To this day I still blush at the memory of one Metaxa episode. In 1966 George Harrison and friends opened perhaps the most exclusive club in London, Sybilla's. Membership was expensive and by invitation only and the general peasantry (which included me) hadn't a hope in hell of getting in.
As it happened I was going out at the time with a Sydney lass, Lorraine.
Lorraine was well connected – she knew Sean Connery, members of the Beatles and worked for Vic Lowndes, head honcho of the newly opened London Playboy Club. Her parties were frequented by Playboy Bunnies, actors, rock stars and young Aussies out on the tear. She generally got around.

Lorraine was a member at Sybilla's and invited me along one night - unfortunately, as it turned out. Before we headed off to the club I'd had an aperitif, or six, of Metaxa. By the time we got there I was half-cut, and, after a few more glasses of this and that, fully cut. Apparently I started chatting loudly to other patrons, offering my opinion on the shortcomings of the music that was playing. So much so that an impertinent bouncer showed me to the door, refusing even to call me a taxi. Somehow I made my way home.

I believe I was the first if not the only person ever thrown out of Sybilla's, an honour that for some reason did not exactly impress Lorraine.
Our relationship went downhill after that. Well, actually, I never did hear from her again. A mutual friend told me later that after some negotiations, in which she denied that I was her guest or that she'd ever heard my name, she was able to retain her Sybilla's membership.

Despite all that I still enjoy an occasional snifter of Metaxa. We take it like Cognac, after dinner from a decent glass. It is a rich, warm, mellow drop. Aromatic as befits a fine brandy, with top notes of aged spirit and undertones of raisins, and of all things, Turkish Delight.

According to their website Metaxa is double distilled from wine made from the grapes soultanina, black corinthian and sabbatiano. This spirit is aged in Limousin oak for five years and blended with Aegean muscat wine and 'botanicals', including rose petals. It is bottled after a further six months of cask ageing.

Sideways – the Wine Movie
Saw the wine movie Sideways recently in the magnificent open air cinema in Sydney's Botanic Gardens. Sideways is part road movie and part Odd Couple.
In a nutshell the plot concerns the adventures of two friends, Miles (Paul
Giamatti) and Jack (Thomas Haden Church), who take off on a week's tour of Californian wineries prior to Jack's upcoming wedding.

Miles is a tragic wine geek, Jack a laid back, amoral skirt-chaser (and
catcher) who's not too particular about who he's trying to make out with or what he's drinking – he enjoys it all. The lads meet up with Maya (Virginia
Madsen) and Stephanie (Sandra Oh) and get on with an edgy exploration of love, lust and wine – their adventures peppered with much wine tasting, confrontation and elements of mayhem.

If I have one quibble it is with the movie's cinematography, which has a low-budget feel – some of the vineyard footage reminded me of my own home videos. Aside from that, Sideways is a witty, wine literate, side-splittingly funny movie with fine direction and first-rate acting, especially from Madsen. Rating: Four out of five stars. Must see.

Book review
Cupboard Love A Dictionary of Culinary Curiosities. Mark Morton, Insomniac Press, 2004, Ontario. Paperback, $USD16.95.

The question was what to read on the beach this summer? Then Cupboard Love arrived for review – its theme combining two of my favourite subjects, food and words. Cupboard Love takes the reader on a fascinating tour of food-related words: their etymology, historical and current usage and associated trivia. Said roots follow a trail of linguistic detection through sources such as Medieval Latin, Old English, Ancient Greek and Indo-European.

A few examples to whet your appetites. Carnival, the day of feasting before 40 days of fasting for Lent, comes from the Medieval Latin caro for meat and levare to lift away. '...Aubergine derives from the Sanskrit word meaning the vegetable that prevents farting...' The word garbage originally meant dishes made from offal or organ meat, and avocado was the Aztec word for testicle. Think about that next time you ask for guacamole dip.

Morton is an academic and his writing, though erudite, is leavened by a dry wit that raises a chuckle as one grazes the pages. Cupboard Love is highly recommended as a welcome addition to the reference shelf and a lovely bedside book.