Saturday, 17 February 2007

"Yes, I'm Getting Flavours Of Burnt Cucumber And Octopus, And Just A Hint Of Tyre Fire…"

We went to a wine tasting this evening. It was very silly.

I never actually worked out quite what we were supposed to do with it, but we were given a big list of descriptions to – I can really only assume – help us report back on each wine (which a representative from each table had to do). It included things like cat's pee, wet cardboard, dry cardboard, petrol, mould and pencil shavings.

Now, I wouldn't have the first idea what most of those smell like – and I certainly have no idea whatsoever what any of them taste like – so, I'm still a little confused about what was going on.

And, ironically, I thought that one of the wines smelt like Harpic and tasted like soap, whilst another one tasted like Germalene – and none of those delights of the senses were on my all-knowing wonderlist of comparisons.

Jilly Goolden, watch out – there's a new kid in town.

Or possibly not.

Wine gives me migraine, anyway.


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