How To Make Old Wine Palatable Again

A recent comb through the larder produced a forgotten bottle of Fergusson Shiraz 1999. This stuff, I think, was never meant to stay alive till now. Unreasonably optimistic nonetheless, I got it opened and tasted it… hmmm… not bad, no, no horns and tails and teeth to bite back… but there was no way Mr. Manx and I could get through the whole bottle. Yet, our thrifty streaks balked at chucking it down the sink.

I put on my thinking cap.

I decided to make jelly. Woo-hoo!

We went to the supermarket and got some konnyaku jelly powder. This comes in 10g packs which cost a dollar-something. It’s super-fine white powder that comes up in drifts when you pour it out, and looks like this:

On a side note, konnyaku comes from a plant and is also known as devil’s tongue (how delectably sinister), voodoo lily (perfect name for a Marvel Comics character) and konjac (now we fall back to earth with a prosaic thud). Some years back, konjac jelly hit the headlines when several kids and old folks choked to death on it. You see, this jelly, unlike gelatine, does not melt in the mouth or smoosh under light pressure. You have to chew it good and proper before swallowing. Manufacturing companies have paid sums to the tune of US$50 million to affected families. Subsequently, konjac was banned in Europe as a dangerous food additive.

I don’t know. It’s not like it’s poisonous, and technically, one could choke to death on practically anything. There’s still plenty of it where I live, and it does come with warnings about choking. It has a lovely texture, and has almost no calories (and that clinches it). So, while I have teeth and my rational faculties, I have no problems about the existence of this goop.

Back to my jelly.

The konnayaku package called for 250g of fine sugar to be dry-mixed with the konnayaku powder. Freaked out by the calories, I only put in 200g, figuring that some fruit cocktail would add to the sweetness later. It was still a big bowl of sugar.

Putting that poison aside, I poured the whole bottle of Shiraz into the pan. As the konnyaku demanded 950ml of liquid, and the bottle only contained 750ml, I topped it up with 200ml of plain water.

Praying that the pan would not explode, I turned on the heat. No explosion… but I started wondering about the package instructions to boil the liquid. I mean, if you boil wine, there goes the alcohol, and therefore the point of the whole thing, right? Hmmm.

I compromised by turning the heat to low, adding the sugar-konnyaku early and gradually, and stirring the heck out of the mess with an egg-beater. I also kept my nose firmly in the fumes. Waste not, want not, eh?

As the mixture thickened and bubbled lazily, I ladled chunks of fruit cocktail into various receptacles. In lieu of actual jelly moulds, I used random bowls and a muffin tray. You need to get a little creative when resources are short. Then in went the konnyaku mixture on top.

I briefly considered using this ice tray too, but reflected that the result might look rather silly.

After the red gunk was all bunged into the fridge, I cleaned the pan, which was fun, because you can peel the sludge off and eat it. Check out this crazy strip of red wine jelly, peeled off the circumference of the pan. You could do the Lady and Tramp spaghetti stunt with this strip.

Two hours later, voila! Red wine fruit jelly. And a fridge reeking of alcohol. I overdid the fruit in the muffin tin a little, but it was still really good. Yumz! No problem with the sweetness, but the jelly could have been a tad firmer. Next time i would use 50ml less water… which would also increase the potency of this jelly. Cheers!