ScapeGoat Ink Don't Drink That!: Mulled Wine Edition
Over the holiday's I was looking for some weird booze to drink for the ScapeGoat Ink Don't Drink That! segment when I stumbled across a peculiar-looking bottle of wine at ALDI. I realize that there are several questionable things mentioned in that last statement, but alas it is true that ALDI does in fact have a wine selection, and yes, I was looking at it. One particular wine jumped out at me because the label was brightly colored and it was written in German. I flipped it over, like a seasoned used car salesman, hoping to unveil the particular type of contents in this mysterious bottle. What I discovered was quite the treat.
A few month's ago I stopped over at my parent's house to visit and, at my mom's urging, we had a glass of red wine that had been placed in the refrigerator. Yada, yada, my mom microwaved the wine—read about the entire red wine debacle here—and since then it's become a running joke in my family. Well, the bottle of wine that I picked up was German mulled wine, not to be mistaken with "mold" wine, which is just plain gross. This happened to be the perfect wine for the season because according to the label, mulled wine is typically served warm. I thought it only appropriate to bring my newly purchased bottle over to my parent's house to share with my mom, the wine-microwaver.
During the mulled wine tasting I recorded the on-going comments throughout the drinking session. I was going to compose the content into paragraph form, but at my Dad's suggestion, I've kept all the original notes intact, so what you're about to read is the raw, unedited version.
The main players are AG: alcoholic girlfriend; SG: me; D: my Dad; and, M: my mom.
First impressions
Of course, being the rookie wine snobs that we are we were in such a hurry to taste this delicious, bloody looking wine that we forgot to decant it. In an attempt to expedite the aeration of the wine we three vigorously swirled our glasses to release more flavors. What we got was unpleasant to say the least.
First whiff
AG: It smells like cheap perfume.
M: It smells like a whore died in the alley.
SG: It's like someone farted on a fruit cake.
First sip
AG: It's confusing. It tastes like potpourri. I think I need a shot.
M: Yuck. Roll it around on your tongue, it makes it taste even worse; it's like licking an alley.
SG: It leaves a weird film in my mouth, kind of the way a hooker does, er, would.
After 30-seconds in the microwave
(It was too hot to drink, so we let it sit for a moment, which made it smell worse.)
First whiff
AG: I feel like we're slowly poisoning ourselves.
M: Oh, the smell (shudder)! I shouldn't have put my whole face in it.
SG: It burns my nose holes.
First sip
M: Ow!
AG: That's not good. It's so bad it burns my eyes. It's like bad sangria, only hot.
SG: Yuck. I never thought I'd say this, but the microwaved red wine tasted better.
After one sip the ladies switched over to good wine, which was anything other than mulled wine. I, on the other hand, made the decision to power through and finish what I'd started, or at least the glass that was in front of me. As usual, my decision would prove to be a poor one. On a side note, I truly do think a hooker farts in every bottle of mulled wine before it's sealed and shipped to the masses. By "masses" I mean ALDI customers.
Eventually, my dad arrived home after a long days work to find three assholes in the kitchen stinking the joint up while making a mess with a bottle of mulled wine. It was obvious by the perplexed look on his face that he wanted in. At least that's what I told myself as I poured him a heaping glass of unpleasantness.
Dad's First Impressions
Is that ink or wine? It smells like office supplies.
(Only an accountant would equate hooker juice with office supplies.)
First whiff
D: This doesn't smell like wine. It smells like vomit or stomach acid. It's like someone just had bad wine and barfed.
First sip
D: It's like Welch's grape juice. Hmm, it's an enigma. You could pair that wine with popcorn or liverwurst; probably a nice liverwurst sandwich.
After 24 seconds in microwave
(We learned that 30 seconds was 6 seconds too long)
First whiff
SG: It smells slightly better than the first time.
D: Yeah, but it smells like it's burnt.
First sip
D: It tastes a little tart and flat.
SG: Heating it up didn't help.
After tasting it we decided that maybe the microwave was what was ruining the wine. What was our great idea? We'll warm it up in a pot on the stove—genius.
Wine warmed on the stove
D: Which way should I stir it? Counterclockwise or clockwise? I don't want to destroy the integrity of this fine wine.
SG: I think it's melting the spoon.
Final sips
D: Maybe I've had too much, but it doesn't taste that bad anymore.
SG: Yeah, I'd agree. It's definitely not good, but it's not THAT bad.
A: No. It's bad.
AG: I never want that again. EVER.
Random Quote of the evening
D: Bing Crosby couldn't sing. Bob Hope was the brains behind that operation.
Let's just assume that's the mulled wine talking.
After our tasting, my dad and I tried to enjoy a couple of beers afterward, but it appears that due to an odd film left in our mouths from the wine that our taste buds were destroyed. Not even a couple of robust Magic Hat Howl dark lagers could overpower the tainted taste left in our mouths. Thanks for the nightmares, mulled wine!
A few month's ago I stopped over at my parent's house to visit and, at my mom's urging, we had a glass of red wine that had been placed in the refrigerator. Yada, yada, my mom microwaved the wine—read about the entire red wine debacle here—and since then it's become a running joke in my family. Well, the bottle of wine that I picked up was German mulled wine, not to be mistaken with "mold" wine, which is just plain gross. This happened to be the perfect wine for the season because according to the label, mulled wine is typically served warm. I thought it only appropriate to bring my newly purchased bottle over to my parent's house to share with my mom, the wine-microwaver.
