In the name of wine I drink all sorts of liquids that claim
they were once grapes. Today was no exception. As Spring draws ever closer
threatening Winter with its milder climate, I find myself reaching for the
lighter things in life. That big blustery Shiraz stays in the wine fridge at
work stays put and out comes the Sauvignon and Chenin Blancs. Unfortunately the
pickings were slim at the office and myself and a team of experts (I use this
term loosely for fear of their being a qualification war) were supplied with
the following, of which we give our honest assessment:
These descriptions may offend but, we
were ‘under the influence’.
D’aria Music
Sauvignon Blanc 2011
Sprightly and gay was what I wanted, insipid and lack-lustre
was what I got. Less fresh grass and more raw courgette. Less fresh exotic
fruit and more ‘made in China’ plastic fruit.
Fort Simon Chenin
Blanc 2009
I find that wine has the ability to bring out my more
descriptive of expressions and my first thought was ‘this tastes like my dead
Grandma’s Arctic Fox fur stole.’
It was beautifully golden and there were hints of pineapple
and the potential for a special late harvest but it proceeded to produce moth
balls that clung to your tongue preventing the ability to understand anything
those who sat next to you were saying.
It’s something you’d find in a retirement home behind a
glass case that has never been opened because some old dear lost the key in her
bed pan.
Hoopenburg Chardonnay
2011
If I had fillings, they would have melted. There was enough
acid in it to strip a tank and possibly the bodies inside it. As we each tried
to compose ourselves and prevent our stomachs from curling up and dying, we
could all taste Cod Liver Oil and no not the healthy ‘take one a day’ tablets,
but the oil of a viciously slaughtered cod-fish.
I strongly believe that had I been in possession of a bottle
of this wine when I was repainting my house, I would have used it as thinners.
