Inaugural gong proves time is on Hunter's side

Some things are best left in the realms of childhood. Things like stubbed toes, skinned knees, loose teeth, nosebleeds and knickerbockers, which  remind me of a time when I tore around the streets of Takapau, either barefoot or on my Raleigh 20, sporting the latest 80s fashion according to those gigantic Butterick pattern books my mother used to covet.
Another part of my childhood I'd rather forget  came back to haunt me this morning when I woke up with an ear infection.
My sisters and I were cursed with ear infections when we were little and it drove my mother mad - "they'll grow out of it", Doctor Broderick used to say, but today the pain was as raw and piercing as it was when I was 7.
Eating hurt, sleeping hurt, even sipping a glass of wine hurt - not good, especially when you have a column to produce.
But  though my ability to cope with being crook has not improved with age, the good people at Hunter's Wines are justifiably chuffed that their rieslings have done the exact opposite.
A set of three Hunter's Marlborough  rieslings from 2004, 2007 and 2010 have earned the top prize at the Royal Easter Wine Show, taking the inaugural Heritage Shield.
The new category at the show has been introduced to identify and reward wines that have the proven capacity to develop grace and complexity over time. For the first time in New Zealand, this national wine competition offers consumers a guide to the cellaring potential of such wines.
"New Zealand  rieslings have always had lengthy cellaring potential and it is very pleasing that this new award recognises wines made in a style that consumers can cellar confidently," said Gary Duke,  chief  winemaker at Hunter's Wines.
Hunter's has been making  riesling since the winery's inception in 1982 and this award is a seal of approval, as well as  showing confidence in New Zealand wines' ageing potential.
Quality, not quantity,  is an adage that Hunter's has endorsed for 30 years, taking out more than 160  gold  medals and 30 trophies for its wines over the years.
Rules of engagement
Hands up anyone who's ever nervously stood in a wine shop trying to pick a bottle to take to a dinner party? Hands up anyone who's spent far too much time and  money on said bottle?
Your choice will, of course, say screeds about you personally. Too cheap and you'll never be invited back. Too expensive and you risk appearing arrogant and snobby.
Hands up anyone who's been left gutted because their precious bottle got shoved to the back of the breakfast bar while the hosts served their own cheaper (and often nastier) wine?
What does one say? "Umm, thanks for dinner, now can I have my wine back please?" Or, for the less patient: "You peasants! Can you not see that I spent my last dollar choosing the perfect wine in order to impress you all with my impeccable taste and slick sense of style? And you reward me by not even having the decency to open it!  You can take your Tasmanian ocean trout and kumara crumble, you cretins, and ..." Well, you know the rest.
Clearly it's good manners to front up with a bottle of wine, but it's bad manners to open it yourself and extremely uncouth to take it home with you.
So how to deal with this dilemma? The first rule of scouting - and social drinking - is  "be prepared".
This means that if you bring a warm bottle of white wine - no matter how pricey and rare -  it serves you right if your hosts choose to hang on to it and serve one from their own fridge. So if it's white, chill it or lose it.
If it's red, you could cut the foil and pull the cork before you leave home and tell your hosts that you've been letting it breathe for a couple of hours "so it should be ready to drink right now".
You could also mention (as you hand your bottle over) that you can't wait to try the wine because it was given to you by your late nana (bless her) and it was her dying wish that you enjoy it the next time you went out for dinner. Just remember to sniff, wipe an imaginary tear and cross your chest when your glass is poured.
However, if you can't help but bring along a cheap (and possibly nasty) bottle, make sure it's hidden in a bag so you can take it to the kitchen yourself and, in secret agent style, swiftly swap it with someone else's.
For goodness sake...
Those of you who enjoy the delicate, rich, clean complexity of the signature beverage of Japan will be saddened to hear that many of Japan's premier sake breweries have disappeared in the wake of the tragic multiple disasters that rocked  that country in March.
This ancient alcoholic beverage is brewed using just rice and water, yet the results come in a smorgasbord of styles.
Although here in New Zealand we do not consume a great deal of sake, I certainly cannot contemplate drinking anything else when I go to a Japanese restaurant - so the thought of one of my favourite tipples becoming harder to find, or more expensive to enjoy - is a tad worrisome.
The destruction to the sake industry has been extensive in terms of damage and loss of life.
According to Decanter.com, the worst-hit breweries are located in Miyagi  Prefecture, the epicentre of the earthquake, as well as in Iwate and Fukushima - the location of the seriously damaged nuclear power plant.
Among the list of badly damaged breweries are Suisen from Iwate prefecture, which was entirely destroyed with the loss of some 11 employees, and Hakurakusei in Miyagi prefecture, which was not hit by the tsunami but was destroyed by the earthquake.
There are more than 100 sake breweries in the three prefectures, many of which produce some of Japan's highest-quality, aromatic, elegant sakes.
Repairing the breweries is just one part of the rocky road ahead for Japan's sake industry, with the real challenge in 2011 being the planting and tending of rice fields.
There are also serious concerns that  nuclear fallout from the Fukushima plant may affect the water supply so vital for sake production.