We live in an age of fascination with the United Kingdom’s great wartime leader (and no, I don’t mean Tony Blair). There are Winston Churchill books aplenty, including new editions of Pooh’s own writings; biographies, such as Andrew Roberts’s Churchill: Walking with Destiny and multiple volumes of William Manchester’s The Last Lion; guides to Churchill’s strategic thinking, such as How Churchill Waged War; and even focused inquiries into the great man’s life, such as the recent tome by a pharmacologist and a neurologist, Winston Churchill’s Illnesses, 1886–1965.
One of the most recent Churchill books is The Splendid and the Vile, an entertaining portrait of the prime minister’s wartime circle written by Erik Larson. He tells of how Churchill used weekends at Chequers, a country house outside London held in trust for the enjoyment of prime ministers, to host dinner parties with diplomats, top advisers, and military men. Churchill used his sumptuous table to build support for his strategies. Good things to drink were a key part of the campaign.
But the quality and quantity of alcoholic beverages being served threatened to overwhelm Chequers’s budget. That is, until a Government Hospitality Fund was tapped. With a bankroll to fill the house’s cellar, Churchill “took enthusiastic advantage of the program,” Larson writes.
Happily, the author provides one of the orders sent to the wine and spirits merchant used by Chequers. It provides us with an opportunity to serve a Churchill-style dinner of our own, complete with the drinks that would have been poured at such events.
First on the Chequers list are 36 bottles of amontillado sherry. The Duff Gordon brand is specified. That presents a bit of a challenge because the brand no longer exists. But it isn’t insuperable: Duff Gordon long ago sold out to Osborne. The 6-year-old Osborne amontillado is labeled “Coquinero.” But if you want its best, which no doubt would have been what Churchill had in mind, try to find Osborne’s elusive 51-1a amontillado.
For white wine, the Chequers list asks for 36 bottles of the 1934 vintage of Valmur, which isn’t a brand but rather a hill in the Chablis Grand Cru of Burgundy. Look for bottlings from Domaine William Fevre. The 2004 vintage is the one to find.
For the claret (a red wine from Bordeaux), Churchill specifies a 1929 Chateau Leoville Poyferre. Nowadays, one would strive to find the exceptional 2003 vintage, but it is likely to cost your own hospitality fund somewhere around $200 a bottle.
For port, Chequers orders Fonseca. That Churchill asked for the 1912 shows he knew his stuff — Fonseca considers it the best vintage it ever made.
With whiskey and brandy, Churchill is not nearly as detailed. He asks for “Fine Highland Malt,” not the Johnnie Walker Black Label blend he is known to have consumed. (There has even been the claim that Churchill liked Johnnie Walker Red Label. No doubt there were times he drank the low-rent mouthwash of the Walker clan, but holding Churchill in high esteem, I refuse to believe he actually liked the nasty stuff.) For brandy, he simply calls for a “Grande Fine Champagne” designated cognac. Interestingly, he doesn’t ask for Hine, a brandy brand long associated with the old bulldog.
The list is also surprising when it comes to Champagne, which looms large in the Churchill legend. (“I could not live without Champagne,” Churchill once declared. “In victory, I deserve it. In defeat, I need it.”) One would expect an order for a case or four of Pol Roger, the Churchill fizz. But no: Chequers requests the 1926 vintage of Pommery et Greno.
Who knows why there was a shift in Champagnes? Perhaps it was because of some difficulty with supply. There was, after all, a war going on.
Eric Felten is the James Beard Award-winning author of How’s Your Drink?
