The Whine About Wine
Why do people get all pretentious and poncey over wine?
I mean, you get looked down on by the Wine Snobs if you buy a bottle that costs less than £5, or if you serve the wrong kind of wine with your meal!
WTF is that about?
People actually WANT to be ripped off and pay 7 million times more for a bottle than it’s actually worth! Apparently this means your wine is ‘better’ than a £4 bottle from Aldi.
A screw-top bottle, too! Eat that!
And wine with different meals? I sort of agree, up to a point.
And that point is that you can drink ANY fucking wine with ANY fucking meal.
You know, like any other type of drink that you’re not being a twat about?
I do have a few infallible techniques for selecting the best wine, though.
Number one is to pick something that’s on sale. They’ve finally realised that their wine tastes like ass, and they should try to sell some at the same price as everyone else.
So you’re £6 bottle of suv-ig-non blank is worth £12, and will impress your idiot friends! Yay you!
Number two is the best picking technique you will ever learn.
My Aunty Joyce taught me this a few years back, and it’s awesome!
You pick up your chosen bottle, and shove your fingers up the bottom of the bottle.
If you can give it a good fingering – take it home. Like a teenager at the school disco.
Ok, so my Aunt may not have said that last bit, but it does seem that the best tasting wines are the ones with the biggest recess in the bottom of the bottle. Seriously – try it.
And number three is to check the alcohol content. Anything over 11.5% is just about scraping through to ‘passable’ – but you should be able to get something over 12%.
This is because all wine is just any old shit the, err, Wine Farmer could grab, that he’s fermented for a bit. So it tastes like random fermented shit. I’ve had homemade Tea wine, and parsnip, and rhubarb and probably dead sheep and antifreeze from French Vinyards.
You want to at least ensure that the wine you took twenty fucking minutes in Tescos choosing will get you pissed.
A few (large) glasses of a 13% wine will get you over the sensation of your mouth turning itself inside out because of the fragrant bouquet of bollocks.
And don’t even get me started on Champagne. It’s carbonated wine, ffs! ALL of it. Just because it’s made in one region of France doesn’t mean they should charge more than some cunt with a a Soda Stream and a bottle of Blue Nun!
And as proof that those who know everything about wine actually know absolutely nothing – In Spain once, we witnessed a man who’d bought his date a bottle of fine sparkling wine that he’d undoubtedly paid lots of money for.
He shrugged as he opened it for her, telling her it was Italian, and she looked suitably impressed.
I, on the other hand, was nearly crying with laughter as I watched them sipping on their bottle of Lambrini…