Quintus went for the Crios Bride Sauvignon Blanc 2008. This wine is made in Darling to an adventurous oxidative style. It is like a sumo wrestler: big, yellow and fat. A huge nose of asparagus gives way to flavours of tin, oyster-shell and grape-fruit peel. I loved it.

For mains, Quintus took the tuna which as served à la nicoise. This meant a slab of rawish tuna with some runny boiled egg and a couple of anchovies. My stomach began to rumble just by looking at the dish, and I hoped Quintus had a stable constitution as neither of us knew where the shit-house was.

I ordered a flattened chicken breast wrapped in Serrano ham. This I got. But despite having repeatedly asked Apprentice for French fries instead of mash potato, I was served with the latter.

No real effort had been made to cook the chicken with some of its juices in-tact, which in retrospection made the mash a good companion. The Serrano was crispy and good, and delicious with the Crios Bride.

Quintus gamely attacked his tuna-egg-anchovy thing, and seemed to enjoy it, although with these arty types one can never tell.

You can do two courses for under R150 a head, which is not half bad for an average meal, made better by some good wine and a view of a funny fountain.

JP Bruwer

Going through a range of old Pinotage wines at a 50 Years of Pinotage tasting, the older wines reminded me of Lauren Bacall or Elizabeth Taylor: just because they’re alive doesn’t mean you can do anything with them.

The first two wines were Lanzerac – 1963 and 1969. In those days Lanzerac’s PInotages were made from top grapes grown on inter alia Bellevue and Kanonkop. The bottles looked like bowling skittles and the pink labels were way ahead of their time.

The two wines had been superbly stored and were, yes, alive. Neither had been oxidised to death. There was still a core of acidity on which layers of fruit – albeit of the tired fruit variety – drifted. There was a tarrish-figpaste character one often finds in old Bordeaux, but no discernible Pinotage character. But these wines were clearly over the hill, heading towards some porty pasture having left vinous credibility and accessibility behind.

Sure, the 1960’s exercise showed that Pinotage made from good grapes can live, despite the fact that no wood treatment was given. But apart from being conversation pieces, these are not the kind of spectacularly aged and accessible wines, as is the case with, say, George Spies 1966.

Moving onto the 1970’s, the Zonnebloem 1974 was the star of the flight, if not the entire tasting. Despite being thrashed by the British Lions, 1974 was a spectacular wine vintage. And it shows. The Zonnebloem Pinotage, all of 35 years old, exuded a distinct Burgundian character with a sweet core and a bright rim of red fruit. Spectacular.

The 1980’s also had a humdinger in the Zonnebloem 1988. The first whiff gave me a hit of bacon and mulberry, and the taste was all fruit mince and spice. The wood regimen the wine had been subjected to was not on hand, but the way the tannins stood firm yet plush and velvety made me wonder whether the barrels had not received extra curing in a salt-air region of France.

The nineties were big: we tasted Kanonkop, and L’Avenir, and now alcohols were up and wines were getting hefty.

And the current decade produced a stand-out in Red Hill 2003, Simonsig’s iconic Pinotage aimed at taking the variety by the scruff of its neck and pushing it to the forefront of big huge, modern South African wines.

I have never doubted Pinotage’s credentials, so was not surprised to find such an enjoyable set of wines under the Pinotage banner. In fact, besides the wines from the 1960’s I gave up that awful spitting habit and left the tasting purple-toothed, in good humour and with my shirt hanging out.

What excited me, however, was the energy around the table. De Wet Viljoen from Neethlingshof, Hannes Storm from Hamilton Russel and Altydgedacht’s Etienne Louw joined Beyers Truter in enthusing on the wines, the vintages as well as Pinotage techniques. This really is the South African variety, and if there is a crusade going, count me in and bring on the Holy Grail.

Pinot Noir heads Alex Dale and Paul Cluver like The Guide!

It has arrived, and in style. Neil Pendock and Michael Olivier’s People’s Guide was launched at the Vineyard Hotel’s airy, cool Splash bar and the event reflected the laid-back and quirky style of this guide.

Journalists, a TV crew, winemakers, former and current models, housewives, cattle farmers, bonsai experts, sushi chefs, actresses and even a guide-dog turned up to celebrate the launch of a guide which is really welcome addition to the country’s wine guide spectrum.

Conversation varied from the exhaustive process of putting a book like this together to the book of erotic short stories one of the wine hacks present was preparing for publishing. Paul Cluver gave me an earful for plonking ice in my glass of Two Oceans Pinot Noir, until I told him that his Cluver 7 Flags Pinot Noir (R300 plus a bottle) was also good with ice.

