Boxed Wine Gets Legitimate: Tequila Royalty, Burgundy in a Box & Caymus Zinfandel
We were on our way out of town for the weekend when Mr. Wine & Drama announced that he needed cigars.
So naturally, at approximately 10 a.m. on a Saturday morning, we pulled into our favorite local liquor store.
Before anybody starts:
Yes.
We were walking into a liquor store at 10 in the morning.
It was Saturday. What’s your problem?
We live in a suburb about 45 minutes outside Nashville, and this particular store has become one of our regular haunts.
We know some of the other regulars. Mr. Wine & Drama wanders around making friends while I find bottles I absolutely did not intend to buy.
It’s a system.
But this Saturday was different.
Because when we walked in, there was a tequila tasting happening.
I Walked Into a Liquor Store and Met Tequila Royalty
Our guy B at the shop told me the woman pouring tequila was one of the owners of a new tequila brand and had come all the way from Jalisco, Mexico.
Naturally, my first question was:
“Why are you HERE?”
Again, Nashville is 45 minutes away. I expected her to be in a posh Nashville store. Not here.
Her distributor had told her that our little suburban liquor store was one of their top-selling stores in the area.
And I felt a completely ridiculous twinge of pride.
Because yes.
We are.
Mr. Wine & Drama and I are there every week doing our part.
Then we started talking.
And I discovered she was Don Julio’s granddaughter.
As in…
Don Julio. Tequila.
I was completely gobsmacked.
She is one of the owners behind Leyenda 1925, a tequila brand created in honor of her grandfather.
I tasted the tequilas.
They were fantastic.
And because apparently I cannot simply taste something and continue on with my day like a normal person, I bought the reposado.
She signed the bottle for me.
That bottle is now Precious Cargo.

Boxed Wine Gets Legitimate
Meanwhile, Mr. Wine & Drama had wandered off and was talking with a husband and wife we know from other wine tastings.
I adore them.
And they were tasting…
boxed wine.
Now listen.
Boxed wine has spent decades being treated like the polyester pantsuit of the wine world.
Cheap.
Slightly embarrassing.
Something your aunt brought to a cookout in 1987.
But I am here to tell you:
Boxed wine is getting legitimate.
There were three wines at the tasting.
And my absolute favorite was From the Tank Vin Rouge.

It’s a French red blend of Grenache, Syrah, Carignan and Mourvèdre, and it was deliciously, ridiculously juicy.
Ripe fruit. Generous. Easy drinking.
Nothing heavy. Nothing fussy.
Exactly the kind of wine I’d put out with pizza, burgers, something off the grill or a giant cheese board and let everybody help themselves.
Honestly?
If you poured this into a bottle and didn’t tell people it came out of a box, I suspect quite a few wine snobs would suddenly lose their ability to identify packaging through taste alone.
Then we tried Alileo Syrah, a 100% Syrah from Sicily.

Then we tried Alileo Syrah, a 100% Syrah from Sicily.
Yes.
Sicilian Syrah in a box.
Also fruity, easygoing and very drinkable.

Then there was Quadrum Red Blend, a Spanish Grenache (20%) & Tempranillo (80%) blend boxed wine.
Three different wines.
Three different styles.
All in boxes.
And none of them required an apology.
Our friends told us they regularly drink boxed wine during the week.
They are serious wine people. I mean he has a wine fridge in his bonus room that holds 60 bottles of really good wine.
And you know what?
I’m not mad at it.
A three-liter box is the equivalent of four bottles of wine.
If you want a glass with dinner without opening a whole bottle every night, suddenly the entire concept starts making an awful lot of sense.
A boxed wine usually lasts around 30 days.
And if the wine inside is good…
Why exactly are we clutching our pearls over the container?
Good wine is good wine.
I refuse to become emotionally attached to the packaging.

And Then the Cheesemonger Told Me About White Burgundy in a Box
Here’s where the boxed-wine story gets even better.
A few days later, we stopped at an amazing cheese shop.
I made friends with the cheesemonger, naturally, because apparently this was my weekend for meeting women who could dramatically improve the contents of my refrigerator.
And while we were talking wine and cheese, she recommended something I had never encountered before:

Hérisson Bourgogne Blanc.
White Burgundy. With a hedgehog on the label.
In a box.
100% Chardonnay from the Mâconnais, Burgundy, France. Made a clean mineral style, lemon, herbs, no butter bombs.
Now we have my attention.
I haven’t tasted this one yet, so I’m not going to sit here and review a wine I haven’t actually put in my mouth. We have standards around here.
Loose standards perhaps, but standards.
But after tasting three genuinely good boxed wines the day before?
I am absolutely willing to investigate.
Because apparently Burgundy has now entered the boxed-wine chat.
And I support this development.
Then I Found Caymus Zinfandel
At this point, Mr. Wine & Drama had his cigars.
I had my tequila.
We had tasted three boxed wines.
A reasonable person would have considered the shopping excursion complete.
Unfortunately, I then saw:
Caymus Zinfandel.
Into the cart it went.
Caymus is obviously best known for Cabernet Sauvignon, so when I saw the Zinfandel, naturally I needed to know what was happening.
When I opened it later, my first reaction was:
Boy, she comes out a little hot.
Give her a minute.
Then you start getting boysenberry, blackberry, a little dark chocolate and all that lovely ripe fruit.
It’s medium-bodied, fruity and very nice drinking.
But here’s what I really appreciated:
It wasn’t a giant fruit bomb.
Some versions of Caymus Cabernet Sauvignon have gotten a little too far into that territory for me lately, which makes me sad.
But I love Caymus.
And I don’t care what anybody says.
There.
I said it.
So Much for Just Buying Cigars
We went into the liquor store at 10 a.m. for cigars.
We left having met Don Julio’s granddaughter, bought a signed bottle of tequila, discovered three boxed wines that were actually worth drinking and brought home a Caymus Zinfandel.
Then the next day, a cheesemonger informed me that white Burgundy now comes in a box.
A perfectly normal weekend.
And honestly, this is pretty much exactly what I want Wine & Drama to be.
Interesting bottles.
Interesting people.
Stories you didn’t expect.
And absolutely no requirement that we take any of it too seriously.
What I’m Drinking To This Week: Drama After Dark
Speaking of things I’ve been meaning to do for far too long…
I have finally started building out the Wine & Drama YouTube channel.
The channel has technically existed for years.
Have I done much with it?
No.
We’ve all made mistakes.
I’ve been so focused on Facebook that YouTube has basically been sitting in the corner wearing cobwebs.
So I finally decided to stop talking about it and start making things.
My first new Wine & Drama Radio release is Drama After Dark.
Dark piano, cinematic strings and moody atmospheric music for reading, writing, late-night evenings, drinking wine or staring dramatically out a window while thinking about people who have wronged you.
If you listen, come over to YouTube and leave me a comment telling me what you’re drinking.
And subscribe while you’re there, because I have plenty more coming, including supper club jazz, cozy evenings and more Wine & Drama Radio sessions.
And next week, I’m launching the first Wicked & Delicious: Stories to Drink To, all about Elizabeth Taylor and her gloriously wild life.
I’ll let you know the minute it’s live.
Cheers,
Alexandra