Avoid at all costs: testing a 2.3 rated disaster

Oh God, hold on a second. I already have a history with this brand. Let's say trauma. An Australian subscriber literally apologized on behalf of the whole country and yet here I am again. Have you ever opened a Vivino, seen a wine rated 3.2 or even 2.8 and thought who drinks this and is it really that bad? The kind of bad where you physically can Hi, I'm Anja Garibaldi, sommelier, wine educator and diploma WSTT graduate. Welcome back to my channel where we talk about wine clearly, confidently and without the usual snobbery. Today I'm going the heavy lifting for you. I'm tasting several of the lowest rated wines on Vivino and if I survive, at the end I'll honestly tell you which one I could theoretically drink again. If you want to understand wine beyond pretty labels and inflated ratings, make sure you hit like and subscribe. Let's start with the most dramatic bottle of it all, Bel Air Blue Champagne, rating 2.8. I'm looking at something that pretends to be champagne. The font, the shape, the luxury aesthetic, everything screams high-end except it has nothing to do with champagne. It's pure marketing, theater and a desperate desire to look luxurious. It's important to understand this right away. On the back label, it actually says aromatized wine product cocktail, which means it's not even proper sparkling wine. In fact, it's barely wine at all. Here's how drinks like this are normally made. It starts with extremely cheap industrial-based wine, not crafted, not artisanal, just bulk alcohol. Then they add artificial flavor. At this point, it's no longer really wine. Then color. At the moment you do that, the product instantly disquiets from any classic wine category. And if the flavor still isn't fun enough, sweeteners are added. And finally, they inject CO2, artificially carbonated, like Coca-Cola, not naturally fermented like sparkling wine. First, the color. Oh my god. The liquid is bright blue, nearly neon. It feels like something from a car showroom, not a winery. And someone calls this luxury. Bubbles are big and chaotic like they're panicking, but don't know why, which makes total sense once you remember this is aromatized wine cocktail, not traditionally made sparkling wine. So on the nose it's confetti candy notes, blue raspberry, sweet citrus, a hint of slightly overripe pineapple. This smells more like a candy aisle at a shopping mall than anything produced by traditional method. No brioche, no minerality, no autolysis, nothing you would expect from a real sparkling wine. By the way, if you've ever opened the bottle and thought this one is faulty or just ugly by design, I made a free wine fault guide you can download below. It shows you how to recognize real faults like cork taint, oxidation, heat damage, production, and also the things that look scary but are completely normal like sediment or little wine crystals. It's the fastest way to know whether to send the bottle back or whether it's simply a questionable winemaking choice. And now the taste. It's sweet, not dessert sweet while elegant. It tastes like someone threw a hatful of jolly ranchers into a soda stream. Very sugary, barely drinkable. The acidity is this, but the drink doesn't collapse completely into a sticky lemonade. Alcohol is barely there. The star of the show is sugar. Short, sticky finish with a candy note that clings in your tongue and refuses to leave. If you care about structure, texture, fineness, absolutely not. But if you need something bright, sweet, and photogenic for a fun no-rules party, sure, a sparkling wine, the only thing it has in common with champagne is the presence of bubbles. That's all. Luc Belair Blue is fun like neon sneakers that light up in the dark. Oh god, let's move on quickly. I need to erase the candy flavor from my memory. 19 Cribes Snoop Dogg, rating 3.7. Look who's on the bottle. This is the kind of wine held up not just by taste but by personality. Here, a face on the bottle works louder than the region or the grape. Let's look at it. Deep dark color, heavy dramatic legs, very bold. On the nose. Blackberry jam, vanilla extract, cinnamon, baking spices, big full oak energy. Touch of chocolate, more dessert bar than vineyard. But it's not trying to be Santo. And honestly, that's exactly its charm. On the palate, definitely much better than the previous one. Rich, full, jammy. Blackberry preserves, plum compote, sweet spice, cacao dust, moderate acidity, soft relaxed tannins, a structure shaped like a recliner chair. Warm alcohol, cozy texture, designed to be pleasant for most of the people. Medium finish, cacao, and a hint of residual sweetness. Within its category, it's bold, commercial, and crowd-friendly. Not for analyzing nuance, more for simply enjoying. And here's my favorite part, said with love. Honestly, Snoop has more stamina and complexity than this wine, which is impressive considering his lifelong commitment to, let's say, horrible wellness. And if you enjoy this kind of honest tasting energy, hit like and subscribe. It really does help. So now, Carlo Rossi, Burgundy, rating 3.2. Hold on a second. Now, to the wine with an identity crisis, printed right on the label. Now, to a wine with an identity crisis, printed right on the label. Name, Italian, Carlo Rossi. Word, Burgundy. French, origin, California. Packaging, it's a jack. A nightmare already. Now, let's pour it out of the jack. Yes, a jack into a glass. So, on the nose. Very simple. Berry syrup, artificial cherry, some maybe plum. Clearly no burgundy elegance, no varietal character, no complexity. All right, the taste. A sweet berry mix, blackberry liqueur, oh god, cream, candy, plum juice, some artificial cherry note. Okay. Low acidity, almost no tannin, smooth, suspiciously uniform texture, made to offend no one, which ironically offends me personally. Short, sweet finish, the budget flight of wine ending, gone instantly. If you approach this as a serious wine, disappointment guaranteed. If you treat it as a simple sweet drink, fewer questions. From Burgundy, it only has the word on the label. Yellowtail Shiraz, rating 3.5. I already have a history with this brand, let's say. Trauma, the Chardonnay episode, some of you still send condolences about that one. An Australian subscriber literally apologized on behalf of the whole country. And yet, here I am again, bravely returning for the Shiraz. So, in the glass, it's very dark, anti-glossy, the kind of wine that wants to look expensive. Oh god, yellowtail doesn't do subtle. So, on the nose, oh god, a waste of blackberry jam, black cherry, vanilla and sweet baking spices. It's loud, sweet, zero elegance, it's like a hug that you did not consent to. On the palate, so sweet. Glossy fruit, chocolate whisper, spiced from a packet label Shiraz vibe, medium soft acidity, smoke-diffused tannin, made to be easy drinking if you like sweet full-bodied reds. Finishes medium, fruity and sticky, like melted dairy ice cream or something. Shiraz is exactly what you expect from yellowtail. Predictable, commercial, no nuance. If you like yellowtail, you'll like this. If you expect layers and complexity, you'll feel like you're drinking a present flavor profile. It's just not serious wine. So, after a blue sparkling, the red bland California, the burgundy in the jar and the famous yellowtail Shiraz, which of these could I theoretically drink if I have absolutely no choice or if I had a gun pointed to my head? The honest answer? Probably 19 crimes by Snoop Dogg. Not because it's refined or complex, not because it's a masterpiece, but because it doesn't pretend to be something it's not. It knows exactly who it's made for and delivers that experience confidently. Out of the entire parade of questionable decisions, it's the only wine with a clear purpose and personality. If I had to crown a least traumatic option, Snoop takes it. And if you want to avoid buying wines that smell wrong, taste wrong or make you question your life choices, download my free wine pull guide below. It teaches you the 5-6 key faults every wine drinker should know and also what's absolutely normal so you never waste money on a float bottle again. So, if you want a part 2, I can try the most overrated, overhyped, high-rating wines and see if they actually deserve their praise. Tell me in the comments which one of these you would never risk trying and which one you are low-key curious about, even just for chaos. If you want to avoid more disasters like this, hit like and subscribe. And may your next bottle be much, much better than this. Cheers!