One of the winemakers also relayed the fact that a picture of WINE Magazine babe and Parlotone groupie Jeanri-Tine van Zyl had been pinned up in the winery’s office, just in case Jeanri happened to pop-in for one of her controversial Cellar Door Shoot Out columns.

Ms Van Zyl was present at the launch, of course, looking exotically elegant. Between her, wine.co.za’s Hilary Swank look-alike Nikki Lordan and hunk Miles Mossop, the People’s Guide launch was also aesthetically pleasing.

As mentioned, I eventually got to taste some of the Two Oceans Pinot Noir which, for R30 a bottle, is going to do a lot for demystifying the heartbreak grape.

So, what about that book?

The People’s Guide provides tasting notes and information on 561 wines selected from a list of 1 200 representing all major categories including Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Cap Classique, Cabernet Sauvignon, Shiraz, Merlot and Pinotage. Besides relevant information on each wines flavour profiles, the Guide offers food suggestions, quirky and irreverent wine-related facts and – most importantly – a guide to what the consumer can be expected to pay for the wine.

Stand-out wines are awarded their own page under the title Coup de Coeur (Blow to the Heart) to highlight wines that blew the judges socks off.

“Besides the terrific wines included in this guide, the book celebrates the wine consumer and wine buyer,” says Olivier. “Without the customer, there would be no wine industry. The industry therefore owes the customer a guide that clearly, objectively and honestly provides the wine lover with the information he or she wants to know. And despite all the hot air surrounding wine, the whims of the customer are simple: what wine tastes good and how much does it cost. This simple approach lies at the heart of the guide, which we have also tried to keep as informative and colourful as possible.”

According to Pendock, a wine guide has to have integrity and be written for the customer who is expected to pay good money for the love of wine, and not be written to opine or impress the insular wine fraternity. “That’s why The People’s Guide has – unlike South Africa’s other well-known wine guide – insisted on providing opinions reached through blind-tastings of the wines listed,” says Pendock. “In order to be honest to the paying wine customer, the judges tasted the wines unsighted and were thus able to provide truly objective, unbiased opinions which to our minds lead to the most authoritative wine guide in South Africa.”

In selecting the wines for The People’s Guide, Pendock and Olivier were assisted by local and international wine experts including Aníbal Coutinho, one of Portugal’s leading wine writers and judges, local doyenne Norma Ratcliffe, Cathy Marston who founded Cape Town’s The Nose wine bar and David Mnoneleli Msebi who trained under Marston at The Nose.

Besides the tasting notes, price guides and irreverent facts “Rooiberg Winery claims to be 10 000km from London and 9 999km from Paris!”, the guide ends with team called the Bacchus Boys consisting of 11 wine-makers ready to take on the world in 2010.

But the power-play is offered by Allan Cheesman, international wine consultant and former wine-buyer for British retail chain Sainsbury. In his foreword to The People’s Guide he writes: “As retail diversity increasingly becomes complexity becomes confusion, a GPS (Gastronomic rather than Global Positioning System) like The People’s Guide is a godsend to anyone wishing to find a shortcut to the ultimate gastronomic destination: a decent glass of wine at a decent price.”

The People’s Guide is published by Whisk Publications and retails for R99.

Bad Boys - Matt and Jamie.

IT has  been a tough week for wine writers. There were a couple of taxing functions to attend, a few hefty, palate-challenging meals to consume and a few exhaustive trips to the post office to collect the latest batch of freebie samples.
And then there were two vino hacks caught out for being dishonest in the plying of their honourable trade.
Take glamour boy Matt Skinner, author and wine-advisor to celebrity chef Jamie Oliver’s. Together Matt and Jamie look like a presentable duo one would find hugging the mike at the Glory Hole gay bar’s happy hour, blurting out hits like “I will survive” and “It’s raining men”.
Both of these boys are, however, mere mortals of the bull-shitting variety.
Last year Oliver was caught out for selling his own brand of pasta sauce that had four times the recommended amount of sodium, something Jamie found quite embarrassing as he is on a mission to castigate his fellow Brits for eating unhealthily. And now his vinous squeeze Matt has been found recommending wines he has not tasted.
That’s right folks. In Matt’s annual guide, The Juice, he recommends wines that he has not even sniffed, swirled or sipped. The full report is on Decanter, but to sum it up, Matt admitted that in the 2010 version of The Juice he had to supply tasting notes for wines despite the wine’s readiness for consumption not falling in-line with the production schedule for the book.
No worries, Matt reckons. Mighty Matt is permitted to describe wines to his readers he has not tasted. “….there are some releases that are consistent from year to year, and as popular, good value and accessible wines I want to include them because I know that my readers will appreciate them.

