I drink wine for fun. I like wine, I enjoy tasting it, I enjoy drinking it and I like talking about it. When an opportunity comes up to experiment on it, it’s a treat for me.
This bottle, which was more of a bottle-ette, a snack sized 125ml plastic tub came off a Delta flight from Atlanta, Georgia to London. Its sibling, which met its end at 36,000 feet tasted fruity when it was a mile high.
Back here at a mere 800 feet we gave it its best shot. The temperature was perfect the glasses were sparkly clean, we poured it and gave it time to breathe, relax and even do a few stretches if it wanted to.
It did not taste the same. What had been fresh berries with a little white pepper became something much sharper, tarter and more acidic.
I know airlines carefully select their wines to taste good on a flight. Now I know they don’t put the same effort into making sure they taste great on Earth. I don’t intend to dry out the air in my home, reduce the pressure or pump 200 peoples’ germs around it either, so I guess I’ll never steal a bottle-ette from a flight again. It’s not the same. I wonder if the pretzels taste any good at sea level?