Bring water, bring wine, boy! Bring flowering garlands to me! Yes, bring them, so that I may try a bout with love.
Anacreon c. 570 – c. 480 B.C.
The nectar of the Gods. Alas, the purse and wallet have taken a battering. Let us try in earnest to find a solution, to aid us in godly drunken perfection- RUBY WINES, quite simply a metropolis of love and mirth. Take the post code, tell no one, visit. It shall be your spiritual home: TW20 0QY
As you enter, meander through the nectar of lesser mortals and find the gargantuan bargain bucket. Villa Radiosa, Cabernet. At £3.99 a bottle, this wine is really surprisingly pleasant. Make no mistake, it is a simple wine. It doesn’t seek to lead you up the garden path, seduce you, flirt with you and tantalize you. Villa Radiosa quite simply bumps into you, looks you up and down and says: ”fancy a rut?” And, quite happily, it it hammers home the proverbial plough. But really, it’s quite a pleasant rut. So, chug and slurp away. I’d happily drink this at room temperature or even when the bottles frozen up a bit (due to the sodding weather).
Now for its qualities: the nose is pretty bitey, not giving away too much (mainly because there isn’t a lot there, kind of like stupid people), but still a glaring sturdiness and almost coarseness in it’s texture. Like a bundle of brambles in your mouth, but in liquid form. Hopefully that’s tangible in some way. But don’t for Christ’s sake eat a load of brambles and pass it off as wine. I tried. They laughed. I digress. On drinking, this coarseness is juxtaposed with a smooth vibrancy in its character. The fruit is clearly ripe and punchy which gives the taste a strange yet not discomforting acidity to it. Hints of juicy blackcurrant engage most of your palate and leave you not … enlightened, but warm and giddy. See it for what it is and enjoy it. Signing off now. Woof.