Another fun review from my brother-in-law. With school back in session, I wouldn't be surprised if we received more guest reviews from him. Something tells me that teaching junior high school kids for a living encourages Tom to head straight for the Wine & Beer aisle.
Enjoy!
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Sometimes, my son asks some brilliant questions. “The name of this wine is Blue Fish,” he asked as we strolled down the wine aisle at Bloom. “Does that mean it tastes like fish?” What can I say? He’s a perceptive kid. He asked the very burning question that inspired me to try this particular wine. Does it, in fact, suck as bad as it’s name? Or does it, on the other hand, deliver a taste worthy of the strikingly attractive deep blue bottle with the Caribbean ocean hued label trimmed in shiny imitation gold leaf?
It is, in fact, a bottle that is hard to miss – both eye catching and attractive despite the use of the trendy blue bottles that everyone seems to be using these days in order to set themselves apart from all of the other wineries out there, about half of whom are using those same blue bottles.
But this bottle does catch my eye.
Pretty!
Then I notice the name. Blue Fish.
Yuk.
At that moment, my son poses his question, and I begin to wonder what inspired that name. I mean, I’m sure it tastes good with fish, but most wines aren’t named for the foods you eat them with, they’re named for trees and fruits and flowers and places and people and animals and inanimate objects. I might buy a wine named for a type of fish, but I don’t want a wine that makes me think of the flavor of fish, because a fish-flavored wine would be gross. And if that fish is blue, that’s even grosser (or is it more gross?).
Then I noticed that it has a convenient screw-top bottle. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Convenience is a good thing, but wine is supposed to have a cork, isn’t it? Aren’t the only wines with screw tops the kind that the drinker usually consumes straight from the bottle without removing it from the paper bag?
But I bought it anyway. Did I mention the bottle is really pretty? It is. Pretty enough to make me want to try the wine and write about the experience.
And guess what, the wine is tasty. I don’t think it’s what the typical vinophile would call “good,” but it’s definitely unique. It talks about green apples and pears on the label (not fish, thankfully – in fact no explanation is given for the name at all), and green apples are exactly what I tasted. Tart green granny smith apples, peel and all. They tasted fresh and sour and, actually, pretty strong, and though it wasn’t the sort of thing I’m used to, I really enjoyed drinking it with my burgers and potato salad.
Which I think means that sometimes you can judge a book by its cover. This is a unique wine in a unique package with the right kind of top (much easier to drink a glass and save the rest) and a name that, on second thought, truly doesn’t “suck.” It’s unconventional, like the wine, and it not only got my attention, but prompted me to brace myself for something a little different from what I’m used to.
Thank God it didn’t taste like fish.
Bloom, $8.49
