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Rosés to share in the sun, CabFranc on the go, and a Malbec not to be wasted on a stag do

Rosés to share in the sun, CabFranc on the go, and a Malbec not to be wasted on a stag do

Illustration by Charlotte Trounce
I f you walk down Hatton Garden in central London, you will encounter a slew of jewellery shops, a Pret, one Dickensian pub down an alleyway. You might also witness the occasional brawl, the semi-regular police horse appearance, and the offshoots of the hectic food market one road over. If you are lucky you will also spot some bookish types scuttling along the pavement, almost certainly on their way to work in the NS offices.
It was a rare treat, in recent weeks, to have some great wine to share with the aforementioned bookish types. First, thank you to the jauntily named Yapp Brothers for sending over six bottles for us to try. In a feat of modesty and temperance, the case sustained the NS for the best part of two weeks.
One languid Friday and the atmosphere on Hatton Garden was like a Tennyson play – stifling, on edge, soporific. It felt only right to decant the 2024 house rosé into tumblers and hand them out in the office. It had been chilling since the morning and was a nice colour, not exactly pale but thankfully not lurid Ribena either – a fairly standard Grenache and Merlot blend.
Rosé, more than its red and white counterparts, is a context-dependent beast. Just how fish and chips are best enjoyed in view of the sea (rather than under a bridge on the M25, say), rosé should be enjoyed as an aperitif sur la terrasse along the Mediterranean. Well, how about in a fluorescently lit office in Farringdon with an NS associate editor, commissioning editor and business editor? No match for the romance afforded by the vesperal light of the French Riviera… but we thought it worked great: light, unobtrusive, red fruits with an ever-so-barely-there touch of minerality. Keeping rosé on ice on a sunny Friday isn't standard procedure here. But maybe it should be.
Later, we found ourselves on the Central Line on our way to east London for drinks in a colleague's garden (how collegiate!). Stuffed in one bag was the Domaine des Oullières 'Harmonie' Blanc 2024, a Provence white enjoyed as we perched on garden furniture in the sun (a fate unfortunately denied to the rosé). This is a Vermentino heavy blend (Sauvignon Blanc makes up the rest). It's good, not particularly light but fragrant and… was that fennel? The real heads will tell you something like this is best served with seafood. I found it just as successful with takeaway pizza. High, low, and all that. Also stowed in our bags was the 2021 Château Fouquet from Saumur, pure Cabernet Franc and – as the merchants recommend – better enjoyed CHARLOTTE TROUNCE with a bit of age. Cab Franc has a tendency towards the vegetal. But no such problems here.
Meanwhile, we had packed another NS staffer off to a stag do in Brighton that evening, screw-top Malbec in hand (touch of class…). It came with good reviews, in the only way a Malbec like that can come with good reviews: jammy, uncomplicated, probably good for a stag do.
Fast-forward a few days and I received a wonderful text from the arts desk at 7pm on a Tuesday. 'Is there wine here and can we have it,' they wrote to me, before promptly following up with a simple: 'It's urgent.' I have good news for you, arts desk: yes… and yes! They picked out a 2021 Côtes du Rhône and sent me the tasting notes over WhatsApp: peppery, woody, spicy. This is just as you might expect from a wine with this spec. And they told me it was delicious, just as you might expect from a wine with this spec.
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At some point in 2023 – bear with me – something strange happened: a sweet, pale green leafy vegetable by the name of hispi cabbage took over every menu in town. And almost out of nowhere, hispi was general all over London. I contend that viniculture's hispi counterpart is Picpoul de Pinet: it burst on the scene and asserted itself on the wine lists of London's middlebrow restaurants with great, almost admirable, force. It's ubiquitous: few can explain why. But what I can tell you is that the Picpoul in this case is a very good example of the form: citrussy, saline, easy going. And so, there is the New Statesman's editorial staff's whistlestop tour through this selection. Good for parties in the garden, urgent office emergencies, slow and hot Fridays on Hatton Garden, stag dos in Brighton. I think the word for that is versatile.
By Finn McRedmond
Take advantage of offers on these wines and more, exclusively available to New Statesman readers, by ordering online today.
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I Watched The Bear S4 To See How Many Times I Laughed - The Answer Will Surprise You
I Watched The Bear S4 To See How Many Times I Laughed - The Answer Will Surprise You

Graziadaily

time25-07-2025

  • Graziadaily

I Watched The Bear S4 To See How Many Times I Laughed - The Answer Will Surprise You

