From the Department of Silly Names

What Halloween would be complete without alcoholic beverages with scary names? Not talking about the bloody brain clot shooter here, even though that one does hold a soft place in my heart. Oo. Sorry. Rather, I refer to those wines that lurk on shelves and dwell in the dark corners of wine lists and that by their very presence strike fear into the hearts of serious wine drinkers. It’s virtually impossible to take some of these products seriously, where seriousness equates willingness to consume after spending real money purchasing said item.

Some I can’t take seriously because the imagery evoked is, well, weird. Vampire Red is certainly among the leaders here. Red wine, red blood. Wine that bites, undead creature of the night that bites... Does it have a bouquet of withered flowers and unconsecrated earth?

Then there’s the cat. Opaque black bottle shaped like an elegantly elongated feline in repose. Who knows what’s in it? Totally beside the point. We all know black cats bring bad luck, and in this case the misfortune manifests itself in the form of a wicked hangover if the wine is actually consumed.

Not all wines of this genre are this perilous, though. Some have what may seem like gimmicky names, but they really do have a neat backstory. And the wines themselves are of top quality. And although the Aussies are very well-represented here (think, among others, R Wine’s “Pure Evil”), Owen Roe’s “Sinister Hand” is my top pick in that category. The label shows a black and white woodcutting-like picture of a severed hand in an armored glove, accented with blood-red drops. It’s truly sinister! But the story behind the name is this: To honor his Irish roots, winemaker David O’Reilly dedicated the wine to an ancestor who was in a race with another boat to be the first group to touch land and therefore claim that area. He cut his own hand off and threw it ashore so as to win the territory for his clan. Now, that is truly legendary. The wine itself is a Rhone-style blend, with concentrated aromas, a rich mouthfeel and nary a hint of rotting flesh.

We’ll never escape silly names, even if we hide under the bed and we don't answer the phone. I suppose there’s a place for such diabolical marketing techniques if, at the end of the night, it encourages people to throw caution to the wind and conduct their own experiments. As always, I personally will celebrate Halloween with a Dead Guy... Ale.

-Thomas