Whilst you fuckers are losing your shit over NZ Bird of the Year, the real bird of the year was here all along, tucked nimbly in the aisles of your common supermarket. Fat Bird Sauvignon Blanc is a weapon, an icon, a twinkle in your father’s eye.
Do you have commitment issues? Are you a sweaty, gross human being that feels terrified at the thought of intimacy with another sweaty, gross human being? Well, Fat Bird says “I love you” without words. It shows your partner that hey, they might not be better than your ex-girlfriend but they’re better than Clearskin. Let’s face it, we’re all better than Clearskin. Apart from those people who give me filthy looks in lectures for going on Facebook. Yeah, go fuck yourselves.
With a crisp, comforting note of citrus and whatever the fuck else goes in white wine, Fat Bird is drinkable. That’s about it, but fuck, is that a hard ask these days. I was beginning to think that vineyards were mixing bleach with grapes (if so, up the bleach dosage please: I have a 40% assignment due this week).
We can all relate to the idea of Fat Bird; as that annoying girl on your Facebook newsfeed would say: “Honestly, same”. A bird – that’s fat? Everyone’s put on winter weight, it’s okay babe. The gentle curves and caresses of that supple bird body calls to me, begging me to bury my face in its feathery chest. Fat bird, I want your folds, I want your stretch marks, I want your plump booty. I want you, I want all of you. Screw using a condom, I want to feel you inside me.
Taste Rating: 9/11. Never forget.
Froth Level: A non-toxic, healthy relationship where you both grow as individuals and better each other.
Pairs well with: Making love with the lights on, reassuring your partner that their body is beautiful, wholesome memes.
Tasting notes: The comforting, tingling smell of used underwear. You know you secretly love it.