Last year, I made the mistake of starting season three of The Bear after returning home from Glastonbury. Why I felt compelled to do such a thing I can't be sure, but it quickly sent me into a state of discombobulation, which wasn't helped by the fact the first episode played as a long, sad, panic-ridden music video. The Bear is the type of TV show that makes you want to press pause and willingly unload the dishwasher. Watching it feels like the sky has never been blue. I'd go as far as to ascribe it an almost Dickensian quality of bleakness. Yet, in 2023, it picked up six Emmys in the comedy category, including best comedy series and outstanding writing for a comedy series. It beat Ted Lasso , The Marvelous Mrs Maisel , Jury Duty and Abbott Elementary amongst other shows. The FX series has won 21 Emmys and five Golden Globes as a comedy in total. Naturally, given the reasons just laid out, this is perplexing to a lot of people – including fans of the show. The Bear is an undeniably engaging drama, even if the dishwasher still beckons at certain points, but a comedy it is not. In fact, I'd argue it's become less and less funny as the seasons have gone on. To prove my point, I conducted a laugh count experiment while watching season four of The Bear , and the results may or may not shock you. What they won't do, regrettably, is make you laugh. Jeremy Allen White, Ebon Moss-Bachrach and Ayo Edebiri at the premiere of season 3 of FX's The Bear. (Photo: Getty) Episode one: Groundhogs Laugh count: 0 The title of this episode neatly sets up the narrative for the rest of the season – a rinse and repeat of season three storylines that will leave you with a heavy feeling in your chest. Despite successfully reopening as a fine dining restaurant, The Bear (the restaurant) received criticism for its inconsistent menu and chaotic atmosphere in a Chicago Tribute review and the team has two months to turn things around to make the business viable. There is a character called Uncle Computer, but that's about as close as we got to a crack of a smile. Episode two: Soubise Laugh count: 0 The sterile kitchen lights are on, but comedy isn't home. The second episode sees Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) and Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) begin to simplify the menu as she grapples with another job offer. All staff remain miserable and stressed. There is little relief except for Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) who quotes Polish mathematician Jacob Bronowski in his pep talk to the chefs: 'The hand is the cutting edge of the mind.' At the end of the episode, Carmy is on the phone to his sister Natalie, who has recently given birth, and she pleads with him to come and meet the baby. It doesn't take long before it's post-partum Natalie consoling Carmie because, after subjecting his family to years of stress and chaos to turn their sandwich shop into a Michelin-chasing restaurant, he's realising he's falling out of love with cooking. Episode three: Scallop Laugh count: 0 Each character's inner turmoil continues, albeit slowly, to thud along in the third episode. Ebraheim (Edwin Lee Gibson) discusses how to franchise The Bear's sandwich window, the only profitable part of the business, while Marcus (Lionel Boyce) asks Carmy for more help on the dessert station despite the no-hire policy. It climaxes with Carmy running to the house of his ex-girlfriend Claire (Molly Gordon) – who broke up with him after overhearing him call their relationship a 'waste of time' during the soft launch of his restaurant – to confront his past. They both cry on the doorstep outside her house on a dark, rainy Chicago evening. Pathetic fallacy. Episode four: Worms Laugh count: 0.5 (a titter) Unsurprisingly, given that it centres Sydney, episode four brings some much-need light to the series. The chef visits her cousin Chantel to get her hair done and is left along with her daughter TJ while Chantel runs errands. It's an endearing, smile-worthy interaction as Sydney slowly disarms TJ, cooks her the best pasta dish of her life and encourages her to attend a sleepover with her friends from her old school. Sydney also uses an extended sleepover metaphor to ask TJ whether she should stay put at The Bear or accept the other job offer. TJ says the house she's in now sounds 'stinky' and Sydney says, 'I'd say it's energetically musty'. This earned one titter. Episode five: Replicants Laugh count: 0 Episode five seens the return of Luca (Will Poulter) to assist Marcus on desserts, which brings a bit of excitement to the kitchen, including some flirting from Sydney and a few playful attempts at his English accent. Still no actual laughs though. If things weren't hellish enough at work with smaller budgets, fewer ingredients and an erratic, depressive boss, Sydney receives a call just before service to say her dad had a heart attack. That's The Bear for you. Episode six: Sophie Laugh count: 0 In this episode, Edebiri delivers a heartbreaking performance in the hospital waiting room as she confides in Claire, who helped her father recover, about the guilt she feels for making him worry about her. It's an agonising, relatable and a stark reminder of how fragile life can be and how we could all do more to appreciate our parents. Not exactly full of gags. Elsewhere in the episode, the staff debate whether to go to Richie's ex-wife Tiff's wedding. Episode seven: Bears Laugh count: 0 In between heavy conversations, emotional heart to hearts and explosive arguments, there is a cute moment when everyone gets under a table to convince Tiff and Richie's daughter to stop hiding. That's all there is to say on the comedy front. Episode eight: Green Laugh count: 0 Sydney decides to call Shapiro and reject the superior job offer and he tells her she's making the biggest mistake of her life. Otherwise it's more of the same, in other words, not particularly ha-ha. Episode nine: Tonnato Laugh count: 0 In the penultimate episode of the season, Carmy pays his estranged mother Donna (Jamie Lee Curtis) a visit to drop off a photo album and, one year sober, she breaks down in tears to say she feels responsible for her other son Mikey's suicide and that she's sorry for everything she's done. It's about as funny as you'd imagine, but both performances from Curtis and Allen White are gut wrenchingly good. Doughnut pioneer Marcus receives the news that he's been added to the class of Best New Chefs by Food & Wine . Validation at last. Episode ten: Goodbye Laugh count: 0 A slow, brutal finale that moves the story along for the first time in ten episodes. Sydney finds out Carmy changed the partnership agreement to remove his name, revealing his plans to leave the restaurant and, he claims, stop cooking altogether. In a post-shift argument out the back door of the restaurant, Sydney confronts him and they have an emotional, overdue conversation about their future, resulting in Sydney accepting that the kitchen will soon be hers to run alone. Richie then joins them and he and Carmy address the tension that's been bubbling between them since Mikey's death. Sydney asks for Richie to be made a partner and Carmy and Natalie accept. It becomes clear that season five will be preoccupied with Carmy's decision to leave the profession, but the fate of The Bear is still unclear. What is clear is that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. Total laughs throughout entire season: 0.5 Is The Bear billed as a comedy because it's scared of the competition in the drama category? Who knows. But awards shows as well as their boards and voting members have a lot to answer for. If one titter in ten episodes is a comedy, then I'm the Queen of Sheba. Nikki Peach is a writer at Grazia UK, working across entertainment, TV and news. She has also written for the i, i-D and the New Statesman Media Group and covers all things pop culture for Grazia (treating high and lowbrow with equal respect).

