A bottle of cold duck

Do you remember a wine called Cold Duck? Now that you think about it, don’t admit it, just remember it with a wry smile. For those who don’t know or haven’t heard of it or just wish they didn’t remember it, Cold Duck was a ‘Sparkling Light Red’ sparkling wine from Kaiser Stuhl. I can put the quotes because I have the same bottle sitting in front of me as I write.

Now Cold Duck was extremely popular in the sixties with large numbers of people finding the old Leibfraumilch to be a little old hat and it tasted a bit like sugary old hat. So we replaced the mothers little helper, there were steed names, but I won’t admit I know them with a bubbly drop of cold duck.

A whole generation of up-and-coming groovers drank the drink and the sound of Cold Duck corks hitting cheap plastic lamps was heard across the country every Saturday night.

But Cold Duck soon became the salesmen’s dead duck and was never seen again. Some of those arguably less discerning drinkers are said to have gone straight down the Grange Hermitage route to sobriety, some going downhill with less gusto, with Passion Fruit Pop, and others simply drowned in Rough Red or at least until the appearance of Chardonnay.

Then, in a dusty cupboard in the Sydney suburbs of Arncliffe in 1999, a little miracle happened, I could have gilded the Lilly with the rest of the story and said it was in circulation all that time, but I just can’t.

There it was and it had waited for its moment of glory for thirty-five years under a kitchen sink cabinet no less. We found it when my wife’s parents were selling her house in Arncliffe. Naturally, we lay claim to this true relic of party history and proudly display it in pride of place on our own sideboard.

Our next party started with a bang as usual, but not with the hallowed Cold Duck bang and fizz of a naturally opened bottle of the precious liquid.

The next morning, cleaning up the debris from the previous night’s orgy, I gently lifted the holy bottle from its perch, when I noticed a label on the back of the bottle that was hitherto unlabeled.

The label read (with thanks to the celebrated author, we all celebrate a lot in those days)

THIS RARE WINE SHOULD NOT BE CONSUMED.

YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT TO A PARTY, TAKE THE HOSTS’ GOOD WINE AND LEAVE IT BEHIND AS WE HAVE BEEN MAKING A SUCCESSION OF CHEAP BASTARDS FOR THIRTY YEARS.

PLEASE PASS THIS SACRED TRUST

Only a Cuckoo would think of that, and I treasure that bottle of Cold Duck more than any Grange Hermitage could ever treasure.