by Andrew H Brown

Created on: December 30, 2010

Strange as it may sound, you can't drink beer all the time... your bladder would explode for one thing, and for another, your brain would becomes so fuddled and muddled that you wouldn't be abl to hold a cohe..sensabl...um...

Thank the lord for el vino collapso.

I like a glass or two of wine occasionally. Especially when the glass is one of those muckle big jobs that you can squeeze a full bottle into, and the occasion being any month with an R in it...or a vowel.

But I'm no connoisseur.*

Because I've travelled in Italy quite a bit in recent years, I've developed a taste for Italian wines and more specifically, whites from the Veneto.

But there's no need to track down a cheap flight to Marco Polo  to sample the delights of that region, just pop along to any supermarket and you'll find plentiful supplies of the stuff. Mind you, I'd sooner sit in the sun in Sirmione sipping a Soave...suavely, but instead I bought a bottle of Collezione Italiana Soave in Aldi for the not unreasonable price of £3.29. (* told you)

Apparently, the grape varieties used in making this wine are a blend of Garganega, Trebbiano di Soave, Pinot Bianco and Chardonnay varieties all harvested in the vineyards of the Veneto. Well I wouldn't know about that, I can hardly tell the difference between a grape and a bald gooseberry.

Aldi describe it thusly:
"Serve chilled, but not too cold, to enjoy the subtle aromas and flavours of pears, pink grapefruit and almond paste."

Let's uncork this baby then. Well when I say uncork, a more accurate description would to unscrew the cap. No matter, I can hardly master a bottle opener never mind a corkscrew. At least it's not in a box.

This wine pours a slightly lemony yellow colour and clear as a frosty morning in January. There's a very gentle effervescence, although it's certainly not a sparkling wine, which dissipates almost immediately leaving a generous portion in the glass.

A gentle swirl, and in goes the hooter for a deep and meaningful sniff (cue sound effects). The aroma is fruity and a little bit nutty with hints of peach and pear and, unexpectedly, cardboard. Hmm. It doesn't smell unpleasant, which is a bonus.

As for the taste, well I'm not going to go in for all that swirling it around the mouth  and spitting it out malarkey (what a waste) unless, that is, it's absolutely bowff. It's not...but it IS close. It's clean, crisp and sharp with lots of soft fruity flavour - overwhelmingly pears, and up front is quite pleasant. This is very short lived though and you're soon confronted with a dryness of Saharan proportions. I kid you not. I quite like a dry wine but this is screw-yer-face-up, sook-a-lemon, mouth-puckeringly dry. Jeezo

At 11.5% abv this wine holds out plenty of promise but slaps you down with a tongue-rasping dryness that somewhat spoils the whole experience. It smells nice enough, it looks good and the initial flavour is pleasantly fruity. But oh dear, it's drier than the following joke:

My brother`s been really ill in hospital for weeks after the fire at his house. He was doing well until they covered his burns in grease.
Now he`s going downhill fast.

I can't really recommend this wine. Not unless uber-dryness is your thing, that is. It's cheap at £3.29, but nip along to Asda and get three bottles of Miramari for a tenner - that's cheap AND tasty.

Would I drink this again? - only if I was hyper-hydrated.

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