Commuter bursts into tears on busy train as everyone has same reaction
Commuter bursts into tears on busy train as everyone has same reaction

Daily Mirror

time24-07-2025

  • Daily Mirror

Commuter bursts into tears on busy train as everyone has same reaction

Getting upset in public is something many hope to avoid. One woman boarded a busy train for her commute home but then broke down in tears and everyone was left saying the same thing A commuter has shared the 'humbling' moment she broke down in tears on a packed commuter train and it left everyone saying the same thing. The train commute is home to many sights and cliches, from people taking up a spare seat with their bags and some passengers playing loud music, to overcrowding and arguments. ‌ Of course, sometimes, the train can be a peaceful spot to gaze out of the window, read a book or the newspaper, or idly scroll through your favourite phone apps guilt-free. One commuter was upset after checking her emails and spotting a rejection for a job she really wanted. ‌ Hannah Lowther is an actor and stage performer with more than one million followers on TikTok, where she regularly shares insight into her life on and off the stage. ‌ In a recent TikTok video, which has so far amassed more than 650K views, Hannah can be seen sitting on the train crying, her eyes red and glassy, as she tries to maintain her composure. Over the top of the footage, she added the words: 'Getting a rejection email on a busy commuter train home with just an old Pret tissue from the bottom of my bag is a severely humbling experience'. In the comments section, Hannah added: 'SO aware that it's never that deep - rejection is redirection'. ‌ Fellow TikTok users were keen to share their thoughts, with the vast majority stressing the importance of allowing one's emotions out freely. Others were keen to recognise rejection as a part of life, particularly in arts-based industries and professions. One person said: 'This was me on Wednesday. MUST KEEP TELLING MYSELF IS REDIRECTION [crying laughing emoji and heart emoji] sending love babes'. ‌ Another said: 'Rejection is protection, trust me it'll hurt now but you'll be thankful why in months/years to come'. A third commented: 'Can we please normalise this reaction - every time I get a rejection, I have a cry and am sad about it for a bit then pick myself back up and move on. ‌ 'But the amount of comments I get about not being able to handle rejection, and maybe I need to pick a different profession p***es me off. Let me be sad for a bit!' Someone else agreed: 'It's absolutely ok to have a little cry after rejection especially if it was for a job (or in your case a show) that you really wanted. Take time to be sad so you can move forward with new enthusiasm for something else'. Another TikTok user said: 'I'm so sorry! Your reaction is valid. To anyone reading this, you're ALLOWED to cry when you get a rejection. It doesn't make you weak or not able to cope. Cry, dust yourself off and keep pushing on.' Tissue brand Kleenex UK added: 'Sending so many tissues'.

