I can never correctly spell Beaujolais Nouveau. From here on out I will refer to this wine as BJ Newvo and I encourage you to do likewise.
I know it’s a bit late to be blogging about the BJ newvo, but this is my blog so I can blog about whatever I want. And right now I want to blog about this singular question: Why is it that to endlessly pontificate about BJ Newvo has become the benchmark for whether or not you are a too-cool-for-school-wine-know-it-all-hipster?
OK, OK, the French tradition of rushing out to buy the BJ Newvo is a bit over the top, but then again---so are the French. Frogs have a flair for the dramatic. Can we please just leave it at that? Everyone knows that Georges Duboeuf is pimping us jail-bate wine. Stating this fact repeatedly is like standing up in a crowded room full of cartographers and proudly proclaiming: “I have discovered that the earth is round!”
Do these people actually think they are saying something that other people haven’t been saying for at least the last 50 years? Someone in the United Nations general assembly should draft a resolution that declares BJ Newvo bashing a form of torture or otherwise cruel or inhuman treatment because I don’t know how much more I can take.
Footnote #1: You know you’ve been “French-ified” when you find yourself getting into by-proxy arguments over Beaujolais Nouveau.
Footnote #2: Note to the wine producer who makes the wine pictured below, courtesy of my local Match supermarché. BJ Newvo already gets a bad enough rap. The naming of your particular brand does not help matters. Thanks for nothin'.