Author THE DUKE OF NORTHUMBERLAND

My father wasn’t mad keen on good wine, preferring a Tío Pepe before lunch, a glass of Blue Nun from the fridge during lunch and a good slug (or two) of Famous Grouse in the evening - and perhaps a glass of Cockburns or Kümmel by the snooker table after dinner. I inherited a ‘wine cellar’ in the form of an old cupboard backing onto the boiler room, with a few simmering bottles of undrinkable plonk inside. My taste buds weren’t completely destroyed by Liebfraumilch, so I started collecting wine with a bit of help from various experts, and now have a passable cellar with a few gems, mostly donated by extremely generous French friends.