I tried an 'espresso lemonade' — can it match the beloved iced latte?
I tried an 'espresso lemonade' — can it match the beloved iced latte?

Metro

time16-07-2025

  • Metro

I tried an 'espresso lemonade' — can it match the beloved iced latte?

Whatever happened to a classic G&T? In the past year or so, it seems people are becoming increasingly bored by standard drink options, and are on the search for something more thrilling. It started with Dua Lipa mixing Diet Coke, pickle juice, and jalapeño brine. People declared the drink 'evil' on social media, but the trend spiralled into something much more sinister. Since Dua braved to share her guilty pleasure, influencers have revealed their own recipes: thinkk beer and Sprite, chocolate milk and vodka, and cucumber-infused gin. Others have dabbled with more extreme recipes. Arguably, the worst are the blue cheese and kimchi filthy martinis cropping up on TikTok (we have to draw the line somewhere). The latest concoction? An espresso lemonade. The Washington Post has declared it 'summer's most unexpected refresher'. And so, full of scepticism, I decided to find out for myself. With the London weather being unusually hot this year, I've had to swap my usual lattes for iced ones, but I might be the only person who just can't get on board. I just can't get past the bitter cold taste and have to mask it completely by ordering iced coffees with unreasonably expensive syrupy add-ons. But espresso lemonades might have just opened an entirely new world for me. The recipe is really as simple as it sounds. Order an espresso, and mix it together in a glass with ice and lemonade. I sourced my espresso from Pret and diet lemonade from M&S. Once I poured the lemonade in, it immediately fizzed up and looked quite similar to a Coke float, minus the ice cream. My first sip was interesting and bitter. A second later, I realised I stupidly hadn't mixed the two together. With a quick stir, the sharp coffee flavour blended into the refreshing lemonade. The taste wasn't much different from a regular lemonade, but with a familiar coffee aftertaste. I would definitely opt for a sugary lemonade over a diet next time, to sweeten it up a bit more. It's still much more refreshing than an iced coffee, and after trying it, I'm not sure I can ever go back to the cold milky nightmare mixture. This was lighter, and much more drinkable. Taking a sip of the unique concoction certainly raised a few eyebrows at Metro HQ, but after forcing one of my colleagues to try it, she agreed it wasn't half as strange as she expected. 'I expected to hate this arguably ungodly concoction, but surprisingly, I didn't,' Metro Lifestyle's Eleanor Noyce said. 'It needs near-constant mixing to make sure the lemonade and espresso shot aren't separated, but I thought it was the perfect blend of sweet and tangy. 'I wouldn't necessarily drink it unless I really needed an afternoon pick-me-up, though. For now, I'll probably stick to a classic iced latte.' And Metro's Lifestyle Editor, Kristina Beanland, an iced americano lover during the summer months, was equally surprised. 'I really thought this would be disgusting, but it's actually pretty decent. Like a fizzy coffee, if you will. 'It's honestly like nothing I've ever tasted before, a citrus addition to my beloved iced coffees. I'm not sure I'll be rushing to have another one though.' The recipe is simple, but if you want a step-by-step: Fill a cup with plenty of ice. Pour in a lemonade of your choice over ice until it covers 3/4 of the cup. Add one double-shot of espresso. If you're feeling fancy, garnish with it a lemon on the side or some mint. And if it's too bitter, add in some sugar. Make sure to mix it together before drinking. The drink may seem like a recent invention, hopping on the back of bizarre drink trends on TikTok, but coffee shops have been serving it for years, and the original lemon, sugar and coffee recipe actually dates back to the 19th century. An ancestor of the modern-day iced coffee, Mazagran Coffee is thought to have been created in the 1840s by French colonial troops in Algeria. The soldiers were stationed at the Mazagran fortress near Mostaganem, and mixed shot coffee with cold water and syrup to combat the heat. More Trending The drink later became popular in Portugal, parts of France and Austria, and now it's often served with lemon, sugar water and sometimes rum. The UK high street hasn't caught on to it yet, so don't expect to find any on Pret's menu. However, there's nothing stopping you from ordering a coffee and lemonade an independent coffee shop and mixing it yourself. View More » I can't promise you won't get any strange looks for it, though. Do you have a story to share? Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@ MORE: Urgent recall of Dubai chocolate that doesn't declare it contains peanuts MORE: Deaths, fires and prison breaks: The mystery behind the eerie Annabelle doll MORE: 'Hidden gem' crowned the UK's top budget-friendly beach to visit this summer Your free newsletter guide to the best London has on offer, from drinks deals to restaurant reviews.

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