Growing up in the early 2000s-2010s meant the rite of passage into alcohol inevitably involved terrible choices, from alcopops (RIP) to grim beers (Coors) and nasty wine. Mostly white, rarely red, while rosé that both looked and tasted like Ribena was a world away from the delicate pale provencal style we’re so au fait with now.
Then as now, the cheaper the better. Location, grape variety, acidity levels – it all meant absolutely nothing. Hell, taste didn’t matter either. Slurp it fast enough and you’d barely notice a slight whiff of paintstripper on the nose or a lingering hint of vinegar on the palate. It was just your (well below) average plonk. The number one important factor was price – swiftly followed by ABV, of course. The rough budget for a bottle was the mighty sum of £3-4. A tenner was a good night out. Remember those days?