“In order to do so I include non-specific tasting notes based on the current and previous year’s vintage, focusing more on basic flavours and compatibility with food.”�
Matt’s publishers arrogantly reckoned this was okay. “We either upset one side or the other. There’s the side that wants the most up-to-date information, and there’s Michael Cooper’s side. The majority of the wines in The Juice don’t rely on vintage variation. A lot of them are going to be consistent each vintage.”
Just a pity they – like Matt – had forgotten what the author had written in a recent GQ column: “It’s important to remember that every year is different and that no two years – even in the same spot – will ever be the same. That’s the beauty of Mother Nature.”
Guilty as charged.
The other wine writer who seems to think “ethics” is a town in Greece, is that funny chap who writes a wine column in Die Burger’s environmental supplement. (Quite why Die Burger’s environmental supplement runs a wine column is open to debate.)
In any event, Die Burger’s Ombudsman recently had to publicly rap this particular wine writer over the fingers. For it seemed that this writer was moonlighting as a PR consultant to the very wineries he would write about in the editorial space given him.
Of course, this sort of thing only a real wally would do. But the wineries concerned are just as guilty for being party to these practices. You don’t have to be a member of the Poynter Insitute to realise that if you are paying some guy to generate publicity he should not be the one generating it under his name in editorial space.
Which begs the question: to what lengths would people go to sell a bottle of wine these days?
- Adrian Morgan

In another Winegoggle exclusive, President Barack Obama talks about wine, women and wrongs.

Winegoggle: It was very easy to set this interview up, I mean, I showed my passport, press-card and walked through.
Barack Obama:  But you’re an African, Brother! Step right in. And I’d rather chew the fat with you than one of those shiny despots north of where you’re from. Man I’m glad my father fled from those dudes…So what’s up?
WG: Mister President, you caused quite a stir in the South African wine industry when you ordered one of our sparkling wines after winning last year’s election.
BO: O, the Graham Beck. I’ve always been amazed by the influence of lime-rich, chalky soils on certain clones of Chardonnay. I don’t know what the rest of the sparkling wines from the Robertson region are like, but the breadth of flavours in the Graham Beck Brut are astounding. I’ve also had the Blanc de Blancs, which is hell-of-a intense.
WG: Where did you get to learn about wine?
BO: My old man kind of liked the bottle, found solace in it while herding goats. And kept right on going when he hit the States. So my initial impressions were not that favourable. But I learnt to like wine in college, and then when I hit Chicago you couldn’t get any politician to listen to you without a bottle of Screaming Eagle on the table.
WG: Any personal styles of wine you prefer?
BO: As mentioned, I’m a chardonnay nut, and if I wasn’t President I’d have to say that here in the States we know diddly squat about this variety. Burgundy will always be king – and none of that flirtatious Chablis nonsense. Big wood, honey, grilled nuts….go Montrachet or Go Home. You guys in South Africa make some good stuff, as do Australia en New Zealand. But when I retire as President I’m going to find out what the hell is happening in the States that we can’t get good Chardonnay.
WG: In South Africa the wine fraternity was pretty chuffed that you toasted your victory with our wine. Are you keeping some South African wine in the White House.
BO: Jefferson put an end to that, unfortunately. We’re only allowed to stock American wine in our cellar, so the old palate is getting a bit jaded. No French. None of the Riojas I like so much. No damn New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc either. We only drink American wine – no wonder Ted Kennedy (God Bless Him) keeled over during my inauguration lunch. American Pinot Noir just does not have the phenolic spectrum to do justice to the grape’s inherent aromatic delicacies. If we were England, it would be okay. They don’t make wine, so the Queen can get someone like Jancis Robinson to stock her cellar. Here in the White House we just call Reggie’s and ask them to bring any local grog they’ve got.
WG: So how do you pursue your interest in wine if you are limited to American?
BO: I read a hell of a lot – why do you think my belly is so flat? From reading Jancis Robinson’s books in bed. I’m a huge Parker fan, and not only because he’s 100% American. He knows his stuff, but I think I could give him a go with Chardonnay. And o yes, you guys in South Africa do a lot of writing on wine, especially on-line. But mainly I plan my foreign trips around my wine moods. That’s why I dig France, of course. Sitting at a banquet in Paris sipping Cheval Blanc ’71 is quite cool – especially as I get to sit opposite Mrs Sarkozy. Are we talking Babe Central, or what?
WG: You’d enjoy South Africa…
BO: For the Babes?
WG: That too, but the wine..
BO: I’m sure I would. Hillary (Clinton) was out that way recently and bought me back a real cool bottle of something you guys call Pinot Tag….
WG: Pinotage.
BO: Exactly. The label had a Civil War canon on it. Actually, I bent the rules a bit and drank it at a barbecue out in Hawaii over summer. It was really good.
WG: It must have been Kanonkop.
BO: That’s it. Yeah. Unique in flavour, fruity but serious, with a slight toastiness from new barrels, and supple tannins. The vines must be quite old, ‘cause there’s none of that aggressive abrasiveness and floating acidity you find from young vines.
WG: So no visit on the cards?
BO: There’s that soccer world cup gig next year, so I might swing by. I’ll buy you a glass of wine at the opening game, how’s that?
WG: No can do, Mister President. The sponsors won’t allow it.
BO: Which sponsor.
WG: Budweiser beer, sir.
BO: Bastards. I thought you guys had a constitution?

