Oy. Aromas of ripe blackberry, meat, and mint highlights are simple but pleasant. But the palate? It feels plush at first but quickly turns hard as an anvil, thin, and sour—and it goes downhill from there, the finish a crescendo of bitter, a diorama of ruin.
This is a travesty, maybe the worst wine I’ve tasted all year.
I pulled up some metal with an appropriate title, the Wait’s Killing Joke, which fleshed out the midpalate a bit but nothing redeems this wine.
Morse Code is an entry-level brand of Henry’s Drive. I can’t think of anything more likely to drive someone to drink beer. What does it say about Bevmo that it carries this crap?