Some things from the 1980s, such as pasta salad, and B-52 shots, should never, ever be revived. Nevertheless, I decided I would give my old friend, the five-litre wine box with the plastic bladder inside, another try. Wine boxes became stigmatised as a result of being seen at student parties, secret schoolkids’ drinking sessions in the park, and – probably most damagingly of all, Australian soap operas. Boxed wine originated in Oz, and the product made regular appearances in Neighbours as part of a drinking game called ‘goon pong’ – the plastic bladder is known as a ‘goon sack’.
During that decade, every party I ever threw or attended seemed to involve a five-litre box of Franzia (usually the pink variety, which tasted like the bottom of a yak’s carpet slipper). And no party would end without somebody removing the bladder and squeezing until every last drop had been dispensed. Its bad reputation was well deserved. Mostly, it was mass-produced plonk that was either vinegary, or thin as a supermodel.
In 1981, the Financial Times wine correspondent attended a tasting panel which drank its way through 37 box wines from nine countries. Adjectives inspired by the wines included ‘sulphured’, ‘tired’,’ dirty’ and ‘oxidised’, and at least half failed the fresh test immediately. But that was then. Boxed wine has now had a serious revival and makeover, and leading supermarkets and wine merchants alike now have a full variety on sale.
I consider myself skilled at detecting snobbishness in other people – yet, having failed to spot it in myself, had missed a trick. I had no idea that boxed wine had been quietly growing in popularity for almost a decade, because whenever I saw it on display, I would steadfastly turn my head away, thinking it inferior. The memory of drinking Gallo out of a plastic cup was a pervasive one.
My change of heart only came when I got fed up of throwing away good quality vermouth because it had gone off. I only use a teaspoon in the occasional gin martini, and by the time I get round to making another, it is inevitably beyond redemption. Searching online to find a solution to that problem, lo and behold, I discovered that it now comes in boxes – which keep it fresh for far longer. Curious, I had a look at some of the wines in boxes, tried a couple, and have never looked back.
Stored in the fridge, red or white wine (whether in a 1.5-litre pouch or a massive five-litre box) will keep fresh for up to a month – unlike bottled wine, which starts to deteriorate within a day, once the air gets to it. Those 1980s boxes looked cheap and nasty, and the wine inside certainly lived up to that promise. Nowadays, the packaging tends to be seriously tasteful – as is what’s inside.
Should you happen to drop a box, it won’t break
What used to be known as Château Cardboard and dragged around festivals would now look perfectly respectable on the table. I tried an extremely good French Muscadet recently, which cost just £80 for five litres. Restaurants also rely on boxed wine to keep everything they sell by the glass tasting fresh – such as Vinoteca.
There are environmental benefits too. Not only because there’s less packaging waste, but also because making glass bottles uses masses of carbon. And should you happen to drop a box, it won’t break. One of my favourites is a French red, Cabalie 2024. I also discovered a Garganega Pinot Grigio that is light and fresh. For rosé, try La Dame en Rosé. But the all-round best has to be the 2025 Domaine Félines Jourdan, Picpoul de Pinet, France, three litres for around £40.
What manufacturers save by packaging wine this way benefits the consumer. In most cases, it’s around 50 per cent cheaper to buy a box of a particular wine than the same volume in bottles. It also saves lugging a heavy load back from the shop when friends drop by unexpectedly, or you unexpectedly decide to drink wine instead of tea.
As someone who prides herself on knowing how to throw a decent dinner party, the real test is whether I would feel comfortable plonking a box on the table rather than a bottle or two. I have a friend who perpetuates the stigma by decanting the contents of his wine box into bottles before friends come round. Not me – I’m all out for shameless wine box advocacy.
There is one downside: with a bottle, especially if you’re drinking alone, you can see exactly how much you’ve had. The bottle doesn’t lie. But with boxed wine, you can kid yourself you’ve only had a couple of small ones right up until the moment you have to tip the box upside-down to extract the last drop. But I’m prepared to take the rough with the smooth.
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