At first blush: coq au vin and pinot rosé

Recently I was up north in the big smoke - Auckland.

I went to visit friends, to discover the finest South Indian masala dosa in Kingsland, to walk the volcanoes of Devonport, and take in a concert. Simon and Garfunkel.

I discovered them at about the same time I learned to make "Ponco de Crema", a heavenly and potent rum-rich Trinidadian punch which shares some similarities with Baillies and heavily fortified egg-nog, only it is much more moreish.

Together they occupy space in that heightened sensory vault soaked in nostalgia and dripping with the intensity of adolescent "firsts".

More of both some other time, perhaps, but for now, rosé: the predominant wine offering in the supermarket in those days, fitting for its colonial legacy, not least in the names of the cricketers who turned out for Trinidad and Tobago in the late 60s - Willie Rodriguez (a more beguiling leggie you'd never see these days), Richard Da Souza, Larry and Sheldon Gomes, to name two or three - was Portugal's Mateus Rosé.

An inoffensive little drop it was for the young learner drinker, too, typically consumed over Christmas dinner or New Year's Day roast, on which occasions through all manner of connivance, and who knows perhaps a little bribery, my father had managed to get hold of a rare and precious leg of New Zealand lamb.

Mateus had a little bit of fine-bubbled fizz about it, more than the barely visible tickle on the tongue that some winemakers deliberately and elegantly cultivate (try a Pegagus Bay Riesling 2008, for a zesty, lemon-honeyish but nicely acidic example of the spritzig effect in which a little of the carbon dioxide from the fermentation process is retained in the bottle), but less than the full-blown bubbly.

Still, a glass or two, was enough to make a young man blush - especially if the guests happened to include similarly aged members of the opposite sex.

I was reminded of my first wine experiences and in particular of rosé recently on account of a little debate that I have with myself every time I throw together a coq au vin.

White wine or red? I'm sure the classical cooks have the correct answer and I'm betraying all sorts of barbaric tendancies by even revealing the dilemma, but since the lazy cook tends to fly by what's in the cupboard, or the cellar, I'm well beyond such help.

In any case, it occured to me as I assembled the ingredients, that with a rosé you could have a bob each way.

And it so happened that I had to hand a bottle of fine Domain Road Pinot Noir Rosé 2008.

Now, some people tend to think that you shouldn't "waste" good wine by putting it in your food, but I am of the opinion that a good wine will make a fine meal even better, whether it's in the food or out.

So saving sufficient to accompany the meal, I sloshed a good part of it into and over the chicken as sight, smell and anticipation of the finished result demanded.

Besides, it was a good distance to summer and I didn't fancy waiting that long to get my chops into this little tipple.

Domain Road is a single vineyard winery in Bannockburn.

I'm not familiar with all of their range, but if the rosé is anything to go by then it's doing a pretty fine job.

It has more body than your normal "pink" and some of the typical pinot flavour notes without the weight and depth of the full-blown red.

So you can, obviously drink it as a summery aperitif, but it's no shrinking violet as a dinner companion either - especially if you want something with a bit more oomph than sav blanc, but are allergic to woody chardonnays, and "over" the pinot gris fad.

Here's a run down on my coq au vin recipe. You can mix and match ingredients, leave some out or add others to suit.

You should be able to put this together in 15 minutes or so, and then either bake for a couple of hours (about 160 deg C); or put oven on timer to finish cooking for when you arrive home after work.

Chop up a leek and sauté gently in a heavy wide-bottomed casserole dish with a couple of cloves of chopped up garlic, and (optional) two or three slices of bacon and some sliced up mushrooms (about five mins).

Remove from casserole and add to pan lightly dusted chicken pieces (6-8 legs are good, thighs even better, though more expensive) to brown, turning so they don't stick to the dish (another five mins).

Return leeks, mushrooms, bacon etc to the casserole and add a litre or so of chicken stock (Campbell's is excellent) and a good slosh or two - perhaps a couple of cups - of vino (another five).

Season with a sprinkling of dried mixed herbs, a bay leaf if you have one handy, and chuck in the oven.

Excellent with baked potatoes.

Thicken if you must before serving though I prefer it the way it comes.

The reluctant drinker finds that this recipe works best when executed with a glass of the "vin" of the hour in hand.

Bon appetit!