As I have written about this before, you may remember that I am something of a Diva when it comes to wine. I’m accustomed to having someone else open, pour, and serve it to me. In exchange, I do things like wash his underwear and cook most meals.
Dearly Beloved being the DWS–Designated Wine Steward– around here, I have never had reason to hone my corkscrew skills. In fact, I don’t have any.
Here, again, is Exhibit A:
After that post (Whine Opener), you kindly offered suggestions as to what I might do when left to my own devices.
I bought a better corkscrew as you suggested, but to be honest, I have been buying screw top wines for those Husband in Absentia wine times. There have been no serious injuries, except for a couple of foil cuts.
Last week I bought a new wine, thinking it had a screw-top. When I peeled away the foil, there was no screw top. There was no corkscrew. There was only this:
Manufacturers probably have good reasons for changing their packaging. Toddlers haven’t always been able to flatten soft drink cans. Machetes haven’t always been required to cut our way to a AA battery. Jar lids used to tighten enough that juice didn’t run to the bottom of the fridge if someone knocked the pickle jar over.
Now I’m willing to change with the times… go with the flow… but this was a new low.
A tiddlywink top.
If I remembered the name of the wine, I’d tell you. In all capital letters.
Perhaps I’ll look into another of your suggestions: boxed wines. Right now, this bottle suits my mood: