Time for game and those hearty reds (From The Oxford Times)

Time for game and those hearty reds

2:31pm Thursday 4th October 2007 in

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IN my tiny university bed-sit I possessed a very aged, precariously-positioned, two-ring Baby Belling oven. It was tiny. It couldn't have been more than 50cm wide and it was barely possible to roast half a chicken in the modestly proportioned oven.

Still, it was the start of my relationship with cooking with wine. The Belling presented me with two challenges. First, the rings seemed incapable of bringing anything to a boil in less than an hour. Attempting to deglaze a pan with a glass of wine was nigh on impossible and reducing wine sauces took so long that they more often ended up in the glass than on the plate. Stews and ragouts were similarly fated: a melancholy bubble rising up the centre would give hints of a simmer which never extended to the outer rims of the casserole dishes.

I have been pretty sensitive to the whole cooking with wine thing ever since. Wine wastage is, in my book, not acceptable. It's fair to say that cooking with dodgy leftovers and faulty bottles is a bad idea. You will not boil or cook away the problems. Still, a modestly, sensibly-chosen wine will certainly do the job. No point pouring your top-end Bordeaux into the coq au vin.

The whole flambé thing can be a precarious skill to master. Some years ago, I'd just finished browning my pheasants and had added a (needlessly generous) portion of calvados to the pan to ignite. I was so set on the spectacular kitchen theatre that I utterly forgot to turn off the extractor hood above. The sight of the flames being sucked up and encouraged to even greater proportions by the extractor will not easily be forgotten. The sight of my husband breaking into Michael Johnson like speed to ensure that our humble rented cottage wasn't to be raised to the ground in a matter of seconds won't be easily erased either.

Wine curios' can have equally frightening results. You know what I mean - the bottles of something perfectly nice that have had something added to them to make it more exciting. Some of these are perfectly well-meaning. Take, for example, the fruit soaked in liqueur that my sister brought my mother back from Paris as a teenager. Loyal to a fault, my mother treasured that gift for some time. It eventually came out for pudding with a friend she'd invited to lunch while I was at a school. I can still remember the shrill laughter that could be heard from the school bus stop as the merry duo skipped round the garden. And, more impressively that that, the tiny little Renault 5 that my mum's friend had managed to park at a 90-degree angle on the narrow driveway after an impromptu visit to the hairdressers after lunch. Clearly, it was pretty potent stuff (especially served up in Scottish quantities as opposed to delicate Parisian soupçons). How that car ever got out of the drive I will truly never know.

Much more recently, a friend gave me a little sign which reads: "I love to cook with wine, sometimes I even put it in the food!." How wonderfully appropriate and it's a sure way to ensure that you don't take yourself too seriously.

With the game season now well under way I hope, firstly, that all extractor fans are kept firmly in check but also that you take it as an opportunity to start embracing the heartier reds that go so well with this fare and the turning weather. The full-bodied quartet that is on offer from The Oxford Times Club this week has been specifically chosen with game in mind. I, of course, will be plucking and stuffing with a glass of wine in one hand and a fire blanket in the other.

Click here for this week's offer of a mixed case to accompany game.