Fri 12 Mar 2021 09.00 EST
Regular readers of this column may recall that I was talking about wine descriptions a couple of weeks back and said I couldn’t understand why the word “lush” wasn’t used more often. Admittedly, it wouldn’t be part of your average Master of Wine’s lexicon, but if someone tells me a wine is lush, I want to try it. And not just because I live in Bristol, where “gert lush” is the ultimate term of approbation.
Anyway, having recently tasted a lot of whites I regarded as lush, I thought it might be an appropriate topic to return to for Mother’s Day. Not that I am suggesting for a second that your mother is a lush, even if she does have a glass every night – I wouldn’t blame her, given the unremitting tedium of the past 12 months.