Although we pride ourselves on our wine knowledge here at reallycheapwine.com, a few of the finer technical details sometimes leave even us in the dark. Questions like: “What is wine made of?”, “Why does it make me feel so good inside?”, followed by “How come it doesn’t contain more of this ‘alcohol’ stuff?” have been raised in discussion only to be resolved by arduous hours trawling through Wikipedia, translating arcane wine-speak into understandable prose.
Today, we address yet another one of these pressing questions: “What makes wine dry?”
Wikipedia says that the dryness of a wine is “determined by the interaction of several factors, including the amount of sugar in the wine to be sure, but also the relative levels of alcohol, acids, and tannins.”
That, to us, sounded like someone who didn’t know what he was talking about. So, on a vote of four in favour with one abstention, we came to a new definition:
“Wine is made dry by adding to it the honeycombs of bees that have recently been raided by bears.”
Why? Because it sounds right.
Which leads us to this particular wine: “Der Trockene” or “The Dry One.”
“The Dry One” is a pretty apt title ’cause it’s really fucking dry. Tongue to sandpaper, mouth to sandpaper, throat to sandpaper dry. It has too much beehive in it. Way too much beehive. True, it’s not the worst wine you’ve ever had, but how can you be sure when you can’t feel your mouth anymore and it’s trying to eat itself?
Now, we respect the Germans for trying. After so much heckling over the brutally sweet undrinkable syrup they normally produce, their effort in making a wine this dry is laudable and shows frightening efficiency and determination. Well done Germany. However, in the end, they just didn’t pull it off.
Luckily for us, this cheap German white raised some interesting questions and made us think more about what makes wine the glorious beverage we worship daily. We chased some wild geese and arrived, panting, at the truth. And now we have shared that truth with you.
2.49 2.5 @Kaufland
Tastes like a large bottle of slightly crap table wine.
But, in case that’s too vague, I’ll try to elaborate.
You know when you’re with a friend and one of you has brought a bottle of wine to drink and neither of you know if it’s any good? And so you open it and you both take the first sip?
Right. So then your friend says “Well, it’s not bad,” and you nod.
But there’s a funny emphasis on the word “bad” that’s akin to your Mother meeting your girlfriend and saying: “Well, darling, I’m glad she’s not selling herself on the street anymore,” and somehow it doesn’t feel that good inside.
And so you say: “Isn’t that what Granny said about you when you first met?” and you both laugh, realising that we all get through life with our flaws and foibles and that we take what comes to us as it may and do our best to stick it through to the end and make something good out of what’s been given to us, however small.
And you say: “At least in comes in a large bottle.”
And your Mother says: “What, darling? I don’t quite understand.”
And your friend says: “Hey, you were just talking to yourself again.”
And everything gets a bit surreal.
Well, that’s like this wine.
2.49 2 @Kaufland 1L
If cold, plastic bottles of mineral water were still in—sun sweated day—that refreshing,
and just ate a salad too (rocket, post-yoga, pre-meditation).
But this is “The Little Wine Devil,” and we know the plastic’s bad, a slur on the afternoon,
such a delicious wine.
3.99 4 @Kaufland
Reminiscent of the best of the worst cheap Chardonnays, this wine is a bit bitter, not great, bearable. You may think it’s filth but, remember, it’s the best of the filth, so give it the respect it deserves and finish it.
1.79 2.5 @Kaufland
Police cars barrelling past us in Hasenheide, sirens blaring, flashlights blinding eyes …
… flashlights picking out this bright, young, innocent, slightly bitter bottle …
… the drug dealers rounded up.
2.99 3 @Kaiser’s
Sweet without being offensive, like “Have a Nice Day!”….meaning debatable and possibly scorn worthy.
I enjoy both the wine and the phrase for the same reasons though. In the end you realise that, however cloying, the damn thing did end up making you feel warm inside, brought about human contact and was meant in good faith (unlike, of course, “Have a Nice Day!” which, this time, is obviously sarcastic).
Not a bad wine at all.
2.99 3 @Kaufland
Like sucking a freshly mown lawn through a straw, this cheap white wine
starts a bit trashy, a bit young but, once you get underneath the surface, predictable, pleasant and a little shy (if, yes, undeniably grassy). Entering the field as our first Austrian wine, this cheap Grüner Veltliner is not exactly a prize winner, but it could serve very well as an accompaniment to food: donairs, tacos, pizza etc. etc.
1.99 3 @Kaufland
Desperately sweet. Reminds me of American beer. I like Americans—I know some people who’ve met some and have generally said good things about them—and the insistence these Americans have for cold beer is the same insistence I’d have for this wine: You can’t drink it warm because then you’d taste it. Cool this thing down, think of it as a big bottle of dessert wine, and it could be really pleasant.
2.29 2.5 @Kaufland
Tastes like vodka going down, with all the necessarily contemplated gags and shudders. Otherwise, this cheap Italian white is a full, rich pleasure: the lush, deep bite that bears away the juice-sodden flesh of a melon in mid-summer—a melon that has, you quickly find out, slowly been soaking up vodka for the past few days.
3.49 3.5 @Kaufland
Fermented dandelions and other weeds as flavours mark this wine as being entirely in a league of its own. Pine resin, added to give Kourtaki the distinctive taste that very few who’ve tried it could possibly forget, makes it God-awful, at least in cheap form. Like a Greek mountain shepherd’s curative herb brew for an ailing member of his flock, it tastes rough going down and, for humans at least, is certainly no more remedial. It’s a half a glass each and the rest down the drain.
2.49 1 @Kaufland
« Older Entries |