A family of rabbits ready for shooting.

THE rabbit infestation of Robben Island in Table Bay has brought splendid culinary experiences to the Bruwer table of late. I was invited to a culling session of these bunnies last week, and I can report that these are some of the finest specimens outside of Hugh Hefner’s palace.
Upon landing on the island, I noticed the extreme liveliness of these Robben Island rabbits. They energetically pounced across the hallowed soils instead of wobbling over looking for a freebie carrot. These were the wild, real things, and shooting them with a double-gauge shotgun was splendid fun and challenging.
I think I missed three.
In any event, upon returning home with five unwanted Robben Island rabbits, I began to prepare these animals in the way the rural Spaniards do.
First, I gutted and skinned the things, which is really simple as the skin pulls off rather easily. I chopped up the heads to feed to the pit-bulls and immediately sprinkled the pale flesh with sherry vinegar to draw-out any excessive gaminess.
It is important to inspect the flesh of the rabbits for bits of lead. For when hunting bunnies, you use – as mentioned – a shot-gun. This is the best way of ensuring you hit them on their cute little terrified hops for cover.
However, having blasted a bunny into the afterlife, you have to check the meat for any of the shot-gun pellets that contributed to ending the rabbits’ brief – but highly productive – existence. Finger the flesh for any pellets, removing them.
Rabbit meat does not require hanging like other venison as the blood content is low. And anyway, after receiving two blasts of 12 gauge, there ain’t going to be much blood left anyway.
Take a deep pan, pour in a glug of olive oil and fry-up two cloves of garlic. Cut the rabbit into four pieces, season with salt and pepper, and brown. Once brown, pour two cups of earthy red wine into the pan. Rioja is just fine, but ‘n Pinotage will do. Add a green pepper which has been de-seeded and chopped into the mix, as well as half a can of Italian tomatoes. One chicken stock cube will not do any harm.
Cover the pan and let it cook for 40 minutes. Now take the cover off and add a table-spoon of crème fraiche and a spoon of butter mixed with a teaspoon of flour. Cook until the sauce looks velvety.
Serve with crusty white bread and a glass of Pinot Noir.
What makes these Robben Island bunnies exceptional is the Island’s lime content. (Check out the picture of Nelson Mandela working the limestone quarry in cool shades to underscore this fact.) Limestone gives good flesh, as it makes for strong bones that exude tasty juices into the meat once cooking starts.
Forget hugging – shoot a bunny and live.
- JP Bruwer

Enfant terrible movie director Quentin Tarantino bored me so much that I found myself thinking about the Platter Wine Guide halfway through his new movie. Called Inglourious Basterds, Tarantino’s war flick tells of a bunch of American Nazi hunters scalping Germans in occupied France, a plotline certain winemakers are apparently preparing to launch on unsuspecting wine writers one of these days.
In any event, the movie was a no go. Lots of long scenes with senseless, contrived dialogue culminating in the ubiquitous blood fest. The only scene worth watching is the one where crumpet warrior, Melanie Laurant, herself an assassin of Nazis, prepares for battle by dressing up in red to the tune of David Bowie’s “Putting out the Fire”. Very hot.
Then I thought of all the reviews that had greeted the release of Tarantino’s latest. As usual the film critics were wetting themselves with awe at Tarantino’s alternative genius, his contemporary brilliance, his redefining style, cinematic superiority, his originality, etc, etc.
And I thought to myself, what would these self-same critics have said had they not known that Inglourious Basterds was a Tarantino product? Okay, the smouldering Laurent scene was vintage Tarantino, but the rest of the flabby movie could have been made and written by just about anybody who wanted to prove a point, but did not know what that point was.
Rating a movie blind or unsighted may be somewhat of a contradiction in terms. But I bet critics would have panned this movie if it did not come with the Tarantino tag. But seeing that it did, their preconceived opinions got the better of themselves.
Are we thus saying that movie critics are a bunch of wankers? Having been one myself, I’ll hold judgement for a while. But like wine critics and judges, movie, art and theatre scribes are only mere mortals. Mere  mortals who find it – understandably – difficult to look objectively at and a subject whose source and identity carries a five star reputation.