I was at the grocery store on Friday and decided to go ahead and grab a bottle of Shiraz while there. The cashier was a young over-zealous man whose life long dream was to help me choose my wine. Unfortunately for him, I do not like to be guided or observed during my selection process. I politely declined his assistance, but he persisted by giving me a run-down on which wines were on sale. Now, you might think, "That's nice - Saturday Shiraz loves a bargain!" - and I do, but the thing is... there are big highlighted sale tags under the sale bottles and my vision is pretty good. I thanked Captain Obvious and notified him that I was looking for a Shiraz and you know what he enthusiastically recommended? Angove - the weird white wine masquerading as a red reviewed in Week #20! Those of you who have studied and memorized my every post will recall that Helpful Husband was lead to this choice by a salesperson - obviously the same dude. Does he get commission tricking people into drinking that strange concoction? Or does he just have bad taste? Either way, I told him I'd tried it and it was "interesting" and he left me alone.
I chose Lindeman's based on a recommendation from a close friend. Then I came home with all intentions of saving it for Saturday. But, you know what happened? The power went out. Then it got dark. So, we watched Bob the Builder on the laptop and the kids went to bed. Did you know the Internet doesn't work when the power is out? Did you also know there are no games on my laptop? So, we played cribbage by candlelight. Then I came to the realization that Reality TV is much more interesting than actual reality, so I poured a glass of wine and read Jerk, California (Big Rothesay Read shout out!) by flashlight. And, in a sign from a higher power to stop drinking, the electricity returned as I finished my first glass.
Lindeman's Bin 50 (Australia, 2010)
Normally I place the wine under a bright light or near a window because the bottles don't photograph well with flash. But, the power was out and the sun had set, so my hands were tied. Plus, it is really hard to take a picture of something that you can't actually SEE.
A word from the wine:
"Bin Series' wines are named after the traditional wine cellar where our finest wines were allocated a unique "bin number" after each vintage to ensure consistent quality. Screwcaps are used to guarantee freshness"
How does a bin number ensure consistent quality? And why are we reading about screw caps on the label? Don't they have anything better to mention? And, yes, this was the ENTIRE label note.
You know, I was pleasantly surprised by this wine. I had my reservations about a wine that claimed a bin number for each "vintage" when the bottle is only a year old. And, not that I don't trust my friend who recommended it (she's my youngest son's godmother after all), but she is usually a white wine drinker and I am always suspicious of people who prefer white to red. But, this wine was really tasty! It was nice and dry with no jarring aftertaste. It's been a few weeks since something ended up on the regular rotation list, and I just met the newest entry.
Helpful Husband Tip: "I like it fine"