I'm drinking some drinkable boxed wine right now and stumbled upon this article about how silly wine connoisseurs really are. It included this little tidbit:
To collect his own tasting data, Brochet played a couple pretty dirty tricks on his volunteers. In one tasting, he served a white wine and elicited all the usual descriptions: "fresh, dry, honeyed, lively." Later he served the same wine dyed red: Out came the red terms: "intense, spicy, supple, deep." In another test, he submitted a mid-range Bordeaux in two different bottles, one labeled as a cheap table wine, the other bearing a grand cru etiquette: Guess which one was "woody, complex, and round" and which was "short, light, and faulty"?
Bitches. But thus said, I really would prefer some of that dyed white about now. The white I'm now drinking was the remainder of the glass that Mrs. Biobrain left before she went to bed and I can assure you that it was not meant to be drunk at room temperture. Damn my hatred of wasting stuff!