In some ways Port is a most English drink – all tradition, endurance and establishment. Port for me also has the extra allure of all my favourite wines – those improbable offspring of invention and necessity. It’s also (I feel) a respectable outlet for my ridiculously sweet tooth. This strong, luscious, heady wine is from a most singular and remote place. Even the most seasoned vineyard visitor gasps at their first sight of the wild, hot, vertiginous Douro. Most paradoxes are beautiful, and the combination of these stony slopes, with their gloriously unfamiliar vine varieties and a most English sensibility - and names - makes Port one of my favourite wines. Port as we know it was born from the chronic Anglo-French scrapping of the 17 th and 18 th centuries. French imports of pretty much everything, including wine, were banned by Charles II in 1667. England needed a new source of wine. Our old friend Portugal was poised. The two nations had agreed mutually b...
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