The fruit bomb

We had a drop-in party; seemed like most everyone who came brought along a bottle of wine. And one good friend’s contribution was a Rombauer red.

Now this is a crowd with wine standards probably much higher than mine; there are two liquor distributors in my neighborhood. So it was really fascinating to gradually notice, as people uncorked various Chardonnays and Merlots and so on, that everyone was actually keeping a jealous eye on the unopened Rombauer sitting on the kitchen counter. “Oh, that!” said one of the distributors when he saw it. “That right there is a fruit bomb.”

So by the time I went to open it, there was – literally – a line of people queueing up with glasses for a taste of this wine. Felt like we should have held an auction on the spot.

It indeed a fruit bomb. Apparently that term is typically intended as an insult, but in reds (Pinot Noir particularly) I gravitate toward more fruity, floral wines than some people prefer.

At any rate, there weren’t any Merlots or Sauvignon Blancs that drew a waiting line that night.


2 thoughts on “The fruit bomb

  1. I am reminded of a social gathering I attended many years ago. I was surrounded by a lot of tweed coats, bow ties, and advanced degrees. There was also wine, smoked salmon, pate, caviar, exotic dips, fancy sausages and imported cheeses. To this lovely spread I had contributed (as a totally childish prank) a plate of sandwiches: Spam and Velveeta on Wonder Bread, crusts trimmed off, quartered diagonally, and dressed with French’s classic bright yellow mustard. They picked the platter clean.

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