Bon appétit, sweeties! It is I, erudite New York socialite and cultivated wine snob, Bigs von Bubbles. But then you already knew that, ya putz!
Rare is it that I venture past West 29th – it all gets a bit ethnic for my cultivated tastes – but, when I heard there was a gigantic corkscrew at the Bendooley Estate in the Southern Highlands of New South Wales, Australia, I knew I had to see it.
After all, if the Aussies need a corkscrew the size of a taxicab, just imagine how much yummy booze they must have – hick!
Not wanting to miss out on the soiree, I scrambled to book a flight on one of the few airlines that will still have me. (My heartfelt thanks to Motu from Air Eritrea, who made sure I was never without a carafe of alcoholic baboon milk – an East African favourite – during the 67-hour flight)
The journey, and my brief incarceration at Sydney Airport, were well worth it. The Big Corkscrew, which was created by the captivating David Ball and installed in 2015, proved to be whimsical, offbeat and, dare I say it, fermented in melancholy. A love letter to alcohol dependency, if you will.
“That’s lovely,” I muttered to myself after an appropriate period of admiring the Corkscrew. “But I have a Big Thirst, so where’s the Big Wine Bottle?”
The Turn of the Screw
Imagine my disappointment to discover that Bendooley wines – despite tantalising the tastebuds with zesty notes of plum and cherry – are served in teeny tiny 750ml bottles. Us Noo Yawkers like to drink out of 44 gallon drums, so that just wouldn’t do.
Trembling uncontrollably, I scoured the estate’s luxurious grounds for for a bottle large enough to quench my cravings. Finally, a kind soul revealed that the nearest Big Bottles were in Pokolbin and Rutherglen – too far for me to travel to before immigration officials could track me down.
Fortunately I was able to hitchhike to Australia’s cultural hub, Dan Murphy’s, to purchase the finest flagon of goon I could find. Only the freshest and most flavourful viño would do.
Oh, who am I kidding? I’d guzzle methylated spirits out of a windsock if it came down to it – hick!
The rest of the afternoon is a deplorable blur of alcoholic excess, as I well and truly wore out my welcome at Bendooley. After crashing a wedding and knocking over the three-tiered Boho-inspired cake I was, mercifully, ejected from the estate whilst professing my unyielding love to the newly-betrothed.
My sincerest apologies, Malcolm and Rekesh.
Teehee, it’s only me – a brief note from Bigs Bardot
Buenos noches, Land of the Bigs fanatics! It is I, the inimitable Bigs Bardot. I had a bit of cheeky fun writing this entry in character as my alter-ego, Bigs von Bubbles, and took a little creative license for humorous effect.
What I didn’t embelish, however, is how much I enjoyed my visit to Bendooley Estate.
Nary a drop of alcohol has passed my supple lips, so I am unable to report on the fine range of Bendooley wines, but the charcuterie board, with its sumptuous selection of cured meats and homemade pickles, was like heaven on earth. Pair that with attentive service and rustic pastoral views, and you have the recipe for a ‘vintage’ afternoon.
What a corker!