During the mulled wine tasting I recorded the on-going comments throughout the drinking session. I was going to compose the content into paragraph form, but at my Dad's suggestion, I've kept all the original notes intact, so what you're about to read is the raw, unedited version.
Back Label
Christengel Glühwein—mulled wine
Style: mild
Taste: sweet
Notes: Aromas and flavors of red fruit and spice with hints of orange
Food: A natural fit for holiday gatherings, cakes and stollen (German's take on the fruit cake)
Origin: Hell. Just kidding, it's a product of Germany
The main players are AG: alcoholic girlfriend; SG: me; D: my Dad; and, M: my mom.
First impressions
Of course, being the rookie wine snobs that we are we were in such a hurry to taste this delicious, bloody looking wine that we forgot to decant it. In an attempt to expedite the aeration of the wine we three vigorously swirled our glasses to release more flavors. What we got was unpleasant to say the least.
First whiff
AG: It smells like cheap perfume.
M: It smells like a whore died in the alley.
SG: It's like someone farted on a fruit cake.
First sip
AG: It's confusing. It tastes like potpourri. I think I need a shot.
M: Yuck. Roll it around on your tongue, it makes it taste even worse; it's like licking an alley.
SG: It leaves a weird film in my mouth, kind of the way a hooker does, er, would.
After 30-seconds in the microwave
(It was too hot to drink, so we let it sit for a moment, which made it smell worse.)
First whiff
AG: I feel like we're slowly poisoning ourselves.
M: Oh, the smell (shudder)! I shouldn't have put my whole face in it.
SG: It burns my nose holes.
First sip
M: Ow!
AG: That's not good. It's so bad it burns my eyes. It's like bad sangria, only hot.
SG: Yuck. I never thought I'd say this, but the microwaved red wine tasted better.
After one sip the ladies switched over to good wine, which was anything other than mulled wine. I, on the other hand, made the decision to power through and finish what I'd started, or at least the glass that was in front of me. As usual, my decision would prove to be a poor one. On a side note, I truly do think a hooker farts in every bottle of mulled wine before it's sealed and shipped to the masses. By "masses" I mean ALDI customers.
Eventually, my dad arrived home after a long days work to find three assholes in the kitchen stinking the joint up while making a mess with a bottle of mulled wine. It was obvious by the perplexed look on his face that he wanted in. At least that's what I told myself as I poured him a heaping glass of unpleasantness.
Dad's First Impressions
Is that ink or wine? It smells like office supplies.
(Only an accountant would equate hooker juice with office supplies.)
First whiff
D: This doesn't smell like wine. It smells like vomit or stomach acid. It's like someone just had bad wine and barfed.
First sip
D: It's like Welch's grape juice. Hmm, it's an enigma. You could pair that wine with popcorn or liverwurst; probably a nice liverwurst sandwich.
After 24 seconds in microwave
(We learned that 30 seconds was 6 seconds too long)
First whiff
SG: It smells slightly better than the first time.
D: Yeah, but it smells like it's burnt.
First sip
D: It tastes a little tart and flat.
SG: Heating it up didn't help.
After tasting it we decided that maybe the microwave was what was ruining the wine. What was our great idea? We'll warm it up in a pot on the stove—genius.
Wine warmed on the stove
D: Which way should I stir it? Counterclockwise or clockwise? I don't want to destroy the integrity of this fine wine.
SG: I think it's melting the spoon.
Final sips
D: Maybe I've had too much, but it doesn't taste that bad anymore.
SG: Yeah, I'd agree. It's definitely not good, but it's not THAT bad.
A: No. It's bad.
AG: I never want that again. EVER.
Random Quote of the evening
D: Bing Crosby couldn't sing. Bob Hope was the brains behind that operation.
Let's just assume that's the mulled wine talking.
After our tasting, my dad and I tried to enjoy a couple of beers afterward, but it appears that due to an odd film left in our mouths from the wine that our taste buds were destroyed. Not even a couple of robust Magic Hat Howl dark lagers could overpower the tainted taste left in our mouths. Thanks for the nightmares, mulled wine!
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Posted by ScapeGoat Ink at 1/18/2012 10:56 AM 
Categories: ScapeGoat Ink Don't Drink That!
Tags: ALDI German mulled wine red wine mirowaved red wine Christengel Gluhwein Welch's grape juice Magic Hat Howl dark lager Bing Crosby Bob Hope
Categories: ScapeGoat Ink Don't Drink That!
Tags: ALDI German mulled wine red wine mirowaved red wine Christengel Gluhwein Welch's grape juice Magic Hat Howl dark lager Bing Crosby Bob Hope
It makes me long for another taste of that magic in a bottle. NOT!
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Hey, Valentine's Day is coming up soon. Maybe I'll get you two lovebirds a bottle of the old spiced hooker juice to celebrate, what do you think?
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One more crack about the late, great Bing Crosby and you can consider me no longer a fan.
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Link, I understand you're a little heated by the Bing bashing, but I assure you that statement in no way represents the views held by ScapeGoat Ink. Sure, Bing beat his kid's with a bag of oranges (allegedly), but the man could drink. I also heard he was a decent singer too. Anyway, why don't you and I meet up somewhere and grab a couple of drinks (red potion, perhaps?), and we'll put this all behind us. Oh yeah, I play the bongo drums. Maybe you can bring your Ocarina flute and we can have a woodland jam session?
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