I am the Generalissimo!

Let me begin by saying how much I enjoy writing wine reviews while actually consuming the beverage in question. Yeah, so my typing skills go south rather fast, but it makes for a much more entertaining evening.

“Quit bogarting the box!” the Generalissimo said. Well, maybe he slurred it just a bit. We’d been going at it for a few hours.

“Kiss my ass!” I said.

“That’s the spirit!” He slapped me on the back, hard enough to knock the box of Hardy’s 2008 Riesling out of my hands.

I’m a big fan of the Riesling. It’s sweet. It’s nice when chilled, and equally so when not. No one hates Riesling, making it an ideal wine to bring to someone’s house. But mainly, it’s a pleasant drink before, during, and after dinner. Can’t say that about most other wines. Well, except for the fortified ones, but those don’t really count, and they don’t go all that well with paella. Riesling? Lovely with paella.

“Tell them about the wine!”

“I am.” I’m not. My bad.

It’s yellow. It’s slightly sweet, but not like a desert wine, or even an off-dry Riesling. It’s not too tart, not too pungent, and it doesn’t leave my esophagus reaching for the Tums. It’s not the most flavorful wine I’ve ever had, but it’s got alcohol in it. And really, what’s more important than that?

“Tell them about the wine!”

“I did!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Vive a France!”

What he said. The box says that it is, “A refreshing, crisp wine with intense lime and lemon flavor and a soft lingering finish.”

Sure. And I’m the Queen of Norway. The only lemon or lime I tasted came from the Jell-o we had for dinner. The fact is, it’s not going to win any awards for complexity or its subtle nose of citrusy goodness or its palate of mooseberries. It’s simple, it’s easy to dink, and it’s cheap when you think about how many normal bottles are in that Mylar pouch.

Drink it. Don’t drink it. I don’t care. Now leave me alone. The Generalissimo is trying to get Zak the intern to join him in a spirited game of Twister.

“Put your pants back on you crazy bastard!” I yelled. Ah, screw it. Where’s that box of wine?

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 14th, 2009 at 07:08 and is filed under boxed wine. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.